HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN. 
 
Hans Christian Andersen'S 
 correspondence 
 
 WITH THE LATE GRAND-DUKE OF SAXE-WEIMAR, 
 CHARLES DICKENS, ^c„ ^c. 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 FREDERICK CRAWFORD 
 
 ^jth :^oj]^ait$ an4 P^emoli] 
 
 London: DEAN & SON, i6oa Fleet Street, E.G. 
 
PTS-//S' 
 
 CONTENTS, 
 
 Page 
 
 Preface ■ " ' 9 
 
 Andersen's Life ------- ^3 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 Andersen to Beaulieu ----- 272, 299 
 
 Bille, Carl Steen Adolf - - - - 457 
 
 Charles, Philarete ----- 426 
 
 Collin, Edward ----- 419 
 
 Dickens ----- 321, 328, 375 
 
 Dingelstedt ------ 303 
 
 Editorof "New York Tribune" - - 464 
 
 Eisendecker, Frau von - - - - 231 
 
 Frederick, Crown Prince of Denmark 444 
 
 Grand-Duke of Weimar, 175, 183, I93, 209, 213, 
 
 224, 226, 230, 235, 240, 244, 249, 253, 259, 
 
 264, 270, 288, 293, 295, 308, 310, 317, 355, 
 
 362, 373, 381, 384, 387, 391, 394, 397, 4oi, 
 
 409, 411, 414, 430, 453, 467 
 
 Hauch, Henrietta ----- 5^ 
 
 Ingemann - - - - " - 60, 65 
 
 Iversen, Mrs. - - - - * 48 
 
 Jordan, Wm. 202 
 
 ten Kate _.---- 428 
 
 Kaulbach, Frau - - - - - 446 
 
 272812 
 
Viu CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Andersen to King Christian VIII. - - - 165,217 
 
 „ Maximilian II. - - - - 406 
 
 Laesscie, Ludvig 42 
 
 „ Mrs. -Ji 
 
 „ Mrs. Signe - - 8.3, in, 117 
 
 Lenz 159 
 
 Livingstone, Mary - - - 435, 442, 448 
 
 Lorenzen 68 
 
 Mosenthal 313 
 
 Miiller, Ludwig 9ij 99 
 
 Peacock, Gibson 460 
 
 Queen-Dowager Caroline Amelia - - 331 
 
 Rachel (Madame Felix) - - - - 156 
 
 Rantzow-Breitenburg, Count - - - 145 
 
 Voigt, Christian 104 
 
 WulfF, Miss Henrietta 135, 157, 280, 338, 349, 
 
 367 
 
 Castelli to Andersen - - - - - - 149 
 
 Collin, Edward, to Andersen 275 
 
 Dickens, Charles „ ... 324, 364, 471 
 
 King Maximilian 11. „ 405 
 
 Livingstone, Mary „ - - 432, 433, 438, 450 
 
 Schumann, Robert „ - - - - 151, 163 
 
 Tegn^r, Bishop „ 88 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Hans Christian Andersen had the habit 
 of carefully preserving everything which he 
 considered of the slightest value or signifi- 
 cance. Among his papers were found im- 
 portant and unimportant letters, trivial notes, 
 and, in particular, every written and printed 
 line that touched upon his life's career. In 
 his will he expressed a desire that all letters 
 of any interest among his voluminous cor- 
 respondence should be published. The 
 Danish edition of these letters consists of 
 three somewhat bulky volumes, and con- 
 tains upwards of 800 letters, from which we 
 have made a selection such as, it is hoped, 
 will be of some interest to lovers of Andersen 
 in this country. 
 
 It has fallen to the lot of few authors to 
 have enjoyed so intimate an acquaintance 
 
10 PREFACE. 
 
 with celebrities at home and abroad as did 
 Andersen. His letters to his friends have a 
 genuine ring about them, and most of them 
 appear to have been written without any 
 thought of their being published. Their 
 great charm lies in their naturalness and 
 simplicity. 
 
 Free from affectation and constraint, the 
 writer unburdens his heart to those he loves 
 with the frankness of a little child. He had 
 a longing for sympathy, and is throughout 
 keenly sensitive of the smallest mark of 
 esteem or regard, whether coming from the 
 most exalted of his correspondents or from 
 his humblest friend or admirer, 
 
 Andersen was never married. The 
 romance of his life is touchingly narrated in 
 the following pages. Had he been bound 
 by the ties of home, it is probable that he 
 would not have experienced that constant 
 desire for change of scene to which he so 
 often alludes in his letters. Travelling seems 
 to have been the greatest pleasure of his life. 
 His frequent journeys were each to him as a 
 
PREFACE. 1 1 
 
 new lease of life and energy. At all times a 
 keen observer of men and things, he was 
 quick to seize upon the salient features of 
 those with whom he came into contact, and 
 none more ready than he to appreciate their 
 good points. He had the eye of an artist 
 for all that was grand or beautiful in nature, 
 and in his intercourse with his friends there 
 are numerous graphic descriptions of scenery 
 which had fascinated him, either by its 
 wonders or by its beauty. Here he is never 
 tedious, he never exaggerates, but is always 
 simple and sincere. These characteristics 
 remained unchanged in him, and we find him 
 late in life as enthusiastic in his love of 
 nature and mankind as at the outset of his 
 career. The ofood and the beautiful in life 
 ever appealed to his pure, simple soul, and 
 were reproduced in his writings with a child- 
 like impulsiveness and sincerity. 
 
 A German author, speaking of Andersen, 
 says, " First of all one must learn to regard 
 him as a child, notwithstanding his height, 
 then to pardon him for being one, and finally, 
 
12 PREFACE. 
 
 one learns to love him because he was a 
 child ; childish thoughts were habitual to 
 him, and he never laid them down while life 
 lasted. In this lay his greatness. It is just 
 on this account that the expression of his 
 pure mind, his noble thoughts, and his warm 
 heart appeals to every sympathetic soul." 
 
 A perusal of the accompanying life and 
 letters cannot fail to reveal the amiable and 
 affectionate character of Andersen's nature, 
 and to strengthen our esteem for a writer 
 who has contributed so much to the hap- 
 piness of childhood. His correspondence 
 throughout is devoid of all cynicism, invec- 
 tive, and the slightest trace of ill-feeling. We 
 are here in presence of a mind remarkable 
 for its gentleness and purity, and admirably 
 adapted to reflect all that is good and true in 
 this world. 
 
 The publishers are indebted to Miss 
 Georgina Hogarth for her kind permission 
 to use those letters of the late Charles 
 Dickens which are included in this volume. 
 
 F. C. 
 
Hans Christian Andersen s Life: 
 
 AS RELATED BY HIMSELF. 
 
 In a charming autobiography, written in his 
 own inimitable style, with that strange 
 mixture of shrewdness and simplicity that 
 always characterised him, Hans Christian 
 Andersen has left on record his experiences 
 from his poverty-stricken childhood to his 
 honoured old age. Though at the outset his 
 career was the humblest of the humble — not 
 in the '* Uriah Heep" sense of humility — yet 
 he lived to see his native town illuminated 
 in his honour, and to enjoy the personal 
 regard and friendship of his king. It is from 
 his autobiography that the following outline 
 of his extraordinary and instructive career 
 has been taken. 
 
 The spirit pervading his book is one of 
 pious gratitude, not unmixed with wonder. 
 
14 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S LIFE: 
 
 at the amount of success he has achieved, 
 and the faithfulness with which his steps 
 have been guided through the thorny paths 
 of a difficult world. '* My life," he says, '' is 
 a pretty tale, equally rich and fortunate. If, 
 when as a boy I went forth alone and poor 
 into the world, a powerful fairy had met me, 
 and had said to me, ' Choose thy career and 
 thy goal, and I will protect thee and lead 
 thee onward, as it must be in this world, in 
 obedience to reason, according as thy mind 
 shall develop itself,' my fate could not have 
 been ordered more happily, sensibly, and 
 prosperously. The story of my life will tell 
 the world what it has told to me, — that there 
 is a loving God, who orders all things for 
 the best." 
 
 And yet the writer of these words of 
 devout thankfulness had gone through trials 
 and afflictions that would have soured and 
 discouraged many an ardent spirit. But the 
 poor, friendless boy, in the darkest days of 
 want and penury, had, like Goldsmith, '^ a 
 knack at hoping ; " and, lonely and forsaken 
 
AS RELATED BY HIMSELF. 1 5 
 
 as he seemed, " his strength was as the 
 strength of ten, because his heart was 
 pure." 
 
 Hans Christian Andersen, one of the 
 truest and most original geniuses the present 
 century has produced, was born the son of a 
 poor shoemaker and his wife, in the little 
 Danish town of Odense, in the island of 
 Funen, on the 2nd of April, 1805. The 
 parents' home was of the smallest, but neat 
 and clean ; and little Hans Christian, an 
 only child, was, according to his own account, 
 considerably spoilt by both his parents, but 
 particularly by his father. The poor shoe- 
 maker was not a happy man. His parents 
 had once been wealthy farmer folk ; but a 
 succession of misfortunes had not only re- 
 duced them to poverty, but deprived the 
 poor ruined farmer of his reason ; whereupon 
 the wife had removed to Odense, and main- 
 tained her poor Insane husband by the work 
 of her hands. The great wish of her son to 
 attend the Latin school had to be given up, 
 and he was apprenticed to a shoemaker ; but 
 
I6 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S LIFE: 
 
 though he laboured faithfully in his calling, 
 he was never reconciled to it, and pined re- 
 gretfully for the things that were not to be. 
 
 Thus it came about that he made a friend 
 and companion of the little son, in whose 
 quiet, imaginative nature he saw a reflection 
 of his own. He took the child out into the 
 fields on Sundays and holidays, made puppet 
 shows and '^ transformation " pictures for 
 him, and initiated him into the delights of 
 the "Arabian Nights." He little thought what 
 seed he was sowing in the mind of the 
 sensitive, imaginative, affectionate child, who 
 thoroughly understood him. Those were 
 the days of the Napoleonic wars, and 
 Denmark, to her sorrow, sided with the 
 mighty Caesar. Andersen the shoemaker, 
 restless and unhappy in his workshop, en- 
 listed as a soldier in the Danish contingent, 
 and marched away, only to return a few 
 months later, on the conclusion of peace, 
 shattered alike in body and mind. A burn- 
 ing fever put an end to his life within a few 
 days, and Hans Christian's widowed mother 
 
AS RELATED BY HIMSELF. 1/ 
 
 had to keep a roof above her head by going 
 out by the day as a laundress. 
 
 " From the time of my father's death," 
 says Andersen, " I was left entirely to my 
 own devices. My mother went out washing 
 for people, and I sat at home with my toy 
 theatre, sewing costumes for the puppets, 
 and reading plays." He got hold of Shake- 
 speare, though ''only in a bad translation" — 
 and wrote his first tragedy — '' in which, of 
 course, all the characters died" — besides 
 various other pieces. His poor mother, 
 though secretly exulting in her son's talent, 
 saw the necessity of his doing something 
 practical to earn money, and Hans was sent 
 to a factory, where a number of boys and 
 men earned a weekly wage by cloth-weaving. 
 He could sing very sweetly, and was made 
 to amuse the assembled toilers with his 
 songs, while another boy had to do his w^ork. 
 But a coarse practical joke played off upon 
 him sent the sensitive lad home in tears to 
 his mother, who promised he should never 
 go to the factory again. The second 
 
I8 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S LIFE: 
 
 marriage of the widow with a man younger 
 than herself, whose relations would have 
 nothing to do with the new wife or her son, 
 did not improve poor Hans Christian's pro- 
 spects. ** My stepfather was a quiet young 
 man," he writes, "who altogether declined 
 to interfere in my bringing up, so I lived 
 entirely for my peepshow and my puppet 
 theatre ; and it was my greatest pleasure to 
 collect for it coloured scraps of cloth, which 
 I then cut out and sewed together. My 
 mother looked on it as good practice towards 
 my becoming a tailor, for which calling she 
 considered me born. I declared, on the 
 contrary, that I would be an actor," — a pro- 
 posal regarded with horror by the mother, 
 whose notions of the profession were taken 
 from the performances of strollers and rope- 
 dancers. Afterwards the boy got a litde 
 elementary instruction at a charity school, 
 where he wrote poems in honour of the 
 master's birthday, and was laughed at for 
 his pains. In due time he was confirmed, 
 whereupon his mother insisted that he should 
 
AS RELATED BY HIMSELF. 19 
 
 be apprenticed at once to a tailor ; but the 
 boy who, with all his good-nature, possessed 
 plenty of quiet determination, had managed 
 to save up a little store of thirteen dollars, 
 and actually prevailed on his parent to let 
 him set out, with this exceedingly slender 
 provision, to seek his fortune at Copenhagen. 
 The visit of a travelling opera comedy 
 troupe at Odense shortly before the lad's 
 confirmation, when, by the connivance of a 
 friendly bill-sticker, he had witnessed the 
 performance, had convinced him that his 
 vocation was the theatre. And now for three 
 dollars a postillion was induced to carry him 
 as a *' dead-head " passenger to the capital. 
 He had but a single letter of introduction 
 to a certain Madame Schall, a dancer, who 
 thought he was mad, and got rid of him as 
 soon as possible. 
 
 A day or two saw him reduced to his last 
 dollar. He made up his mind to get work 
 at a carpenter's, but was driven away, as 
 he had been at the factory, by the coarseness 
 of the workmen. In his distress the idea 
 
20 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S LIFE: 
 
 occurred to him to apply to the singer 
 SibonI, the director of the music school at 
 Copenhagen ; and, fortunately, Siboni had a 
 dinner-party at his house when the lanky, 
 Starving lad came and related his story. 
 Among the guests were Baggesen the poet, 
 and Weyse the celebrated musical composer. 
 The boy was introduced to the company, and 
 sang and recited poetry. Weyse was struck 
 with his voice, and Baggesen with his 
 poetic feeling. Siboni promised to culti- 
 vate his voice, prophesying that he would 
 become a great dramatic singer some day. 
 They made a collection of seventy dollars for 
 him, and Siboni received him into his own 
 house as a pupil. 
 
 But alas ! within half a year, the voice on 
 which so many hopes were built gave way 
 utterly, and Siboni frankly counselled the 
 poor despairing lad to return to Odense and 
 learn a handicraft. But he had written to 
 his mother in a jubilant, hopeful strain, when 
 he thought his fortune as good as made ; and 
 the idea of the ridicule he would surely en- 
 
AS RELATED BY HIMSELF. 21 
 
 counter in his native place made him resolve 
 to remain in Copenhagen at all hazards, 
 though he had nothing like a definite plan 
 for the future. Some kindly people, — -Pro- 
 fessor Weyse, Kuhlau the musician, a 
 Colonel Guldberg, and others, — clubbed to- 
 gether to make up a little monthly purse for 
 him, and he was enabled to hire a room, 
 ** which was only an empty storeroom, with- 
 out window or light, in one of the most 
 notorious streets of Copenhagen," where his 
 h ird landlady made him run her errands, and 
 domineered over him. Of the mysteries of 
 the great city, which were daily enacted 
 before his eyes, he understood nothing. '' I 
 was still such a child," he says, '' that I 
 played with a puppet theatre and made 
 doll's clothes; and, to get scraps of various 
 colours, I used to go into the shops and 
 beg for patterns and shreds of silk fabrics 
 and ribbons." 
 
 Step by step he pursued his toilsome way 
 upwards. In the son of the librarian of the 
 University he recognised an old inhabitant 
 
22 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S LIFE: 
 
 of Odense, and obtained permission to read 
 in the library and to take books home. 
 Colonel Guldberg procured for him some 
 tuition in the German language. He made 
 his way Into the theatre, and was allowed to 
 appear on the stage, as an undistinguished 
 unit in a crowd, during a market scene ; and 
 it was a proud moment for him when he saw 
 his name actually printed in the play-bill, 
 when the ballet of "Armida" was produced. 
 But the sum collected for him was nearly ex- 
 hausted when he entered upon the second 
 year of his life at Copenhagen. He was 
 obliged to curtail his very small expenses, 
 and was ashamed to confess how sharp was 
 his misery. " I had gone to live at the 
 house of a sailor's widow," he says, "where 
 I only had lodging provided, and coffee in 
 the morning. Those were bitter, dark days 
 for me ; the woman thought I went out to 
 dine with various families, when in reality I 
 used to sit on a bench in the Royal Gardens, 
 eating a small roll. It was but seldom that 
 I ventured to enter one of the humble kind 
 
AS RELATED KV HIMSELF. 23 
 
 of eating-houses, and take my seat at 
 the most distant table. I was, in fact, very- 
 forsaken, but I did not feel the whole burden 
 of my condition : I took every one who spoke 
 a kind word to me for an honest friend. 
 God was with me in my little room, and 
 many an evening, when I had said my even- 
 ing prayer, I asked Him, in childlike fashion, 
 ' Will it ever go better with me ? * 
 
 " I had an idea that what occurred to one 
 on New Year's Day would be repeated in 
 one's life throughout the year. It happened 
 to be New Year's Day ; the theatre was 
 closed, only an old part-blind porter sat at 
 the door leading to the stage, which was 
 quite empty. With a beating heart I 
 slipped past him, and made my way between 
 the scenes and curtains right towards the 
 front of the stage. There I knelt down, 
 and wanted to declaim ; but not a line would 
 come into my head. Then I said the Lord's 
 Prayer aloud, and went away fully convinced 
 that because I had spoken from the stage on 
 New Year's Day, I should get to speak more 
 
24 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S LIFE: 
 
 from the same place in the course of the 
 year, and should have a part given me to 
 play." 
 
 Two years of want and misery left him 
 sufficiently childlike in spirit to fling his 
 arms round a tree, as round an old friend, 
 when he managed to find his way into the 
 Royal Gardens in spring. He wrote an- 
 other tragedy, into which, in his innocence, 
 he copied passages line by line out of Hol- 
 berg ; and, when taxed with the plagiarism, 
 replied naively, '* Yes, but they're so beauti- 
 ful ! " Little by little his fortunes began to 
 mend. His voice came back in some meas- 
 ure, and he was admitted among the chorus 
 singers in the theatre. Guldberg remained 
 his friend. Andersen wrote several plays, 
 and offered them to the theatre, but received 
 them back with the intimation that pieces 
 were not wanted from writers who showed a 
 lack of elementary education. At the same 
 time came a dismissal by the management 
 from the chorus and the ballet, on the 
 ground that these could lead to nothing ; 
 
AS RELATED BY HIMSELF. 2$ 
 
 but coupled with a desire that the young 
 man's friends would do something towards 
 procuring him the instruction, without which 
 the possession of talent was practically use- 
 less. '* I felt, as it were, thrust out into the 
 wide world," says Andersen, '' without help 
 and without support." The whole of that 
 summer he went on alternately hoping and 
 desponding. He borrowed volumes of 
 Walter Scott, and forgot his poverty in an 
 ideal world, often spending at the library 
 the pence that should have bought his 
 dinner. 
 
 The tide in the affairs of Hans Christian 
 Andersen, that was ultimately to lead on to 
 fortune, now began to flow, just when affairs 
 seemed desperate. The struggling, un- 
 known genius found a true friend in Coun- 
 cillor Collin, the director of the Theatre 
 Royal at Copenhagen, who, discerning in 
 the young man's tragedy of ''Alfsol" many 
 grains of gold, recommended him to King 
 Frederick VI. The King placed him as a 
 pupil in the Latin school at Slagelse, with a 
 
26 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S LIFE: 
 
 Stipend that was to be paid quarterly through 
 Collin, who was to report periodically as to 
 the young man's industry and progress. 
 Right well did the worthy councillor fulfil 
 the duty of guardian to the timid, self- 
 distrusting scholar, who now, a grown 
 man, had to begin at the lowest round of 
 the ladder of learning. ''In the school I 
 was allotted a place In the lowest class but 
 one — among little boys," Andersen writes, 
 " for I knew nothing at all." 
 
 The years passed at the school of Slagelse 
 by Andersen were far from happy. The 
 headmaster or rector of the institution, a 
 good man In many respects, was as rough as 
 Dr. Johnson with his tongue, and perhaps 
 unable to appreciate the pain his rebukes 
 and jeers gave to the anxious, super-sensitive 
 scholar, who took far too literally every re- 
 proof, and was dismayed at the number of 
 subjects of which he knew nothing. But 
 Collin was a tower of strength to him. He 
 consoled him in his despondency, exhorted 
 him to perseverance, and prophesied a good 
 
AS RELATED BY HIMSELF. 2/ 
 
 result. *' Don't lose courage," he wrote, in re- 
 ply to a disconsolate epistle from the young 
 man; "be calm, collected, and prudent, 
 and you will see that everything will arrange 
 itself. The rector is well disposed towards 
 you. His manner of proceeding is, perhaps, 
 singular, but it leads to the goal." At 
 length, however, the depressing life at the 
 school in Slagelse had such an effect on 
 Andersen's health, that Collin suddenly took 
 him away to Copenhagen, to the great dis- 
 gust of the rector, who angrily told his pupil 
 at parting that he would never get so far as 
 to be a student, that his poems would rot in 
 the cellars of the publishers, and that their 
 author would end his days in a mad-house. 
 But, in spite of this lugubrious prophecy, 
 Andersen actually became a student at the 
 University of Copenhagen, and had a piece 
 accepted and produced at the theatre. It 
 was brilliantly successful ; and in a tumult of 
 excitement and delight, the young author 
 rushed out of the play-house to the abode of 
 his friend Collin, whose wife was at home 
 
28 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S LIFE: 
 
 alone. He sank down on a chair and burst 
 into tears. Misinterpreting the cause of his 
 emotion the lady began to offer consolation, 
 remindinof him that Oehlenschlaofer and 
 other great poets had been hissed in their 
 time. " But they didn't hiss at all ! " sobbed 
 Andersen, •' they applauded and cheered." 
 
 Now his brighter days began. '^ I was 
 a happy man," he writes ; ''I possessed 
 poetic power and youthful courage, all 
 houses began to open to me, and I flew 
 from circle to circle, but I continued to 
 learn diligently." He took a good degree, 
 and his collected poems were published 
 with much success. Still there were now 
 and then heavy clouds in his life's atmo- 
 sphere. His over-sensitiveness took alarm 
 at some harsh criticisms of writers, who 
 appear to have been offended at the suc- 
 cess of one whom they considered an inter- 
 loper in the domain of literature. Again 
 unhappy self-distrust got the upper hand 
 in his mind, and Collin judiciously pro- 
 posed that he should undertake a journey 
 
AS RELATED BY HIMSELF. 29 
 
 into Germany for relaxation and amuse- 
 ment. Accordingly in the spring of 1831 
 Andersen quitted Denmark for the first time, 
 travelling to Hamburg, and thence by Ber- 
 lin to Dresden. The new impressions ob- 
 tained on this first ''outing" from his own 
 land were valuable to him ; and indeed 
 there was need that he should enlarge the 
 circle of his ideas and of his literary activity. 
 Concerning this period of his life he writes, — 
 "From the end of 1828 until 1838 I had 
 to live by my writings. Denmark is a 
 small country, and in those days few 
 books went to Sweden and Norway ; so that 
 my receipts could not be great. I found 
 it difficult to get along — doubly difficult, 
 because my garb had to be in some measure 
 suited to the circles in which I was re- 
 ceived. To produce, and always to pro- 
 duce, was ruinous, nay, impossible." Ac- 
 cordingly he undertook various tasks of 
 hackwork, such as translations of foreign 
 plays, librettos to operas, etc. 
 
 And now, strange as it may seem, his 
 
30 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S LIFE: 
 
 own countrymen began to fling stones of 
 harsh criticism at him. Just as at an 
 early period of the career of Charles 
 Dickens certain critics were never weary 
 of hinting or openly asserting that " Boz 
 had written himself out" — and this long 
 before '* Dombey " or . '* Bleak House " or 
 ** David Copperfield " had appeared — so there 
 were detractors enough in Copenhagen to 
 assert that Andersen had said all he had to 
 say, and that his day was past. Again, many 
 were offended at the Idea that one who had 
 received no regular education until he was 
 almost a grown man, should claim to be ad- 
 mitted, on equal terms, to the society of 
 learned men and scientists ; and others pro- 
 fessed to discover solecisms and grammatical 
 slips In Andersen's work, even when the 
 proofs had been carefully read (this they did 
 not know) by University professors. No one 
 had more reason to exclaim, " Save me from 
 my friends ! " than Hans Christian Andersen. 
 But in contrast to these " good-natured 
 friends " stood the Collin family. Edward 
 
AS RELATED BY HIMSELF. 31 
 
 Collin, one of the sons of the worthy coun- 
 cillor, was as heartily disposed towards An- 
 dersen as his father. ''He always remained 
 the same," writes Andersen, gratefully, *' and 
 if I had to number my friends, he would be 
 cited by me as the first among them." The 
 detractors, however, unwittingly did the 
 object of their malevolence a great service. 
 They declared to him, with insulting pertin- 
 acity, that the only chance for him lay in 
 foreign travel ; and advised him to apply to 
 the King for a grant from the sum annually 
 devoted to the encouragement of men of 
 letters and science. Andersen took their 
 advice, made the application, and was suc- 
 cessful. A " travelling stipend " was awarded 
 to him. '* Rejoice, said the friends," writes 
 Andersen. *' Appreciate your boundless good 
 fortune ! Enjoy the present, for it will pro- 
 bably be the only time you will get away. 
 You ought to hear what the people say 
 because you are going to travel, and how we 
 are obliged to defend you — and sometimes 
 we cannot succeed in doing it." 
 
32 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S LIFE: 
 
 However, the great point was, that he did 
 get away to Paris, where he made acquaintance 
 with Heine, Victor Hugo, and other eminent 
 men, and whither one of his friends despatched 
 a letter after him — "a big, expensive letter," 
 he writes — which epistle, on being opened, 
 proved to contain a most ill-natured criticism 
 on him and his works, carefully copied out of 
 a Copenhagen paper, and sent to him with 
 the postage unpaid. '' On the 5th September 
 1833, I travelled across the Simplon into 
 Italy," he writes. *'Just on the fourteenth 
 anniversary of the day on which I had arrived, 
 poor and helpless, in Copenhagen, I was to 
 enter this land of my longings, and of my 
 poetic happiness." 
 
 On the 1 8th of October he arrived in Rome, 
 where he became associated with Thorwaldsen 
 the sculptor, and various congenial spirits, 
 who cheered him concerning his future, and 
 in some measure counteracted the bad im- 
 pression made by his captious critics. His 
 journey through Italy, in the course of which 
 he visited ^Naples and saw Capri, Passtum, 
 
AS RELATED BY HIMSELF. 33 
 
 Pompeii, and Herculanaeum, and afterwards 
 Florence, Sienna, Bologna, and Ferrara, forms 
 a new point of departure in Andersen's liter- 
 ary career. Its immediate result was the 
 charming novel "The Improvisatore.' 
 
 The book was published, the author receiv- 
 ing a very small honorarium for the copyright. 
 Its success was immediate and decided. The 
 adverse critics, though they could not at once 
 make up their minds to bless where they had 
 cursed, at any rate were silenced. " The 
 book raised up my depressed hopes," writes 
 Andersen, " gathered my old friends around 
 me, and gained me new ones. For the first 
 time I felt that I had really earned true ap- 
 preciation." And now critics in Germany 
 and in E norland beQ^an to draw attention to 
 the prophet who had been so scurvily treated 
 in his own country. " The Improvisatore " 
 was translated into German, and, by Mary 
 Howitt, into English. A new novel, with the 
 strange title '*0. Z.," considered by many 
 the author's best work, appeared with sue 
 cess ; and was soon followed by the first of 
 
34 HANS CHRISTIAN AM )]:kSi:N's LIFE: 
 
 those ''Tales and Stories for Children" 
 which have made the name of Hans Chris- 
 tian Andersen known throughout the world. 
 "Only a Fiddler," a charming and thought- 
 ful novel, appeared in 1837, and proved 
 another pillar in the temple of the author's 
 fame. 
 
 A journey to Sweden, during which he 
 made the acquaintance of Frederika Bremer, 
 further convinced Andersen of the estimation 
 in which he was held beyond the confines of 
 Denmark. 
 
 At home the remuneration his works brought 
 him in could hardly be considered princely. 
 " In my own country," he writes, "my books 
 belong to those that are always bought and 
 read, and so I got a higher payment for each 
 successive novel. But when it is considered 
 within what narrow bounds the Danish read- 
 ing world is limited, it may be imagined that 
 the honorarium could not be of the richest ; 
 still I could live, though I was sometimes 
 pinched. Charles Dickens was greatly as- 
 tonished when 1 wrote to him that * The 
 
AS RELATED BY HIMSELF. 35 
 
 Improvisatore ' had hardly brought me in 
 200 marks (^ro). For a long time he would 
 not believe it." 
 
 Andersen's friend, Collin, who, as the 
 warm-hearted poet gratefully wrote, was 
 *' among those men who perform more than 
 they promise," tried to get Hans Christian a 
 post in the Royal Library ; but the Chamber- 
 lain, to whose department the bestowal of 
 the appointment belonged, refused it, on the 
 ground that Andersen was " too talented " for 
 the drudgery of a librarian's life. But again, 
 good friends came to the rescue. The inde- 
 fatigable Collin was reinforced by Oersted the 
 philosopher ; and the two worked with such 
 success upon the feelings of Count Von 
 Rantzau Breitenburg, a minister of State, that 
 a pension — not a very large one — of 200 
 specie-dollars (about £4.5) was procured from 
 King Frederick VI. for the poet. Andersen 
 was jubilant. He writes : '' I was filled with 
 thankfulness and joy ; I was no longer obliged 
 to write to live ; I had a sure provision for 
 times of sickness ; I was less dependent upon 
 
36 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S EIFE : 
 
 the people who surrounded me ; and a new 
 division of my life began." 
 
 There were storms now and then, though 
 Andersen declared that the spring of his life 
 had commenced ; and some of the liveliest 
 breezes came from the direction of the 
 theatre. 
 
 The poet had written, and with considerable 
 success, for the stage at Copenhagen ; but the 
 audiences were sometimes the reverse of 
 good-natured ; it was considered a good joke 
 to hoot and whistle at a piece, *' and the fair 
 ladies smile and rejoice, like Spanish women 
 at their cruel bull-fights," says Andersen, 
 plaintively. The way of judging the pecun- 
 iary value of a piece, too, was somewhat 
 eccentric. A man of figures had been ap- 
 pointed director, and he Introduced the fashion 
 of reckoning the payment for a play according 
 to the number of quarters of an hour it took 
 in the performance, quarters begun but not 
 completed not being reckoned in. The actors 
 also gave themselves great airs, and patron- 
 ised the poor poet to an almost unbearable 
 
AS RELATED BY HIMSELF. 37 
 
 extent. There were a good many crumpled 
 rose leaves in the couch of a Danish dramatic 
 author In those days. Nevertheless Ander- 
 sen's tragedy, *' The Mulatto," had a grand 
 success. It was at this time he wrote his 
 charming series of sketches, '' The Picture 
 Book without Pictures," which became ex- 
 ceedingly popular In England under the title 
 of '' What the Moon Saw." 
 
 The year 1840 brought new travels ; and this 
 time the journey was continued from Italy to 
 Greece and Constantinople. The story of 
 this tour was told In a new book, ** A Poet's 
 Bazaar." On his way, at Leipzig, he made 
 the acquaintance of Mendelssohn, who had 
 already learnt to know him through his writ- 
 ings, and became one of his best friends. In 
 the winter of 1843 he paid a visit to Paris, 
 and was heartily pleased at the warm welcome 
 he received from the literary and artistic 
 celebrities there. Jovial Alexandre Dumas 
 received him with enthusiasm. The courtly 
 Lamartine spoke approvingly of the literature 
 of the North. Louis Blanc, Victor Hugo, 
 
33 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S LIFE: 
 
 and many other writers of European reputa- 
 tion, received him cordially as a brother and 
 comrade ; and Rachel, at that time the 
 acknowledged queen of tragedy, went out of 
 her way to be gracious to the quiet, plain 
 visitor from Denmark, who paid her such 
 honest compliments In his very defective 
 French. Heine, also, who was already suffer- 
 ing from the mortal disease that rendered his 
 life a martyrdom for years, understood and 
 valued the simple, straightforward, self-made 
 man of letters, and laid aside, In his favour, 
 all his caustic wit and satire. 
 
 " I did not notice In him," says Andersen, 
 " any bitter, Insulting smile, — I heard only 
 the beating of a true German heart, such as 
 
 is always found in his songs, which must 
 
 1* " 
 live. 
 
 Whatever of adverse criticism still re- 
 mained in Denmark with regard to Hans 
 Andersen's works, was effectually silenced 
 when the first collected edition of his ' * Tales 
 and Stories" appeared in 1843. The charm 
 of these wonderful productions was acknow- 
 
AS RELATED BY HIMSELF. 39 
 
 ledged by all. Even from the • stage it 
 became the custom of some of the best comic 
 actors to relate to the audience a tale of 
 Andersen. "It was a change from the de- 
 clamatory poems that had been heard till 
 people were tired of them," says Andersen, 
 We should say it was. Into most European 
 languages these stories were translated, 
 and everywhere their success was the 
 same. 
 
 In 1847 Andersen visited England, and 
 in his autobiography he has recorded the 
 impressions left upon him by his journey. 
 Crossing by steamer from Rotterdam to 
 London, he was astonished by the aspect of 
 the great river, with its shipping and craft. 
 ''The Thames," he says, "gives evidence 
 that England rules the seas." London as- 
 tonished him by its vastness and evidences 
 of wealth ; but he had also an eye for the 
 startling contrasts of our nineteenth century 
 civilisation, and speaks mournfully of the 
 wretched objects he encountered in the 
 grandest streets, standing mute, afraid to 
 
40 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S LIFE: 
 
 beg, but appealing by sad gestures and 
 glances to the pity of the passers-by. 
 
 The Danish ambassador, Count Revent- 
 low, introduced him into aristocratic houses, 
 Lord Palmerston's and others ; and for three 
 weeks, during the height of the London 
 season, Andersen, greatly to his own discom- 
 fiture, found himself sought after as a "lion." 
 A wealthy friend took him to Scotland, 
 where Lord Jeffrey of the *' Edinburgh Re- 
 view," Professor Wilson, and other congenial 
 spirits were added to the long list of his 
 friends. On his return to England, he found 
 a hearty letter of invitation from Dickens, 
 whom he visited at a *' pretty, charming little 
 house at Broadstea?^ " — (it was the famous 
 Bleak House at Broadstairs), and who de- 
 lighted him by appearing at Ramsgate to see 
 Andersen off by the boat, when the poet 
 departed for Ostend. On a later occasion 
 he had the opportunity of improving his 
 friendship with Dickens by a visit to the 
 great novelist at Gads- Hill. 
 
 The later years of Andersen's life were 
 
AS RELATED BY HIMSELF. 4 1 
 
 uneventful, but eminently satisfactory. His 
 modest requirements were fully satisfied by 
 the income he derived from his works, 
 supplemented by the pension from the King. 
 
 He came to be looked upon in Denmark 
 as a public institution, and the King and 
 Royal family treated him as a personal 
 friend. In 1867, his native town of Odense 
 voted him the freedom of the city, with the 
 request that he would visit the place and 
 take up his diploma. He came accordingly, 
 and was the honoured guest of the muni- 
 cipality in the town that he had quitted 
 many years before as a poor boy, almost 
 penniless, to seek his fortune. In the even- 
 ing Odense was illuminated to celebrate his 
 coming. The prophecy of his childhood's 
 days was fulfilled. 
 
 Andersen was never married. He died 
 full of years and honours, at Copenhagen, on 
 the 4th of August 1875. He had just com- 
 pleted his 70th year. 
 
 H. W. D. 
 
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Andersen to Ludvig Laessoe. 
 
 HOFFMANSGAVE, \2,th July 1830. 
 
 Dear Ludvig, — Did you not say that 1 
 
 could address you thus ? Accept my hearty 
 
 thanks for your friendly letter and the news 
 
 contained in it. Please tell your worthy 
 
 mother that she thought for certain no work 
 
 of mine would appear at the New Year ; 
 
 but, if she remembers, I maintained that 
 
 there would. Now it looks as if I should 
 
 win, because at the New Year there will 
 
 be published a whole book as big as the 
 
 poems, namely a poetical medley (en poetisk 
 
 lydepotte for 1831). The contents will be 
 
 4? 
 
HANS C. ANDERSEN'S CORRESPONDENCE. 43 
 
 very mixed, — half poetry and half prose. Up 
 to now 1 have only a third part of it ready, 
 and it will contain the well-known — ''The 
 Man from Paradise," ''A Sketch after 
 Nature," "The Comet, 1834," and "Avis 
 aux Lectrices." But of new things I have 
 already " The Mermaid in Tamso," *' Frag- 
 ment of a Rhymed Epistle (Rimbrev)," both 
 of which have undoubtedly now been pub- 
 lished in " Flyveposten." "The Jutland 
 Heath in Rainy Weather," " Longing with 
 the Pots," " Phantasy at the North Sea," 
 '^Picture from the West Coast of Jutland," 
 ''The Beautiful Grammatica" — a touching 
 novel after Schopenhauer — "Ideas for 
 People Who Have None Themselves," — a 
 little book of help for those who want to be 
 poets. That is already a great lot, you see. 
 The best of all is no doubt " Phantasy at the 
 North Sea ; " some people here in Odense 
 even like it better than all my poems; but 
 this is too much. I send it now to your 
 dear mother, who undoubtedly has read the 
 two small things in " Flyveposten," and if 
 any one of the three please her, I ask, as a 
 
/)4 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 proof, that she will gladden me with two or 
 three lines by her own hand in your letter, 
 please. 
 
 But I must not forget that you have not 
 enough subjects for your essays. Now I will 
 give you six, — i. Love of Country; 2. The 
 most important incidents in the life of Moses; 
 3. A fine winter's night ; 4. The relation of 
 the fine arts to each other ; 5. The use of 
 the printing press ; 6. Point out the places 
 in biblical history where the woman has 
 acted scarcely as well as she ought to have 
 done. In reality there ought to be as a com- 
 panion essay, one showing all the places 
 where the men have acted nobly ; but that 
 would be too lengthy, and therefore it is 
 enough with the women. But I think that 
 your good sister will, on seeing the sixth 
 subject, say that I am nasty ! 
 
 It is a bad summer, still worse than last 
 year, — rain, and rain, and again rain ; from 
 sheer despair I am writing for my ''Jutland 
 Pot." Some days ago I went from Odense 
 to Hoffmansgave, a large manor-house be- 
 longing to Hoffman Bang. The lady of the 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 45 
 
 house Is a daughter of the late MalHng. 
 Here are antiquities, Hbrary, curiosities, and 
 all you can wish for. My bedroom is close 
 to a large picture-gallery, and the garden, 
 which is nearly two miles round, is full of 
 flowers, of which the majority are quite un- 
 known to me. Beyond the garden there 
 is a stretch of about eight miles of flat 
 country. This morning I went for a very 
 interesting drive four miles out on a tongue 
 of land only a few yards wide, which is be- 
 tween Odense Fjord and the Cattegat 
 which rolled its black waves towards me. I 
 stood at the utmost point and picked up a 
 small pebble and some sea- weed. 
 
 While I am writing this the nightingale is 
 singing In the garden outside : It Is late, and 
 the weather is beautiful. To-morrow I am 
 leaving for Odense, where I intend to finish 
 my letter to you. It is St. Canute's Fair : 
 there Is life everywhere. But now good- 
 night. 
 
 Odense, i^th July 1830. 
 
 On my arrival here I received your kind 
 letter, but, my dear friend, it was so dread- 
 
46 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 fully short ; not more than nine lines and a 
 blot on the first page ! Next time you must 
 really write a little closer, and on all three 
 pages. Odense Fair is now over ; we had 
 glorious weather and splendid opportunities 
 for studying life. The last day I was in 
 Hoffmansgave I had quite a treat, — I saw 
 some infusoria. Just think, there was only 
 one little drop of water on a piece of glass, 
 and it was a whole world of insects, of which 
 the largest looked like grasshoppers, the 
 smallest as pins' heads. Some of them were 
 really like grasshoppers, others had the most 
 monstrous shapes, all were tumbling about 
 each other, and the big ones swallowed their 
 smaller neighbours. I saw i7t/usoria in my 
 own blood ; it swarmed with eels and cod and 
 all sorts. This was no optical illusion I could 
 see by the forms of the insects and the move- 
 ments of the different joints ; and, besides 
 this, when you touched the globule with the 
 point of a pin dipped in acid, they at once 
 fled to the other side and died a moment 
 after. The white mould in ink was a great 
 forest, with plants, trees, and bushes ; the 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 47 
 
 infinite opened before me, and 1 turned 
 dizzy. 
 
 I am very pleased that your dear mother 
 is going to Moen, I hope the weather may 
 be fine, and she will then really enjoy the 
 trip. I wish I could be there with you, and 
 if, when we had seen the view from '* Dron- 
 ing Stolen," we turned to the microscope, 
 like the one in Hoffmansgave, to see the 
 infusoria in the drop of water, we should be 
 standing between two infinities. 
 
 Now please remember to ask your mother 
 to favour me with a few lines in your letter 
 as regards the poems, '' The Mermaid in 
 Tamso " and ** Phantasy at the North Sea ; " 
 besides this I should like to know what she 
 thinks of my "■ Poetical Jutland Pot" 
 
 Remember me kindly to your dear father, 
 and also to Dina, and all the brothers. I 
 could wish for your sister's sake that it 
 would blow a gale when she goes by the 
 steamer, so that she might try if it would not 
 move even the stoutest heart. I am off soon 
 to Svendborg, Faaborg, Assens, and Taasinge. 
 I think it will be a pleasant trip. Please let 
 
48 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 me have a letter from you soon — very soon ; 
 I am longing for one, because the last was 
 nothing. I am sure nobody at home could 
 have seen it, or they would have asked you 
 to write a little more. It Is easy enough, — all 
 you have to do Is to chat, and write what you 
 say. Adieu. — Yours, 
 
 Andersen. 
 
 This letter of mine is equal to four of 
 yours ; therefore, please don't make them so 
 short. The last I got drove me to despair ; 
 it was as short as a sneeze, but still I would 
 say, "God bless you." Write and write more. 
 Tell me all about this and that, about all at 
 home and all outside, or about myself. You 
 know I like that : don't I ? Farewell ! 
 
 Anderseii to Mrs. Iversen, 
 
 Copenhagen, ird September 1830. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Iversen, — Now we are begin- 
 ning in the old style to chat through the 
 medium of a sheet of paper ; how tiresome it 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 49 
 
 is ! It is really like paying a visit with one's 
 eyes blindfolded ; but still it is always some- 
 thing. I miss all of you so very much, al- 
 though I have not yet been alone in my 
 room with my work, but flitted about from 
 one visit to another. I was so much at 
 home with you, and, after all, I feel to want 
 a real home. It will take a long time before 
 I shall settle down to my room ; in town I 
 am already at home, though the first day 
 seemed dull and irksome to me. But now 
 let us have a little chat about the journey. 
 We did not get away by the post from 
 Odense before six o'clock, and I got under 
 cover with Mikkelsen, and thus escaped all 
 rain. At ten o'clock we arrived at Nyborg, 
 and about twelve we went on board. Of 
 course a gale sprang up — I always come in 
 for that — and the stupid steamer stands worse 
 on her legs than Dania. Bless me, what a 
 passage ! The seas went over my head, and 
 ran down under my neckerchief. I promised 
 I would not go to Norway next summer, but 
 still now I think I shall. All the ladies 
 were sea-sick ; but I was not, which is a 
 
 D 
 
so HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 great wonder ; however, had we been only a 
 quarter of an hour longer on board, I should 
 undoubtedly have had to pay my tribute to 
 father " Neptune." 
 
 At Slagen I parted from Mikkelsen, and 
 kept my carriage as far as Roshilde ; but not 
 beyond, because the road was so bad that it 
 almost shook me to pieces : it was a real 
 torture. The Roshilde road was in such a 
 state that the poor horses could only drag us 
 half-way. We were obliged to get fresh 
 horses at the inn in Roshilde, and trudged to 
 Copenhagen, arriving there about twelve 
 o'clock. We were here detained a whole 
 hour at the post-office, so there was 
 no time to go anywhere, and I, together 
 with a vicar, Boumman, from the neighbour- 
 hood of Odense, went to an hotel, where we 
 knocked the people up, but they would not 
 let us in before we had shown them our 
 passports, as they thought we had been on 
 the spree. Next morning at eight o'clock I 
 took a cab, went to the post-office, got my 
 luggage, and proceeded by Ostergade home. 
 You may be sure it was a tiresome journey ; 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 5 1 
 
 I amused myself by thinking what all the 
 children (pardon me, I mean the big girls) 
 would say to this and that had they been 
 present. 
 
 Mrs. Laessoe likes Jette very much from 
 my description of her. Over the chocolate I 
 told her how much the Misses Hauch were 
 longing for town, and their poetical ideas 
 about it, and she thought that they had the 
 best of it, as here there were only narrow 
 streets and towering houses, which seemed 
 to shut us out from beautiful nature. 
 
 My opera has now been finally accepted 
 for performance, and Manthey praises it 
 highly — par diable ! At Laessoe's they pre- 
 fer (of my new poems) '' The First and the 
 Last." Councillor Oersted ^ likes '' The 
 Mother and the Boy on the Heath " best, 
 and Collin likes " Calm." Collin says that 
 Molbech takes a great interest in me, and his 
 
 ^ Oersted (Hans Christian), celebrated Danish philo- 
 sopher and statesman, born at Rudkjobbling in the Danish 
 island of Langeland, 14th August 1778. He was an ardent 
 student of nature, and made in 1819 his great discovery 
 touching the unity of electricity and magnetism. He died in 
 Copenhagen, 9th March 185 1, 
 
52 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 influence will no doubt be of much service to 
 me. Please let all read this letter if it will 
 amuse them, because while I am writing it, 
 I fancy that I am sitting in the midst of you, 
 chatting away to my heart's content. I hope 
 nobody is angered by the cruel comparisons, 
 neither the ''sausage with the butterfly 
 wings," nor '' Venus in the kitchen " ? 
 These two matters cause me a certain 
 amount of anxiety. 
 
 Everybody has read Elmquist's notice of 
 my sojourn in Aarhus, and Heiberg said to- 
 day that he should like to go over there him- 
 self to be received like a Rothschild. Jette 
 Wulff sits perhaps at this very moment on 
 Blocksberg, for she is now in the Hartz. 
 Last Saturday, when I left Odense, Mrs. 
 Wexschall was parted from her husband : 
 she is at present suffering with inflammation 
 of the throat (partly in consequence of which 
 she is not going to act for a month). People 
 say that Wexschall has got permission to go 
 abroad for some time. Miss Jorza is said 
 not to have been a success in Dobberan, 
 where she has been staying. Mrs, Liebe 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 53 
 
 has retired from the theatre. The new 
 guard-house looks rather handsome ; it has 
 been made a storey higher, and will soon be 
 ready. In the meanwhile the soldiers have 
 a wooden house In the market-place. The 
 theatre also looks rather smart In Its new 
 white-grey coat. I have read LIndsberg's 
 piece ; It Is a flat, trifling little thing, and 
 the only reasonable part Is what he quotes 
 from Clausen : so foolish a piece Is beneath 
 criticism. LIndsberg wants us to believe 
 that there Is neither myth nor poetry In 
 the Bible, but that our Lord wrote It him- 
 self, and that Christ was In hell for three 
 days to convert the heathen. 
 
 There was a most select company present 
 at the wedding of Miss Lange and Mr. 
 Larcher. Councillor Collin was paired with 
 the ugly Miss Werning; Councillor Manthey 
 with Miss Larcher the opera-dancer; the 
 dancer Funck with Mrs. Btilow ; etc. 
 
 The poet Johannes Wlldt has contributed 
 some verses to the newspaper '' Dagen," In 
 celebration of the event. 
 
 Last night (Thursday, the 2nd Septem- 
 
54 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 ber) the theatre was opened with Oehlen- 
 schlager's^ new comedy, ''The Triplets in 
 Damascus/' with music by Kuhlau, which is 
 said to be splendid. Kuhlau condticted the 
 orchestra himself^ and was applauded im- 
 mensely after each number ; but only once, 
 at the most twice, was there any applause 
 for the comedy during the performance. It 
 will scarcely be a good piece for the theatre, 
 but it promises more to read it. The 
 triplets — Baiet, Schwartzen, and Winslow 
 junior — were made up so much like each 
 other that nobody could see the difference. 
 I have not yet been in the theatre, because 
 Manthey, who should have given me the 
 ticket, will not do so, as he says it is out 
 of the question until my opera has been 
 performed : the matter will now be brought 
 before the directors on Thursday, and then 
 
 ^ Oehlenschlager (Adam Gottlob), Danish poet, dramatist, 
 and friend of Goethe, Madame de Stael, Oersted, etc. He 
 was born near Copenhagen, 14th November 1779, and died 
 in that city 20th January 1850. Ochlenschliiger greatly de- 
 veloped Danish literature, and gave to it quite a new 
 character. Some of his finest tragedies have been translated 
 into English. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 55 
 
 it depends upon Molbech, who is on my 
 side, gaining the day. This Manthey is 
 really a very unpleasant fellow, and I could 
 almost get angry. Still he is obliged to 
 put on airs, while he lives. Ten years after 
 his death, he and all his glory will be for- 
 gotten. 
 
 '* The Paofes of the Duke of Vendome" is 
 rather pretty : one of them is in love with the 
 Duke's niece and serenades her ; the Duke 
 runs after him, but he manages to escape, and 
 though the Duke gets hold of his sash he 
 cannot recognise him, as the Page puts on a 
 sash similar to those worn by the other Pages, 
 and so it goes on. Finally the Duke pursues 
 him, while the other Pages are sleeping, in the 
 tent, and the serenader also pretends to sleep. 
 But the Duke hits upon the good idea of 
 feeling the hearts of all the Pages, and the 
 one which beats strongest is the right one. 
 That is how he is found out. Is this not 
 pretty? I hope all ends well for the Page. 
 I have forgotten to ask about it. Remem- 
 ber me kindly to all, and, if you have nothing 
 else to think about, then think of me ! Now 
 
$6 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 adieu, and thanks for the many happy days 
 I spent with you ! If my poems have 
 any value, then I am sure your friendly 
 society and quiet villa have inspired a great 
 part of it. — Yours very truly, 
 
 Andersen. 
 
 On Monday, between two and three 
 o'clock, I shall be with Heiberg, and read all 
 my new poems to him. He has promised 
 to be a severe critic. 
 
 A rider sen to Hen7^ietta Hauch. 
 
 Copenhagen, 1830. 
 
 My Dear Good — what dare I say .^ — 
 Good-day to all ! You cannot think with 
 what pleasure I opened the last letter, it 
 looked such a nice long one, and showed me 
 so clearly the jolly Jette, who would be angry 
 but cannot, and the natural, almost too pru- 
 dent, Caroline. Pardon me, but it is my duty 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 57 
 
 to write if I wish to see more of the dove 
 with the olive branch from the dear island 
 home. But may I ask you, dear Miss Jette, 
 how can it vex you to write a letter to me — 
 vex you that you are pleasing a human being? 
 Yes, the only reason you have is, that there 
 was more bitterness in it than vour heart 
 would dictate ; but nevertheless it pleased me 
 more than I can tell. You mean that I 
 imagine myself to be unhappy. Certainly 
 you have reason to believe it, and the world 
 will agree with you; but remember that much 
 passes not in the heart alone, but in reality 
 itself, which nobody knows, and which I dare 
 not reveal. Much — much has happened since 
 I last rambled about, buoyant and full of spirits, 
 in Tolderlund. Things have entered into my 
 life's drama which are not phantasy. You 
 say that besides my art and the contemplation 
 of nature I have memory, which should fill 
 every void; but that is just what transforms 
 my whole being, — my spiritual self has gained 
 the victory, now I am a poet, and dare say 
 it and feel it before the whole world, what- 
 ever people may call this feeling, — 
 
 I. 
 
58 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 "Nur die Lumpe sind bescheiden 
 Brave freuen sich der That." 
 
 I hope you will not have a headache when 
 you again gladden me with a letter, which 
 I shall expect soon. Please don't write 
 any dashes — let your heart speak freely as I 
 know it can. You and Caroline are, I know, 
 the only ones who are thinking a little of 
 me. God bless you for it ; you don't know- 
 how it cheers me ! I wish I could tell you 
 through these silent words what a pleasure 
 it is to me to hear from you, and thus re- 
 call the many happy hours I enjoyed this 
 summer. I am well-nigh distracted — my 
 soul turns sick ; but away with these gloomy 
 spirits : it is of course imagination, is it not ? 
 But don't be angry with me if I seem a little 
 unkind ! 
 
 People are surprised at the tone of my last 
 poems ; just think, they believe I am in love. 
 Everybody thinks so, and I have heard the 
 names of several ladies upon whom rumour 
 has fastened my affection. It will perhaps 
 amuse you and yours. Some say that she 
 is a daughter of Elmquist in Aarhus, others 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 59 
 
 point to a Countess Moltke in Odense, 
 others again think that it is a Miss Hauch^ 
 in Odense. Some say it is a Miss Guldberg, 
 others assert that it is a Miss Heckscher 
 here in Copenhagen, while some declare it to 
 
 be Miss . The last guess is rather 
 
 foolish, as she is engaged, and I dare almost 
 take my oath, that she is no more to me, 
 than I to her. We have only seen one 
 another for a few days, and she will soon 
 be a bride. Oh, it is a foolish world ! Your 
 excellent sister ought also to have had a 
 letter to-day, but it is impossible, and I 
 venture to think that she will not find it so 
 easy to be cross, as you, at all events, 
 threaten to be. 
 
 I am now studying English and Italian, 
 working at a new opera for Bredahl (but it 
 is a secret). Am just about to finish another 
 larger work, — which is also a secret, — and I 
 
 ^ Daughter of John Carsten Hauch, a Norwegian scientist 
 and author, born 12th May 1790, died 4th March 1872. He 
 was a disciple of Oehlenschlager, whom he succeeded as pro- 
 fessor of aesthetics at the University of Copenhagen. He is 
 chiefly known by several excellent novels, which he produced 
 between 1834 and i860. 
 
60 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 intend to take lessons in philosophy, to 
 which I shall entirely devote myself! I am 
 getting old, and must think on something 
 serious. Here are a couple of poems. The 
 one called '^ The Pearl " Helberg says Is the 
 best I have written ! 
 
 If you procure the last ^' Flyvepost" you 
 will find a poem, "Amor and the Poet," 
 which has been a great success. It will ap- 
 pear in the new Cyclus ; but your father 
 may with pleasure put it in the paper at once, 
 so that all may read it. Remember me to 
 all. I have no time to read the letter over, 
 or it would be too late for the post. 
 
 In the greatest haste and with utmost 
 
 esteem. 
 
 Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to B, S. Incre7nann} 
 
 New Year's Eve, 1830. 
 
 Dear Professor Ingemann, — It is half an 
 eternity since I have spoken to you and 
 
 ^ Ingemann (Bernhard Severin), Danish poet and novelist, 
 born 28th May 1789. In 1822 he was appointed professor 
 
CORRESPONDENXE. 6 1 
 
 your dear wife. Last summer I passed Soroe, 
 but It was by post, and then you know there 
 is no time for visits. God knows when I 
 am coming to that part of the country again. 
 Next summer I am going to Norway. But 
 if I cannot pay you a visit in person, I will 
 be with you in spirit in my new poems. I 
 hope that they will please you and your 
 wife better than last year's, for these have 
 no doubt a far deeper keynote, and, as far as 
 the proverb is true, that '"what comes from 
 the heart goes to the heart," they will surely 
 be well received. I look forward with 
 pleasure to hearing from both of you as 
 to whether I have gone forward or back- 
 ward ; because I am sure that you will 
 send me a letter, as you know how much 
 it will please me, and how much I value 
 your good opinion. I have now commenced 
 more earnest work : I intend to study history 
 and philosophy, and am reading English 
 
 of Danish literature in the Academy of Soroe, which position 
 he filled until his death, 24th February 1862. His novels, 
 which were written somewhat after the style of Sir Walter 
 Scott's historical romances, became highly popular in Den- 
 mark, and were translated into German and English, 
 
62 HANS C. ANDERSEN'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 and Italian, in which languages I am 
 specially looking forward with pleasure to 
 reading Byron and Dante. 
 
 The summer I have passed very agree- 
 ably: I was a month in Jutland in most of 
 the large towns, and two whole months in 
 Funen. The fruits of this little excursion 
 are my new poems, among which I beg 
 'specially to point out '* The Son of the 
 Desert, " The Spirit of the Air," and '' Life 
 a Dream," — these three I like the best. My 
 opera, '' The Raven," is now set to music ; 
 the first act is ready ; meanwhile I am daily 
 working at another opera, '' The Bride of 
 Lammermoor " — a beautiful subject, you 
 know it well — from Sir Walter Scott. 
 
 My health is good, but still I don't feel 
 happy. I am not as I used to be : I feel I 
 am getting older, I begin to recognise in 
 life something far deeper than I ever dreamt 
 of, and feel that I shall never, never be 
 really happy here. I wish you were in 
 town, my heart is so devotedly attached to 
 you ; your friendly sympathies would be a 
 great comfort to me. Cheer me soon with a 
 
SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
HANS C. ANDERSEN'S CORRESPONDENCE. 65 
 
 letter, — a real long letter, — and when I read it 
 I shall think I am with you and hear what 
 you think of me and my music. Remember 
 me to your excellent wife, and think now 
 and then of yours very truly, 
 
 Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to B. S. Ingemann. 
 
 ilOV^'^YihG^'^^ 1 8th January 1831. 
 
 Dear Mr. Ingemann, — I ought to write 
 two letters, one to you and another to your 
 wnfe, as both of you have been thinking of 
 me ; but husband and wife are after all one^ 
 and will therefore know that I am speaking 
 to both. How clearly you have looked 
 through my poems into my inner self, how 
 forcibly do I feel myself drawn towards 
 you. Yes, you — you will not misunderstand 
 me, and with the more heartfelt confidence will 
 I meet you, for I want to pour out my soul 
 to sympathetic hearts. I am no longer as I 
 used to be, — life, — everything has a deeper 
 
 ^ 
 
^ HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 meaning for me ; I am now In a position In 
 which I feel the great whole in all its in- 
 tensity, but see that I never can be happy ! 
 I will not conceal anything from you, be- 
 cause you can feel It, and will feel with me ! 
 Yes, my poems are no imagination ; some- 
 thing terribly real is at the root of them. 
 It Is so miserable that it seems almost like a 
 bad dream. My soul and thoughts cling to 
 but one being, amiable and simple as I never 
 saw one before . . . but I feel how 
 hideous It sounds. She Is engaged, and Is 
 going to be married next month. My 
 friends poke fun at me about my poems ; 
 they have no Idea that a deep, sad truth 
 underlies them ; but It pains me to hear their 
 jokes, to which I am obliged to listen and 
 reply. I met her last summer for the first 
 time ; her family Is one of the highest 
 standing In the town, and I was at the 
 University with her brother. I had only 
 been three days In their house, and, as I felt 
 what I never before had felt, and heard that 
 she was engaged, I went away at once ; 
 but here in Copenhagen we met again three 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. ^J 
 
 weeks ago. ... I don't know, but God is 
 too hard on me. Oh, that I were dead! 
 Here I shall never be happy. Now you 
 know all, comfort me. But that you cannot 
 do — none can ! 
 
 Put yourself in my position ! I shall never 
 see her again — I ought not, and I dare not. 
 Still I have one consolation left : her brother 
 is for me, he knows all, and feels for both of 
 us ; he loves us both so much, and through 
 him I shall hear of her, but never from her ; 
 she has bid me good-bye ! She dares not, 
 and will not, speak to me any more, but do 
 her duty. . . . She is so beautiful, so gentle, 
 and good, you would love her, so would all 
 the world, and I know she has got the same 
 feeling for me as I have for her, and still I 
 shall never see her again. Next month she 
 will be a wife, and then she will and must 
 forget me ! Oh, it is killing me to think of 
 it! Dear, dear Ingemann, I wish I were 
 dead!— dead!— even if death were annihilation; 
 but it cannot be ! Life is rather a dream— a 
 miserable, long dream. But I trouble you 
 with my grief! Still if, as I think, my open 
 
6S HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 confession has reached your heart, then 
 please solace me, both of you, soon — very 
 soon — with a letter. To-day I had one 
 from Wiester, to whom I have sent my 
 last poems ; it was so kind. 
 
 Oh that I could reconcile myself to all 
 mankind ! Do not forget me ! My heart 
 tells me that you will write soon. — Yours 
 from my heart, 
 
 Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to C. H. Lorenzen, 
 
 Copenhagen, i8th February 183 1. 
 
 Dear Friend, — My best thanks for your 
 kind letter, which I received only Sunday 
 night, or, rather, which reached my hands 
 when I got home from a grand party, where 
 I had only been bored. I had almost 
 thought that you had forgotten me, so many 
 days passed before I heard a word from 
 you. Still I have forgiven you that, and 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 6g 
 
 also that you have lost both letters, al- 
 though it has grieved me; because in 
 Ingemann's there was so much out of my 
 heart, which would appear foolish to the 
 hard, unsympathetic world. It was written 
 from the depths of my soul, and should 
 not be read by anybody else ; but it is 
 done, and cannot be helped. Do not think 
 of it any more ; but this I ask of you, 
 that you tell both Ingemann and Wiester 
 that you have lost the letters, because they 
 will think it is wrong of me that I do 
 not answer them. Remember me kindly to 
 both of them. Oh, you will no doubt love 
 Ingemann when you have learned to know 
 him. I love him dearly, and his wife is 
 such an amiable, angelic being — ^just the 
 wife for him ; and surely he is happy, — 
 happier than a poet ever w^as. 
 
 You have seen that some one has written 
 in my defence as regards " Gjenganger- 
 brevene ; " he calls himself " Davieno." The 
 intentions of the man are undoubtedly good, 
 but he can scarcely write poetry ; I wish it 
 had been better. My new piece, *' The 
 
70 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 Bride of Lammermoor," is now finished as 
 far as I am concerned, and people say that I 
 have succeeded. 
 
 Last Monday it was very jolly at the club 
 (Foreningen) ; all enjoyed themselves. Both 
 the saloons were lined with firs, and living 
 sparrows were flying among the branches. 
 There was real spring water from the Palace 
 in our spring. It was hardly possible to 
 stand the noise. Fancy, the drum-major 
 was beating two drums ; at the swings there 
 was another big drum and cymbals ; be- 
 sides that, three barrel organs, clarionets, 
 violins, and dulcimers. They were all sound- 
 ing together. There was also " The For- 
 tress of Frederickstein" waxworks, Punch 
 and Judy (we had the real dolls). Our 
 carnival ladies were so nice-looking that 
 the professors fell in love. Agerskob was 
 a dazzling beauty ; Philipsen was the Jew 
 under the tree ; close to him was a ** Mag- 
 dalen home," with three Magdalens. I 
 appeared as a Jesuit and made a speech 
 in verse, but had not the luck to convert 
 any one. At dinner we had several songs, 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. /I 
 
 of which " Ole Bangs " undoubtedly was the 
 best ; I enclose a copy of mine. 
 
 I am very glad indeed that you are 
 content in little Soroe. It is beautiful in 
 summer-time ; I have passed many agree- 
 able hours there, and I hope that next sum- 
 mer we may meet under the green trees. 
 
 I am seriously thinking of my novel ; it 
 will be the first large work I have given 
 to the public. I am in rather better spirits ; 
 my dear, dear . . . does all to soothe the 
 killing melancholy which so frequently comes 
 over me. Last year I was a gay, wandering 
 minstrel, who ridiculed Werther, and this 
 year I am almost the same fool. A peculiar 
 luck has followed me all through my life 
 (later on I shall give you an outline of it) 
 which has impressed me with confidence 
 in Providence — nay, almost led me to believe 
 in predestination. My confidence is firm ; 
 I know that everything leads to some good 
 end. But still I can never be perfectly 
 happy, I feel it so acutely, that I shall never 
 be happy here. Life has already shown me 
 its darkest sides ; how I wish it was all over. 
 
72 
 
 Yes, how peculiarly romantic it sounds — a 
 thing which I detest — I do wish that I were 
 dead ! Believe me, I am not sickening like 
 a child without reason ; but what is the good 
 of talking of it ? May I only keep my 
 confidence in mankind ! No one has surely 
 met the world with a warmer and more open 
 heart than I did ; but surely no one has 
 been more ridiculed for it than I have, 
 and this has made me suspicious ; it is really 
 hideous. 
 
 Please write me soon. How is Hest ? 
 Do you like Hauch ? I know nothing of 
 the first, and only little of the other, and I 
 believe they know very little of me. 
 
 I have written two small poems, which 
 you will get next time. People think they 
 are two of my best ; but still they do not 
 like them, they are too sad ; but the sad- 
 ness is also of the poet. — Yours sincerely, 
 
 Andersen. 
 
 My song in the club you have surely read 
 in ** Kjobenhavnsposten," and therefore I do 
 not send it. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. yT, 
 
 Andersen to Mrs. Laessoe. 
 
 ILSENBURG, 
 Thursday, noon, 26th May 1831. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Laessoe, or all of you, — Here 
 is my carrier pigeon telling you a little about 
 me. I begin my letter from this place, 
 which is at the foot of the Brocken, and shall 
 add to it until I get to Leipzig, where I am 
 going to post it ; consequently it will consist 
 of disjointed fragments. Just fancy, the sea 
 was calm from Almack right to the German 
 coast, — not a soul sea-sick, — and I dined at 
 table dhote down below in the cabin. We 
 slept three together on divans, one with 
 his legs against the head of the other ; I 
 happened to be in the middle, and now one 
 of them would ask me to move my legs, the 
 other to move my head ; I was too long 
 for them. The Baltic was like a mirror, 
 but the coast of Holstein was wrapped in a 
 mist ; but this was only a curtain for the 
 land of Canaan ; we sailed into the Trave, 
 and the fog was behind us. 
 
74 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 Here was summer, all the fields were 
 yellow with flowers, the trees green. The 
 river winds for sixteen miles before you 
 reach Ltibeck, and it is very strange indeed 
 to be on so big a steamer in so narrow a 
 river. 
 
 Ltibeck is a very odd-looking and anti- 
 quated town ; all the houses have what are 
 called '* diels," with pointed gables and carved 
 figures. We arrived there Tuesday, at one 
 o'clock (noon). I saw the ** Dance Macabre," 
 and the Exchange ; but of all this you shall 
 hear more fully when I get home. The same 
 afternoon, I, together with some fellow- 
 travellers, took a close carriage and rolled 
 into Hamburg ; but here my sufferings 
 began: I had the most unbearable toothache. 
 I had not slept the previous night, and now 
 I had another night to travel. My toothache 
 worried me the whole of the next day in 
 Ham.burg, and even yesterday in Geislar I 
 had a little touch of it ; to-day it is gone. 
 
 Hamburg is a very interesting town ; there 
 are finer walks than in Copenhagen ; but you 
 are not to hear anything at all about this town 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 75 
 
 until I get home. I will only say that I saw 
 ''The Freischutz" one evening, and on another 
 a regular show-piece called "Cardillac," after 
 Hoffmann's tale ''Miss Scuderi." The the- 
 atre has four tiers, besides the pit ; and the 
 decorations were worth looking at. In " The 
 Freischutz," where the "wolfs pit" is repre- 
 sented, the wild huntsman was in brilliant 
 transparencies, and there were "Wills o' 
 the wisp ;" they dashed across the scene and 
 were like clouds of the most peculiar shapes. 
 On the 19th I was in the Botanical Garden ; 
 but all was in full bloom ! the nightingale 
 sang, and in the hot-houses were large bunches 
 of grapes. I met many Danes in Hamburg. 
 On the 2 1 St I left Hamburg by " Schnellpost" 
 to Brunswick, through the " Vierlands," which 
 extend for many miles along the Elbe. We 
 travelled in a narrow dyke. It all looked like 
 an immense garden. The cherry trees had 
 green berries, the window panes had pictures 
 painted on them, pretty children were running 
 at the side of the carriage, and offered us 
 flowers, among them moss roses, for a couple 
 of pence. After having passed the Elbe the 
 
^6 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 heath commenced. During the night we 
 arrived at Ltineburor which has not a house 
 of this century ; it was nothing else but old 
 churches ; the moon was shining beautifully. 
 The whole of the next day we travelled in 
 dust and heat : six people in a close carriage, 
 and shaken on the dreadful road, so that I 
 felt quite as if I had been cooked and beaten 
 when I arrived at Brunswick the next even- 
 ing, after being in the carriage thirty-three 
 hours ! Fancy ! 
 
 It was Whit Sunday, and at dawn our 
 carriage was decorated with green ; it looked 
 very nice. 
 
 Brunswick is a quiet town, with old- 
 fashioned houses. Here also I saw a show 
 piece : '' drei Tage aus dem Leben eines 
 Spielers ; " but it was so shocking to all 
 human feeling, that I left after the second 
 act. 
 
 The Palace was all down, with the excep- 
 tion of a few walls, and men were at work 
 restoring it ; the stones were split, and on a 
 building close by, you could see how the fire 
 and smoke had played up the wall. On the 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. jy 
 
 ruins some nursemaids were sitting singing 
 the barcarolle of '* La Muette de Portia," 
 while the children were playing on the 
 gravel. From a garden I could see the 
 Hartz mountains like a thunder-cloud. 
 
 Wednesday, the 25th May, I went to 
 Geislar, a town you will know from Heine's 
 ^' Reisebilder ; " here I was among the moun- 
 tains ! Oh, I wish you had been with me ! 
 Such a scene cannot be painted ; it is not 
 like the sky, nor the sea, it is as if the earth 
 were an ocean with mighty billows. I have 
 been down the mine, it was like descending 
 into the infernal regions : the veins were 
 sometimes as high as a church, sometimes 
 very narrow; they looked as if they were of 
 metal. I went arm in arm with a merchant, 
 to whom I was recommended. I pressed 
 close to him, and cried out once in Danish 
 to the guide that he should not walk so 
 quickly with the candle. (Now surely little 
 Dina is laughing. If she had been here she 
 would have turned back at once.) 
 
 The water rushed like thunder over our 
 heads; it was fearfully impressive. After 
 
yS HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 having seen a part of the town, I went this 
 morning (my first journey on foot) with a 
 guide to Ilsenstein, where it is thundering 
 just now ; but it does not roll so fearfully 
 among the mountains as inside them. Now 
 my way leads to the Brocken. 
 
 B ROC KEN {same evening). 
 
 Here I am sitting on Blocksberg and 
 writing to you in the middle of a cloud, a 
 nasty cloud which perhaps looks very nice 
 from below, and many a poetical genius 
 wishes himself up in this heavenly land of 
 the mountains ; but they should only try it ! 
 Here is snow, the fire is lit in the stove, and 
 I have an Englishman for my neighbour. It 
 is quite like winter ; I have been obliged to 
 take two glasses of punch, and I am now 
 going to bed, therefore no more from this 
 place. 
 
 At this very moment three of the 
 servant girls are dancing outside the 
 window. They have, after the German 
 fashion, flowino^ cloaks of cotton, and oods 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 79 
 
 over their heads; they are gathering flowers, 
 while light, misty clouds pass them like 
 lightning ; it is like the witch scene in 
 '' Macbeth ! " There is a party of thirty 
 besides the other travellers ; they have 
 brought musical instruments with them, and 
 play delightfully. As we cannot see any- 
 thing, I am now going to sleep to sounds 
 of music. 
 
 Blankenberg, 27/// May. 
 
 A DAY has passed since I wrote last. I 
 am now nine stunden from the Brocken. 
 Last night, after I had laid my pen aside, I 
 was called out of the house to see a curious 
 sight. The thirty travellers had dressed 
 themselves in comical attire, and, armed with 
 broomsticks, etc., were dancing a witch-dance 
 in the fog, through which the moon now 
 shone. I slept very well, and was called at 
 three o'clock in the morning. Fancy my 
 luck ! The heavens were clea7\ and I saw 
 the sun rise red and large; but the whole 
 
8o HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 country was hidden by mist. We stood 
 high above the clouds, which were Hke a 
 rough sea far below. The beauty of the 
 scene cannot be described ! I wish you 
 had been here. Later on the mist dis- 
 persed, so that we could see forty to forty- 
 eight miles up that part of the country. 
 From the Brocken I continued my journey 
 on the back of a mountain pony, which 
 went slowly step by step ; but it was bad 
 enough, for it was only two paces to the 
 precipice where the thick mist was lying 
 like blue-white snow. 
 
 From Ebingerode I went to Baumann- 
 shohle, a stalactite cave, which extends 
 several miles under the mountains. You 
 could not reach its limits in a fortnight. It 
 was almost worse to enter than the mine, 
 for it was so very damp. Each of the tra- 
 vellers had a lamp; I had enough to manage 
 mine and to climb down the ladders. The 
 stalactites had formed the strangest fan- 
 tastical figures ; sometimes we were in a 
 place scarcely broad enough for two, some- 
 times we could not see the mountain wall. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 8 1 
 
 Among the strangers was a Dane, who 
 said that he was a brother of Glovemaker 
 Hausen's wife in Great King Street ; he 
 might have been a brother of your late 
 housekeeper ; he was no doubt a mechanic. 
 
 ElSLEBEN, Simday afternoon^ 2()th May. 
 
 From Luther's birthplace, where I arrived 
 an hour ago, I am going to finish my letter. 
 Yesterday and to-day I have walked about 
 forty-eight miles ; I am not at all foot-sore, 
 but my fingers are blistered from carrying my 
 stock. I leave here at three o'clock in the 
 morning by coach for Leipzig, and then on 
 to Dresden. I have seen an old mountain 
 castle, Regenstein, and have sketched it with 
 a few lines in my diary, but I believe I can 
 explain it to you. I have been at Ross- 
 trappe, one of the finest and wildest parts in 
 the Hartz ; I should have liked to sketch it, 
 but my attempt came to nothing ; it is too 
 beautiful. 
 
 To-day I walked alone twelve miles 
 through a forest, where I only met one 
 
82 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 human being, — a shepherd with his crook, 
 and two big dogs. Now the remainder of 
 my journey, except the "sachsische Schweiz," 
 is more among people. As soon as I 
 have finished this letter I am going to see 
 the house where Luther was born. But 
 now adieu. Ask Ludvig to write these 
 three compositions : ist, Fidelity ; 2nd, 
 Love of one's Country ; 3rd, The History 
 of Denmark under Christian IL ; but not 
 word for word from other books. Ask him 
 also to go to my landlady, and remember 
 me to both. I shall certainly be back in 
 three weeks' time, perhaps before (the 20th 
 or 1 6th June). Ask them to send my hat 
 to the hatter who made it — his name is 
 inside — so that it will look nice when I get 
 home. In Hamburg a new one will be too 
 dear, and I have already spent a lot of 
 money. God grant my dear second mother 
 a happy and glad birthday ! My thoughts 
 are there. — With a son's regards, 
 
 Andersen. 
 
 I expect for certain a letter from you, dear 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 83 
 
 Mrs. L., with a few words from your hus- 
 band, for I dare not ask for a letter from him. 
 If you write, please let It be by the very 
 first post after you have received mine. 
 You can send It to Berlin poste restante ; I 
 shall possibly be at Berlin In nine or ten 
 days. Adieu ! 
 
 Andersen to Mrs. Signe Laessoe. 
 
 Odense, 2d August 1832. 
 
 It Is almost an eternity since we heard 
 from or saw one another. I must in my 
 dreams go back to your beautiful garden by 
 the sea ; how I am longing for all of you. 
 How is Ludvig, Dina, and Frederick .^ — I 
 mean all the good world belonging to you. 
 My thoughts are now In Zeeland, more than 
 I myself am able to understand ! I am a 
 peculiar being ! In Copenhagen I was long- 
 ing for Funen, and here I have been longing 
 for Copenhagen, or rather the people there. 
 
84 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 I can never enjoy the present, my life is in 
 the past and in the future, and there is in 
 reahty too Httle for a real man. I have been 
 in bad, very bad spirits here ; the weather has 
 been dull, and the sunshine from without and 
 within has been almost alike. I have been 
 about a lot from one mansion to another ; 
 still I have not been well, although I am not 
 ill. At Lykkesholm I fear they almost made 
 too much of me : they let me have everything 
 for which I expressed a wish. I slept in the 
 oldest bedchamber, where Kai Lykke had 
 slumbered. There was a long corridor out- 
 side, and the drawbridge just under my 
 window. Young Mrs. Lindegaard asked to 
 be especially remembered to you. You 
 have many friends in Ftinen ; I cannot call 
 to mind all the ladies who have asked me 
 to remember them to you. 
 
 In a pouring rain I looked over the whole 
 country from a close carriage ; people said 
 the fairies were haunting badly everywhere, 
 and I almost fancied I could feel their cold 
 kisses on my cheeks heated with fever. 
 
 On Bramstrop we had theatricals and 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 85 
 
 Other fun, and enjoyed ourselves splen- 
 didly. 
 
 I have also been in Sanderumgaard. The 
 garden is beautiful, but it is absurd for 
 people to talk so much about it. It is 
 an '' Ellemose " with walks, overladen with 
 inscriptions. I saw here a print which in- 
 terested me very much. It was a rock ; 
 you could guess that the sea was deep, deep 
 below, but could, only see where it rose in 
 the horizon, which was grey and wild. A 
 ship passed far out like a point, but foremost 
 on the rock stood Napoleon ; you only saw 
 his back, but you knew him ; a big sea-gull 
 hovered over him. At this moment some- 
 thing has occurred to me which I must tell 
 you. At Ingemann's I read a Swedish poet, 
 Beskow — one of his productions is called 
 "The Dying Poet," whom people ask if he 
 does not feel happy at the thought that his 
 name and fame will so gloriously survive 
 him, and he answers, '' Do you believe that 
 the swan soaring towards the sun thinks of 
 the little shadow its wings throw upon the 
 waves beneath ? " Is this not beautiful ? A 
 
86 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 noble idea like this satisfies and refreshes one. 
 When my stay in Funen was drawing to a 
 close I passed a few days at Hoffmansgave ; 
 we made a real carnival of it. We disguised 
 ourselves and sailed out into the Cattegat, 
 made up a fire, and boiled some coffee. I was 
 studying botany, walked aboutand atecherries : 
 it was splendid. Kirchheiner and Nielsen 
 have each given an evening entertainment 
 in Odense ; I was present. Nielsen recited 
 *'The Heart-Thief" beautifully. 
 
 It is a pity that Mathias Winther's dis- 
 graceful behaviour towards all Guldberg's 
 people should have cast a gloom over the 
 whole family. They are all fretting about 
 it, and cannot hide it. To-day Winther 
 has arrived at Odense in a close carriage 
 in all his pomp. People are very much 
 afraid of him. What do you think of the 
 death of the young Duke of Reichstadt .-^ 
 Of course, he was poisoned by those horrid 
 Jesuits ! The weather has not favoured me. 
 
 What a summer! One must get into 
 a Russian bath to drive the cold out. 
 One suffers from the ague as well as 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. Sy 
 
 catarrh, and will not be able to stand it 
 much longer, and then the winter comes 
 on stealthily and puts one into the winding 
 sheet ; and the worst of it is that this is 
 a contagious disease, so that the same fate 
 may be in store for all of us, and it is 
 really not at all nice for a mind which 
 is not longing for a bed under the green 
 sward, where the bed-curtains are made of 
 planed boards. The first part of this 
 letter is written in Ftlnen as you see ; but 
 I was not quite equal to finishing it ; I 
 have therefore been obliged to put it in 
 my portmanteau, and am concluding it at 
 Norager, where I arrived last night. 
 
 I hope here to finish my " Months." 
 Up till now I have only March ; but it 
 is a success. Of small poems I send you 
 a little trifle, ^' The Rose." 
 
 But adieu. I hope soon to see you and 
 yours all well and happy. Perhaps the 
 summer will have come when I arrive ; 
 some summer we must have. Remember 
 me to all. — Yours truly, 
 
 Andersen, 
 
88 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 Bishop Esaias Tegndr to H. C. Andersen, 
 
 OSTRADE, list December 1832. 
 
 Not long ago I had the pleasure of 
 receiving the letter with which you have 
 honoured me. As it is dated the 15th 
 October, it must have gone far out of the 
 way before it reached me. I take this 
 occasion to remark that the safest address 
 for me from Copenhagen is via Malmo, 
 where my eldest son takes the greatest 
 care of everything which my Danish friends 
 have the goodness to send me. I cannot 
 thank you sufficiently for the friendly letter 
 and the poems which accompanied it. The 
 former evinces a confidence in me which I 
 know how to value, and the latter give 
 evidence of the foundation of talents, which, 
 once concentrated, will undoubtedly redound 
 to the honour of your country.^ 
 
 ^ Tegndr (Esaias), celebrated Swedish author, born 13th 
 November 1782 ; son of a clergyman. In 1824 he was ap- 
 pointed Bishop of Menu, — died 2nd November 1846. His 
 first great poetical work, "Svea" (181 1), was crowned by the 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 89 
 
 On the one side, it is delightful to see 
 the progress and the cultivation of poetry 
 among a neighbouring people who sing in 
 a northern tongue, just as one would re- 
 joice in the advancement of a relation ; 
 but on the other hand, the comparison is 
 too humiliating for us Swedes, who cannot 
 be compared with our nearest related race 
 either in poetical range or quality, and are 
 only capable of a few lyrics. The great 
 poetical talents are truly always natural 
 gifts. The Creator bestows them freely or 
 niggardly as he will ; they are consequently 
 of an accidental nature, and can be counted 
 upon no more than happiness or the other 
 gifts of Heaven. But with us also the 
 promise of good, even of great, ability, is 
 not wanting ; only the pity of it is that it 
 most frequently remains merely a promise, 
 and most of us weary of the race at the 
 beginning. There is a restless craving in 
 
 Academy. Among the best of his numerous small poems 
 are " Charles XII." and the "Song to the Sun." His renown, 
 however, rests chiefly on his "Frithjofs Saga," which has 
 been translated into almost every European language. 
 
90 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 the Swedish blood to begin much and 
 complete little. External stimulants are 
 also absent, from the want of general cul- 
 ture ; and encouragement on the part of 
 the Government injures more than it aids, 
 for it generally consists in drawing distin- 
 guished authors away from their own orbit, 
 bedizening them with stars and ribands, and 
 placing them in offices of the Church and 
 State where it is impossible for most of 
 them to lead a purely literary life. By 
 this means our literature is certainly not 
 what it should be, nor even what it could 
 be; and our neighbours on the other side 
 of the Sound, with the same means and 
 culture, but a smaller population, excel us 
 by far, not only in the North, but also in 
 Europe. 
 
 As far as I am personally concerned 
 I scarcely count myself still among the 
 literati of my country. My severe illness 
 — stone — which chains me to my bed for 
 the greatest part of the year, bows not only 
 my body but also my mind, and robs me 
 of all pleasure in life. The physicians advise 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. , 9 1 
 
 me to use the Bohemian baths ; but that 
 would be a long and expensive journey, 
 and I consider it far better to die in my 
 own country, where it is at least cheaper. 
 But my bowed spirit still rejoices in 
 Northern poetry and culture, and greets 
 with fraternal joy the rising stars of our 
 Scandinavian sky. 
 
 I beg you to greet Oehlenschlager for 
 me, of whose domestic anxieties I have 
 heard, and which I deeply deplore. I also 
 desire to be remembered to my other 
 Copenhagen acquaintances, Miiller, Mynster, 
 MoUer, Clausen, Magnussen, and others. — 
 With friendship and esteem, 
 
 E. S. Tegner. 
 
 Andersen to Ludwig Miiller, 
 
 Paris, the \\th May 1833. 
 
 Here I am at last! I wish that you also 
 were here, my dear Ludwig ; Paris is the 
 
92 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 place! Berlin, Hamburg, and Copenhagen, 
 all of them are nothing. I have now been 
 here five days, and already feel at home, 
 and can find my way about quite easily. 
 But you must hear a little about the journey 
 from Hamburg. It was a regular gallop, 
 and I will write in the same style ; so now 
 please follow me. It rained in torrents till 
 we arrived at Hanover; here '*la grippe" 
 had seized on the citizens, and the weather 
 was villainously cold ; still I visited the 
 Obelisk and Leibnitz's monument. On the 
 heath we met swarms of women with 
 children on their backs : whole families 
 emigrating to America. We saw a car full 
 of young girls ; among them were two 
 Jewesses who wept and laughed in bidding 
 farewell to their home and an old Jew. 
 
 In Cassel nothing was as yet green ; still 
 I walked about Wilhelmshohe, where the 
 water leaps and dances like a trained dog. 
 It was only when we got near Frankfort that 
 the trees were green ; it seemed like the 
 height of summer. It is an interesting, cosy 
 town, and has something about it which 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 93 
 
 pleases my poetical soul. I walked about 
 the Courlander, and visited the Jewish 
 quarter, where Baron Rothschild's mother 
 still lives amongst the Jews, as she, with 
 pious superstition, refuses to leave the 
 house where her sons made their fortune, 
 lest fortune should cease to smile upon them. 
 The baron has a delightful garden outside 
 the town ; it is lighted by gas, and the 
 mansion itself is built in the Eastern style. 
 I visited the composer Aloys Schmitt, who 
 asked me to write a libretto for an opera ; 
 I asked him to excuse me as I did not know 
 German well enough. To this he replied 
 that he would wait, and would be satisfied 
 with an outline which another could finish. 
 It was important for him to get a subject 
 from a young, ardent soul. He wrote some 
 of the music of his latest opera in my album; 
 and I got a similar memento from the 
 celebrated Spohr, in Cassel. 
 
 Saturday, the 7th of May, I went to 
 Mainz. The road was occupied by cavalry; 
 beacons were erected which could be 
 lighted as soon as there was any move- 
 
94 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 ment in Frankfort, where there seemed to 
 be great excitement. 
 
 Sunday morning I started on my Rhine 
 trip, the weather was so beautiful ; the 
 skies were bluer than I had ever seen be- 
 fore, but still I was not struck by the country; 
 I had expected much more. The mountains 
 are not high, and the vines were without 
 leaves ; but the Rhine itself is grand and 
 broad, and on each bank were the ancient 
 ruins of castles and interesting relics of a 
 by-gone age ; they seemed to look down so 
 sadly that a strange feeling came over me. 
 The whole trip appears to me like a fairy 
 tale, a motley dream of antiquity. But the 
 journey to Paris soon brought me into 
 reality ; there was so much bother with our 
 passports, so many examinations and 
 scrutinies, that I got almost tired of the 
 whole journey. The portmanteaus were 
 opened almost half-a-dozen times, and in 
 every town we were surrounded by the 
 police. France is, however, very much like 
 Denmark, only there is such an awful lot of 
 chalk in the soil, especially in Champagne. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 95 
 
 Here we drank champagne at a dollar (2s. 3d.) 
 a bottle ; but still I should not like to live 
 here, even if the wine was dispensed free. 
 There were fifteen of us inside the carriage, 
 and three or four outside, besides all the 
 luggage! Fancy what a turnout! In a 
 small French town the horses went mad 
 during the night ; they kicked and snapped 
 at one another, neighing dreadfully all the 
 while. The ladies cried out, ''Holy Mary, 
 pray for us." I prayed very softly: '* O Lord, 
 if an accident is to happen, let me break 
 my neck." The horses then bolted, but 
 were soon stopped, and got a good thrash- 
 ing, which, I thought, they well deserved. 
 
 Metz is a large, imposing town, very much 
 like Hamburg. I was half asleep when we 
 reached Verdun, so I cannot say anything 
 about it, except that we all got into a large 
 kitchen, where we had some milk with a drop 
 of coffee in it, which the French call ca/e. 
 Friday, the loth, we arrived in Paris covered 
 with dust and parboiled by heat. At the 
 ba7^riere we were surrounded by the police ; 
 they were looking for some one in the car- 
 
96 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 riage, but did not find him. Of Paris we 
 could see nothing for dust before we got 
 right into the town. The impression was 
 very bad — narrow streets packed with houses. 
 I went to two hotels, but all the rooms 
 were occupied ; at last I got a little closet 
 in the Hotel de Lille, but it was very dear. 
 My window looked on to the Theatre 
 Vaudeville ; I went to bed in the afternoon, 
 because I had been travelling for five days 
 at a stretch from Mainz. About mid- 
 night I was awakened by a dreadful noise. 
 Everything was in flames about me. I 
 jumped out of bed, and now I saw a 
 thunderstorm, the like of which I have 
 never seen before ; the rain poured down ; 
 people were leaving the theatre and shout- 
 ing out for their carriages, which were 
 rumbling in a race with the thunder. Flash 
 followed flash ; but I went to bed again, I 
 was so tired. When I awoke the next 
 day Paris looked quite different. I met all 
 my countrymen at Lieutenant Dinesen's : 
 there was the theatre painter, Troels Lund, 
 Feddersen, Sager ; the naval . officers were 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 97 
 
 Dockum and Bjelke ; Jespersen and Cas- 
 tenskjold (gentlemen of the bed-chamber). 
 We went at once to the Artillery Museum, 
 where we saw models of the war material 
 used at the siege of Antwerp. 
 
 I have visited the composer Cherubini, 
 for whom I had brought some music from 
 Weyse ; and have been In the glorious old 
 Notre Dame, which is grand and impressive. 
 The light streams through many-coloured 
 windows ; pillars carry the vaulted bays 
 right up to the heavens. There was no 
 mass. The Parisians will not pay for it, 
 and the cathedral is in that respect entirely 
 like a Lutheran church. In the choir I saw 
 a priest, who was reading to some children. 
 Last night I was in the Grand Opera and 
 saw "Gustave" (the Swedish Gustave III.) ; 
 it was dazzling. You ought to see it. Now 
 I know what decorations are ! In the third 
 act you saw Stockholm by moonlight : the 
 moon was reflected In the water, light 
 clouds were floating in the air, and you 
 really looked up into God's blue skies ; there 
 was snow lying over the whole floor of the 
 
98 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 theatre — it was no decoration, it was reality 
 — the grand, beautiful reality. The whole 
 house applauded ! And then the mas- 
 querade in the last act ! No, it is im- 
 possible to describe it. I counted thirty 
 lustres and twenty chandeliers. There were 
 no side scenes and no side galleries. I 
 believe there were four to five hundred 
 masques. I had also the rare luck to see the 
 French Queen at the play; she is not pretty, 
 but very fair. The Swedish costumes were 
 correct enough. The opera was closed by a 
 dance. Everything was very charming. 
 
 But now to something else. How is the 
 proof-reading of my poems getting on ? 
 Will it soon be finished ? I have pro- 
 mised Oehlenschlager some contributions to 
 " Prometheus ; " I think I shall write some- 
 thing about the opera here when I have 
 seen a couple more : remember me to him. 
 Write soon to me, and send the letter 
 through the Embassy ; it will then not cost 
 anything. Do tell me when Otto^ is coming. 
 I shall be his guide, and can also, perhaps, 
 * Lud v;^ MuUer's brother, 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 99 
 
 be of some service to him in an economical 
 sense. The journey alone in three weeks has 
 cost altogether seventy species (about ^15) ; 
 it is well done, my countrymen say, and the 
 expenses are also according to my plan. 
 I have not forgotten a single thing during 
 the whole journey, but I have had all my 
 wits about me, and I find that I have done 
 very well. I am certainly a sensible man ! 
 — although you scarcely believe it. But now 
 adieu, my dear, dear Ludwig. How I am 
 longing for you ! Still I am not home-sick. 
 I often fancy that I am at home, and then 
 I speak Danish to the waiter. Remember 
 me to Otto and Bangs. — Yours truly, 
 
 Andersen. 
 
 My address is Hotel Vivienne, Rue 
 VIvienne, No. 14. 
 
 Andersen to Ludwig Miiiler. 
 
 Paris, 31^-/ May 1833. 
 
 I AM still without any letter from you, 
 and none from Edward ! What can 1 
 
100 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 think ? I who love you so dearly, and who 
 have such faith in your true friendship ! 
 There must be some reason for it of which 
 I am ignorant. Last Monday I expected a 
 letter for certain. When I got home from 
 dinner there was one for me ; I seized it 
 with joy, but it was a mere cover with the 
 " Kjobenhavns Post," in which there are 
 some impudent verses about me. The 
 author was afraid that I should not hear 
 anything about them, and he has sent it un- 
 stamped. There must have previously been 
 some verses in my praise, because such 
 seem to have been the cause of this. It 
 was the first letter I received. It is so paltry 
 to pursue me thus in a strange land, and it 
 astonished me for the first moment. After 
 that I despised the matter, and have now 
 almost forgotten it ; but I am longing all the 
 more for a letter from my friends. Other- 
 wise I am getting on very well in Paris ; I 
 like the town, and like it more the longer I 
 stay here. The fashion here is loose enough. 
 All is shown without any drapery ; and you 
 get used to it, so it does not offend. The 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. lOI 
 
 most sensuous pictures, often very piquant, 
 are to be seen in the streets. What really 
 offends me most is that even holy subjects 
 are made vulgar. I am far from being prud- 
 ish : I can stand and look at a frivolous 
 picture, but even in the sensuous there 
 ought to be some decorum. Some pieces 
 are played at the Vaudeville Theatre which 
 would never do in Copenhagen, except per- 
 haps in the Students' Club. ... I dare 
 almost say that innocence has scarcely a 
 domicile here in Paris ; she is certainly only 
 a voyageuse en route, and as such is easily 
 brought into a dangerous position. At least 
 her ears and eyes are poisoned, and then she 
 gets at all events a little damaged. This is 
 the dark side ; Paris has sunshine in all other 
 respects. Everybody's thoughts are free 
 and advanced, and intellectual development 
 has reached a high level. 
 
 I have had to write this letter to you at 
 short intervals, my dear friend, and it is 
 therefore much shorter than I wished. I am 
 feeling ill, but the best of it is that it is an 
 illness from which all strangers suffer, and is 
 
102 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 caused by the drinking water taken from the 
 river. Last night I fainted in my room, but 
 I came to without any assistance ; however, 
 it made me anxious. I went to bed ; 
 vomited the whole night and morning. 
 To-day I have been obHged to keep in- 
 doors, take pills and drink port wine, and 
 my stupid stomach has cost me two species 
 (9s.). At first I thought I had the cholera, 
 and felt very strange ; but I have the fixed 
 idea that I am going to die out here. I 
 commended myself to God, thought of all 
 of you at home, and submitted myself to 
 fate. They say that most people suffer 
 from drinking this hard water. I hope 
 that my sufferings will soon be over. 
 
 The Danes have visited me faithfully. 
 Sager tried to amuse me, and Schram and 
 Dinesen told me funny stories. Br6ndsted 
 wanted to send me his doctor, but it is so 
 expensive, and there is no danger. If I 
 could only sleep to-night ! I was in Ver- 
 sailles the other day. What splendour ! 
 How imposing ! Under the terraces there 
 are arcades, where the oranges are kept 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. IO3 
 
 during the winter ; the gates would be an 
 ornament for Copenhagen. Immense sums 
 of money are spent on the many grand 
 fountains. The little Trianon was of 
 greater interest to me than all : here 
 Napoleon lived, and here he parted from 
 Josephine. I was in his bedchamber ; 
 secretly I touched the steps to his bed 
 and the pillow. The soldiers pushed in 
 to see these relics, and stood there silent, 
 but there was enthusiasm in their eyes. 
 It made a great impression on me. 
 
 I have seen the French Queen in the 
 theatre, but not the King. Ycu can, 
 however, see caricatures of him every- 
 where, — here as a peer on horseback, 
 there as a juggler who performs with a 
 pistol^ etc. I have been in the Chamber 
 of Peers and that of the Deputies — the 
 former was the more interesting where old 
 Lafayette shines. 
 
 But now I cannot sit and write any more, 
 and Sager goes away to-morrow at six 
 o'clock ; therefore adieu ! Let me soon 
 have a letter. Remember me to your 
 
104 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 parents, your brother and sister, Miss 
 Snell, Otto, and Thyberg. Jette will soon 
 get a letter from me. Adieu! If I die, 
 then, let Edward print my " Recollec- 
 tions " (Memoirs). My last thought will 
 be with you. — Your faithful friend, 
 
 Andersen. 
 
 I wish that you and Edward were here ! 
 I should like to see you once more. 
 
 Andersen to Christian Voigt^ stud, theoL 
 
 Paris, 26th June 1833. 
 
 You think of me ! You alone of all of 
 them, faithful soul ! I have been away from 
 Denmark for two months ; but have not 
 received a single letter, excepting one, which 
 was waiting for me from Jette Wulfif. Think 
 what it is to be so far away in a foreign land 
 and forgotten by all you love ! Edward has 
 not sent me a word — no one, no one but you. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. IO5 
 
 It has pained my innermost soul ! You are, 
 at least, my faithful friend ! Long ago I 
 wrote to you from Paris, and you ought to 
 have received my letter before you posted 
 yours ; but it does not appear to have 
 reached you. I addressed it to Ludwig 
 Mliller, as I did not know your address. I 
 write to you at once, to thank you as a 
 brother ! Four times I have read your letter 
 through ; it was so dear, so interesting, so 
 loving, that all the bitterness I feel about 
 those at home, — whom I love, and who have 
 forgotten me, — now turns into sadness. In 
 nine days you will have this letter ; I shall 
 then seem to be with you, sitting on the 
 sofa behind the red curtains, talking openly 
 to each other, as in the olden days, before 
 so many clouds passed over my heart. I 
 am very much changed, all say so ; the 
 actors think I am rather paler, but more 
 of a gentleman. People are always polished 
 up a little in Paris, even in the bearing, — 
 and that was bad enough at home. I am 
 getting bolder and more determined, but 
 in my heart am surely still the same. 
 
Io6 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 How can I give you an idea of my life 
 here! Well, I will just tell you how a day 
 is passed. Last Sunday I walked about 
 in the streets the whole day. Let me 
 describe that day. You are now with me 
 high up in my large room ; the floor is of 
 flagstones, white curtains round the bed, 
 two chests of drawers, sofa, arm-chair, etc. 
 We are now going downstairs, but keep 
 hold of the bannisters, because every step 
 is of flagstone, and it is easy to slip. We 
 are down now, and the old porter says, 
 '' Bon jour'' and we get out from the hotel 
 into the Rue Vivienne. Shop after shop, 
 finery and pictures, sausages and meat in 
 festoons — there is business done in every 
 house in Paris. We are now entering a 
 *' passage," — that is to say, a street paved 
 with flagstones, and a roof of glass (just as 
 if Ostergade had a glass arch, and '' Peer- 
 madsens Gang " a floor and roof). The 
 shops are splendid ; all that one's heart 
 can desire is to be had here, even so low 
 down in the scale as the non-platonic love. 
 We now enter a street to get over into a 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. IO7 
 
 smaller passage, which leads to the Palais 
 Royal. It is a beautiful palace, with splen- 
 did shops in the colonnades. In the middle 
 of the court is a fountain, surrounded by 
 a garden which swarms with people. This 
 was my morning's walk to the cafe, 
 where I read the papers, and then wan- 
 dered through about fifty streets lined with 
 shops, equal to Copenhagen multiplied by 
 four. I stop at the Place de Bastille 
 where there is an enormous elephant, 
 which, however, is only a model for a 
 bigger one, which is to be erected in the 
 ^* July days." Hence I walked through 
 a new quarter — St. Antoine — where just 
 now several assaults have been committed 
 (two persons have been murdered and 
 thrown into the Seine). I am now on 
 the Pont d'Austerlitz, from whence I can- 
 not even see the end of the town. Then 
 I enter the Jardin des Plantes, where 
 there is a grand show of wild beasts — this 
 is free : there are lions, tigers, and bears 
 in the pits ; elephants are w^alking about ; 
 giraffes eating the tops of the trees — in 
 
I08 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 fact, a whole Noah's Ark. From there 
 I wander through a labyrinth of streets, 
 where the houses are standing packed one 
 against the other. Dirty boys lying on 
 the ground playing cards, rough men and 
 wild women are playing at ball. Victor 
 Hugo has given a masterly sketch of 
 them. At last I crossed the Seine to the 
 island, the real old Paris, and visited 
 Notre Dame, the most imposing building 
 I know, — many coloured glass windows, 
 high arches, and grand pictures. There 
 were certainly more than sixty priests from 
 eighteen to seventy years old, who behaved 
 in the most affected manner, and people 
 were running in and out. It is now two 
 o'clock ; I trot home, about as far as from 
 Vesterbro to Toldboden. Now for the 
 boidevard. . . . But I see that I shall 
 not have room to tell you of more 
 than half the day of my wanderings, and 
 what I have written will scarcely give 
 you any idea of the greatness of Paris, 
 its variety and interest. 
 
 I have been introduced at the '* Europe 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 109 
 
 Litteraire, " a sort of Athenaeum for bels 
 esprits. I had resolved not to visit Heine ; 
 but, as fate willed it, he was the first I 
 met with. He received me very graciously, 
 spoke very favourably about our litera- 
 ture, and said, openly before all, that 
 Oehlenschlager was undoubtedly the first 
 poet in Europe. I have been asked to 
 give a synopsis of our literature, especially 
 Oehlenschlager and the younger poets. 
 It is now being translated into French 
 and printed. But do not tell this to any- 
 body who talks about it. 
 
 Heine has visited me, or rather the 
 porter; I have not got his card; I will not 
 have anything to do with him. He is 
 indeed a man one should beware of. On 
 the 29th July the statue of Napoleon is 
 going to be erected ! What a festival ! I 
 shall witness an historical event. 
 
 I have decided to leave Paris on the loth 
 August, but do write before then. You can 
 ask Arnesen to pass the letter through Skuke 
 to the Foreign Department, then it costs no- 
 thing, and it is the usual thing to send letters 
 
no HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 in that way ; they thus come through the Em- 
 bassy. Let me have your address ; mine is 
 Hotel Vivienne, Rue Vivienne, No 14. There 
 are many of our countrymen here ; the one I 
 like best is Lieutenant Dinesen of the Ar- 
 tillery ; he is a brilliant fellow. Castenskjold 
 is very good-natured, and he takes care of all 
 my letters. 
 
 Just fancy, I have written twenty-one 
 to different people in Copenhagen (Collin 
 has got nine ail in all, you have now two, 
 Mrs. Laessoe one, and Ludwig Muller one). 
 And no reply whatever ! Still you are 
 true to me ! I never forget it. Hertz 
 has not left yet ; I suppose he wants 
 a larger Government grant. He got 
 four hundred species (about ^90) ; I 
 get three hundred species (about £^']) ; I 
 added one hundred species (over £2<S) to it 
 during the first year ; but I must have fifty 
 species (about £\o) more, and that will 
 scarcely last eleven months. 
 
 I have been very busy with my long 
 poem, " Agnete.'* Fancy, half of the first 
 part is done, and well done ! You will be 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. Ill 
 
 pleased that I have succeeded ; the Lord 
 will help me with the remainder. . This 
 work will close the mouths of many. 
 With God's help I shall be home in 
 December this year. — Your faithful friend, 
 
 Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to Mrs. Signe Laess'de. 
 
 LOCLE IN THE JURAS, 2>^ September 1833. 
 
 This day fourteen years ago I left 
 Odense and began the great '' fairy tale 
 of my life ; " now fourteen years after- 
 wards I am sitting in the Jura Moun- 
 tains, with a family of friends who have 
 invited me. They don't understand a 
 word of Danish, and the little children 
 shout at me, because they think I am 
 deaf, when I don't understand their for- 
 eign baby talk. A fire is blazing in the 
 stove, it is snowing outside, the clouds 
 are gathered over the forest ; but I 
 know that lower down the mountain I 
 
112 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 shall find summer and ripe grapes. I shall 
 soon again drink in the warm air beyond 
 the Alps. How much of beautiful nature 
 have I not seen since I left Paris ! From 
 the jura Mountains I had the first view 
 over the Alps. Our road lay close to the 
 deep abyss, where the clouds were drifting 
 below ; but suddenly we came to an open- 
 ing through the mountains, and far below 
 all was of a lovely, deep green, a land 
 such as you only see in your dreams. It 
 was Geneva, its lake as clear as the azure 
 heavens. There runs the Rhone, so blue 
 that the water almost seemed coloured. 
 The mountains stood high over the 
 horizon like waves of violet glass tipped 
 with creamy foam. 
 
 A couple of days afterwards I went by 
 steamer to Lausanne. I saw Mont Blanc 
 white as the Klint of M6en, but the Klint 
 is only a tear — Mont Blanc has wept. 
 
 Afterwards I went to Vevay, where Rous- 
 seau wrote his *'Heloise." The journey was 
 warm ; but for the first time it was like 
 the warmth of my own heart. The road to 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 1 1 3 
 
 Chillon and the old castle (you know it from 
 Byron's poem, ''The Prisoner of Chillon") 
 was like the path leading to Paradise : it 
 was very narrow, and wound its way be- 
 tween fields covered with vines. Pumpkins 
 and melons were growing around the cot- 
 tages. Even round a beam which supported 
 a fragile bridge there were melons. The 
 Lake of Geneva was so still. Grand old 
 chestnut trees were hanging over the water, 
 and the back-ground was a mountain reach- 
 ing to heaven, where the clouds were lying. 
 A mountain with ice and snow stood out 
 dazzling white in the clear air. It Is rather 
 distracting in Switzerland, but here among 
 the mountains it is so quiet. Grand and 
 gloomy pine forests surround me — a dead 
 solitude, which I have never known. It is 
 like midnight, although the sun is shining. 
 It has had a strange influence upon me : 
 I have been in a sort of ecstasy for some 
 days, and I have now finished " Agnete " — 
 I am satisfied. The end will please you 
 more than the beginning (which you know). 
 I don't know whether it is this ecstasy or 
 
114 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 the cold weather which has influenced me; 
 but I am strongly excited, there is fever 
 in my blood, and I cannot sleep. I am 
 leaving in about eight days. This letter 
 brings you my "Agnete." Pray accept in 
 a friendly spirit this Danish child which was 
 born on the border of France and Switzer- 
 land, in the midst of northern scenery, yet 
 on the confines of the flowery south. I 
 shall finish this letter when I leave Locle. 
 
 LOCLE, \2th September 1833. 
 
 The day after to-morrow I am going 
 over to Martigny, shall see Pissevache, 
 shall be at the foot of Mount Blanc, pass 
 Simplon to Lago Maggiore, and shall arrive 
 in Milan on the 23d September. I have 
 had a beautiful trip on the River Doubs ; 
 the cliffs on the right were in Switzerland, 
 on the left in France. The water was so 
 still that all the surroundings were as if 
 painted on its surface. A little farther 
 down there was a mill, and some falls of 
 about three feet ; but soon the water rushed 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. II5 
 
 twenty-eight feet over a cliff; it looked like 
 the whitest milk, from which uprose a clear 
 mist among the dark firs. I have sketched 
 it as well as I can ; what a pity that I 
 cannot draw ! But still my scribbles have 
 amused you before, and I therefore enclose 
 a leaf in my letter. The one represents 
 the Castle Chillon with the Lake of Geneva ; 
 the other is the poor and melancholy view 
 I have from my window here in Locle. A 
 little garden stretches before me, and be- 
 hind you see the mountain, entirely green, 
 and like a precipitous giant wall. There 
 ought to be some cattle, but I am a worse 
 animal painter than scene painter, so please 
 fill in what is wanting. I have been con- 
 templating this green mountain whilst my 
 thoughts were with " Agnete " in the 
 depths of the sea. Oh, how I am longing 
 to hear how people at home like her! 
 But she will, and must, be appreciated. In 
 " Maanedskriftet " I have been spoken of 
 as a poe^ who once promised something ! 
 This was said even after my '* Months " 
 had been published. Those words have 
 
Il6 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 rankled like poison in my heart ; may 
 " Agnete " only get praise and sunshine 
 enough to disperse what Is killing me. I 
 hope she may be grammatical enough ! 
 Let that be as it may. I did not have 
 Else the schoolmistress in my thoughts, 
 but only Aphrodite, when I raised my 
 •'Agnete" from the waves. 
 
 In this house two old sisters are living ; 
 you don't know how they are petting me : 
 they embroider my stockings, darn the holes 
 from Paris, and treat me to flowers and jam ! 
 They are the sisters of Urban Jiirgensen's 
 widow, whom they have not seen for twenty- 
 five years ; they smile so sadly when I men- 
 tion Denmark. The sympathy and kind at- 
 tentions I receive everywhere astonish and 
 touch me ; friends grow up round me, 
 not only in Denmark, but even among the 
 mountains. God knows what good there 
 can be in me ! Here it is impossible to gain 
 people by my poems. They do not under- 
 stand a word. Dorn^nage ! What a pity ! 
 But now adieu ! In Rome I expect a letter 
 from you. Have you got two pictures from 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. II7 
 
 Paris ? Remember me to DIna and the 
 sons.— Yours, 
 
 H. C. Andersen, 
 
 Andersen to Mrs. Signe Laessoe, 
 
 Naples, i8th March 1834. 
 
 On my last night in Naples I must con- 
 verse with my dear motherly friend. My 
 heart is so full of all the grandeur I have 
 seen, and which to-morrow I leave for 
 ever. 
 
 I have heard the world-renowned Madame 
 Malibran in three operas. This I class 
 among my most sublime Impressions in the 
 world of art. Hers Is not one of those 
 brilliant voices that startle you, but rather 
 a soul full of melody, which to my mind is 
 of far greater worth. It seemed to me as 
 though I heard a swan, now soaring with 
 beating wings to the lofty heavens, now 
 
 U 
 
Il8 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 diving into the depths of the sea, cleaving 
 the hollow breakers, while the blood from 
 its bursting heart gushed forth into song. 
 My great delight lay in the splendid col- 
 lection in the museum, carrying one far 
 back to distant ages. I have rested on a 
 divan from Pompeii, the leather of which 
 was still entire. You wrote me once that I 
 would not now be indifferent at home to a 
 ruin or coin ; in most cases I think I shall 
 be still more so than before. I have now 
 seen more ancient and more beautiful 
 things. 
 
 So to-morrow I travel towards the north. 
 A strange, sorrowful feeling possesses me ! 
 I leave Paradise here, while it is still, in a 
 measure, in the bud, and shall not see it in 
 its summer dress, nor go to Sicily. North- 
 ward, northward, there, where my dear ones 
 live in snow and fog, lies the iron ring to 
 be fastened to my foot. 
 
 Yes, yes, Denmark is a poor country ! 
 Italy's cornucopia is filled with fruit and 
 flowers, while we have only grass and a 
 sloe-hedge. I will now step out on to my 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 1 19 
 
 balcony, and will describe what I see at this 
 moment. 
 
 On the house opposite is a hanging 
 garden, the trees are bending with oranges 
 in the silver moonlight. Under my window 
 four pots are boiling with soup ds\<^ frittura ; 
 a half-naked lazzarone is eating fried figs. 
 The little children have decorated them- 
 selves with orange-peel and green leaves. 
 
 Now serenades are being sung, and 
 Vesuvius lights up my neighbour's wall. 
 But no, you cannot fully comprehend it ; 
 would that you were here ! To-morrow 
 begins the four days' journey to Rome. You 
 heard, from my last letter to Jette Wulff, 
 about the carnival there. You should your- 
 self have seen the streets transformed to a 
 masquerade : the air was full of confetti^ and 
 especially on Moccli evening, when millions 
 of lights, on sticks and in small balloons, 
 floated in the air. But you know the fete, 
 therefore no more ! 
 
 I will continue this letter in Rome. I 
 hope to give you a better description of the 
 Easter than 1 have done of Naples and 
 
120 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 neighbourhood ; It Is Impossible to describe 
 the really superb where everything dazzles 
 you. 
 
 God bless you, and if It Is as late when 
 you read this as it is now when I lay 
 down my pen, then sleep well. When I 
 awake to-morrow all I have seen and felt 
 here will be a dream. Even to-night I 
 have seen Vesuvius vomit fire, and lava 
 running in serpent-like streams down to the 
 foot of the mountain. Oh, how hard it 
 is to go towards the north ! Sleep well ! 
 
 Florence, S/A April. 
 
 I AM now so much nearer to Denmark. 
 I would have continued this letter in 
 Rome, but there was so much to do that 
 even my diary was hurried over, so I 
 have postponed it until my arrival in 
 Florence. 
 
 We will now pick up the thread where 
 we left it, at Naples. Tt suddenly became 
 quite wintry on the morning I left Naples. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 121 
 
 Vesuvius was white with snow, and the 
 wind blew abominably. I had just had 
 my hair cut, and the wind forced itself 
 through the open pores, so that I really 
 suffered. But when I arrived at the 
 lovely Molo di Gaeta, where the oranges 
 had been gathered, but the citrons were 
 all the richer, it was again summer ; and 
 the last morning in Terracina was so 
 clear that I distinctly saw Vesuvius, which, 
 as a farewell greeting, threw up fire and 
 smoke against the sky. It seemed to me 
 that he regretted the cold farewell he had 
 given me before, and now from afar sent 
 me a real hearty God-speed ! 
 
 Marvellous luck seems to follow me on 
 my journey, — I manage to see all that is 
 most interesting. The Royal family from 
 Naples have arrived in Rome, probably 
 to speak in favour of the Spanish Queen. 
 On that account the fete was most mag- 
 nificent, and there were fireworks at Eng- 
 elburg, — an event which has not happened 
 for years. Would that you had been 
 with me on Easter morning at the grand 
 
122 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 Church of St. Peter, which seemed to swell 
 with the immense multitude of people, 
 and that you had heard the trumpets ring 
 out from the arches as the relics were 
 shown, and seen the people kneeling in 
 the immense building as the Pope pro- 
 nounced the benediction ! You would have 
 felt as I did. For sensuous beings a 
 sensuous worship of God is necessary. 
 The wonderful, profound silence which 
 reigned taught me that much may be 
 contained even in nothing, for surely 
 silence is nothing. But what, on the 
 contrary, shocked me was the baptism 
 of the Jew. The second day of Easter 
 is always celebrated by the baptism of a 
 Turk or a Jew ; this time they had only 
 been able to procure an ugly little boy 
 with a scurvy head, who looked awful as 
 the water was sprinkled over him. His 
 boots and stockings were dirty, but over 
 all the dirt was a glittering white silk 
 robe given by the church. Now the 
 cardinals and priests went in procession, 
 there was singing and waving of incense, 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 1 23 
 
 the skulls of Saints Peter and Paul were 
 exhibited, and all that for this wretched 
 little Jew. On the morning of the first 
 day of Easter the whole of the Church 
 of St. Peter was illuminated. The lights 
 were so arranged in the building as to 
 define the outline of the whole church in 
 the clear atmosphere. After having burned 
 for an hour, the whole scene changed In 
 a moment. Every light became a burning 
 torch, and all done by the hands of man. 
 Several hundreds were awaiting the signal 
 to create in a second this glittering temple 
 of God. 
 
 The second day of Easter, the last day 
 I was in Rome, Thorwaldsen^ paid me a 
 visit, and I went to see his new and ad- 
 mirable work in bas-relief, ''Nemesis," 
 which may be considered among the most 
 beautiful of his productions. He seemed 
 somewhat poorly. He wrote some kind 
 words in my diary, embraced me, and gave 
 me a fatherly kiss, begging me to continue 11 
 
 ^ Thorwaldsen (Bertel), Danish sculptor, bom 1770, diecj 
 1844. 
 
124 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 as I had begun, and to remember that 
 the artist is the best judge of his own 
 work if not led away by passion. The 
 other artists gave me some pretty sketches: 
 for instance, Bissen gave me " Valburg 
 Hanging the Wreath on the Pillar," and say- 
 ing, " I greet thee, my love, good morning"; 
 Blunk, "A Beggar Girl"; Koop, "An 
 Ydunna with the Apples," who says that 
 they are not sour; but that is nonsense. I 
 feel that the apple of immortality is a sour 
 apple to bite. Petzholdt gave me a 
 beautiful sketch in oil, "A Storm by Ostia"; 
 Kuchler gave me my portrait. But it 
 will be too tedious to mention all; you will, 
 of course, see them. 
 
 This last night in Rome we had 
 ** Girandolay They were the first fire-works 
 I had seen, although I was in Paris at 
 the fete of July. Fire-fish played in the 
 air, Vesuvius spurted fire, cascades of fire 
 were streaming down. It was very mag- 
 nificent! In the inn, where the Danes met, 
 my health was drunk, and a very jolly 
 God-speed was sung. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 125 
 
 On the first of April I left Rome, and 
 my journey to this place occupied five 
 days. I chose the dreary road over Sienna 
 in order to see it ; but as we encountered 
 storms and wintry weather in the moun- 
 tains, and as I had no thick garments, not 
 having experienced any winter since I left 
 home, I was nearly frozen. The weather 
 was so severe, that it was commented upon 
 in the newspapers. A waggon was blown 
 over in the mountains where we were. 
 
 I will copy some notes from my diary 
 about the journey, how I fared on my 
 birthday, where I w^as, and how I was. It 
 was the second day of the journey from 
 Rome; I stayed in a small town, — Roncig- 
 lione, — and was awakened at four o'clock. 
 CofTee I could get, but milk, — cream we 
 dared not mention, — was not to be obtained, 
 and they had no bread. So I drank the 
 poor coffee ; and, as I reflected thereon, I 
 remembered it was the 2d of April, and 
 I congratulated myself. I sat on the front 
 seat of the coach, and had for a neighbour 
 a very stupid priest, who had never heard 
 
126 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 of Germany. So I was obliged to speak 
 some sort of Italian, and as he remarked it 
 was not like his, and heard I came from 
 the north, he asked me if I was not a 
 Milanese. As we drove on the storm in- 
 creased; there was snow on the mountains, 
 and I was chilled to the very bones. After 
 passing Viterbo, the country becomes 
 more and more barren. The forest along 
 the road had been burnt on account of the 
 brigands, and only the charred, black trunks 
 remained. It was very desolate and wild. 
 By mid-day we reached Montefiascone, 
 celebrated, as you know, by Tugger, who 
 drank himself to death in Est. est^ est ! 
 I had made up my mind to drink the health 
 of my friends in this wine, but there was 
 none to be had in the town. We arrived 
 at a mean little inn, where the hostess 
 gave me some water with salt and cheese, 
 which she called soup : it roused my anger 
 when she demanded a price ten times 
 higher than that of good soup. 
 
 All my travelling companions were Italians. 
 Inside the coach was a Signor Piereboni, 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 12/ 
 
 with his wife and father-in-law, and as they 
 saw I was cold, they made room for me, 
 so that for the remainder of the day I 
 had a cosy seat, while the wind shook 
 the coach. 
 
 By the Lake of Bolsena it was romantically 
 beautiful, with large caverns stretching away 
 in darkness. Upon my observing that this 
 was a Caserma di Briganti, the signora 
 in the coach screamed out, " Oh, Madonna 
 mia ! " She was very nervous about brig- 
 ands, and as we progressed only slowly in 
 the wretched weather, it soon became dark 
 and very insecure. Strangely enough, I 
 was perfectly cool, and have, on my whole 
 journey from Rome to Naples, and now 
 back again, felt quite safe — yes, even safer 
 than in Denmark, although my countrymen 
 in Rome have predicted that, as I was 
 born under a star to experience all that 
 is remarkable in Italy, I should also en- 
 counter brigands. I am not yet out of it. 
 Perhaps they may stab me to death, but 
 then I shall die in Italy and not return 
 home, where much sorrow, much mischief. 
 
128 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 many trials — more than human heart can 
 bear— are awaiting me. But enough of 
 this. 
 
 We reached Aquapendente late in the 
 evening, where some pretty, amiable girls 
 received us at the hotel, made a livelv fire 
 in the stove, and sold us some Est, est, est 
 (a delicious Muscatel wine), in which I drank 
 the health of my friends, and touched 
 glasses with the strangers. I taught the 
 signora some Danish words, among them 
 '' Lysesax,'' which she pronounced so naively 
 with a ** u " that I dare not write it, but 
 she found the sound melodious. That was 
 one day. On Saturday afternoon I arrived 
 in Florence, and am now residing at the 
 ** Leone Bianco." As soon as the post- 
 office opened yesterday I enquired for letters 
 from home, and received one from you, 
 Collin, and Oersted, so I was made very 
 happy, and devoured them all three under 
 the statue of the old duke in the Piazza del 
 Granduca. Since then I have studied them 
 over again, and now I will talk to you 
 about some of your observations 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. I 2 9 
 
 You beg of me to forget all about 
 "grumbling" when I return home. That 
 I dare not promise, but I will do it in a 
 new way. You can believe me that all I 
 am longing for at home is to chat with you 
 and a few others, to talk of all the glorious 
 things I have seen ; yes, I really do believe 
 that you, through me., will get some idea 
 of Italy. 
 
 Oh that I were at home for a week ! I 
 often feel so much of human nature that I 
 am sorry Jette Wulff will be away when 
 I arrive, and yet I am glad, because she 
 will see my beloved Italy. The criticism 
 1 spoke of does not concern '' Agnete," 
 but is one about me generally as a poet, 
 which appeared in the monthly magazine, 
 written by Molbech. Now I am more 
 tranquil. The man is mad, people quote 
 authorities, and I am a fool to fret. 
 " Agnete " will in time attain honour and 
 glory — that I predict. But write any more ? 
 No, no, I have written nothing here, they 
 have broken the pinions of the bird. 
 You say that I might get a living ; would 
 
IjO HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 that it were so. But there are many 
 dogs after that bone. I would then bury 
 the poet they have murdered. God gave 
 me the spiritual diploma of nobility, which 
 they have torn asunder. I am a poet, but 
 I can give up my nobility and vanish into 
 the crowd. It is not in a dark moment 
 I write this — I am quite calm, as happy 
 as I can be, and my only wish is never 
 to produce any new work. My delight, 
 my courage, my whole soul hung by only 
 one thread, and that my friend has cut. 
 The operation is performed, the patient is 
 well. Oh, God ! my dear mother ! I might 
 have been so unspeakably happy. But 
 away — away with the remembrances of all 
 such things. 
 
 You seemed surprised at my rapture over 
 Nature in Italy — the grandeur of Naples — 
 which you will not understand. But reflect, 
 there is bliss in breathing the very air. 
 The sea is more beautiful than our winter 
 sky. Vesuvius is a flaming ygdrasil, and 
 the blue grottoes are heavenly. 
 
 iBj^e people here are blessed children who 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. I3I 
 
 Still believe in the devil, in -life, in the dead 
 pictures, and spend their days in joy. You 
 ought to see the beautiful people, hear them 
 sing, and see the islands float like clouds in 
 the rosy mist ! Oh, God ! I am grieved to 
 think that all is over. You talk about me 
 falling in love again, when I arrive home, 
 etc. God in Heaven ! you know well how 
 ugly I am, and how poor I shall always 
 be, and these are things everybody con- 
 siders, whomsoever the heart may choose, 
 and very properly too. 
 
 Were you at the exhibition on my 
 birthday ? Believe me, I thought of you. 
 Christian has now passed his Philologicum, 
 I congratulate you. Remember me kindly 
 to him and Ludvig. I have a coin for the 
 latter which nobody can make out ; it is 
 from Paestum, and another one from the 
 Amphitheatre at Capua, but as this dates 
 from the time of Trajanus, I suppose it is 
 of no great value to him. I am longing to 
 have a chat with Frederick, and to tease 
 Dina. 
 
 Give my love to Joseph and Viggo, and 
 
132 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 tell Thorald thsit if he desires it, I will 
 bring some Italian air, well-corked down, 
 SO that he may taste and perhaps paint it. 
 You wish me to make many sketches ! 
 Yes, since I went to Rome for the first 
 time, and was there praised — for praise I 
 must have if I am to succeed — for my 
 sketches, I have been drawing on all occa- 
 sions, so much so that Hertz has been 
 teasing me, and has caricatured my ardour 
 by writing some lines in my album, with a 
 sketch of Vesuvius (it is certainly not like 
 it): the joke is very clever. But now I 
 must say something about Florence. 
 
 Here it is burning summer, everything 
 is in full leaf, and the river Arno is nearly 
 dry. The galleries seem to me like old 
 sights since my last visit. Venus breathes 
 and lives, and Niobe stands like the cold 
 picture of despair, and will protect her 
 children. I fain would encounter some- 
 thing quite new ; it seems to me as if 1 had 
 beheld all the grandeur of the world, and 
 only repetitions are awaiting me. What 
 a pecuj^JT being I am ! Oersted says that 
 
CORRESPONDENCE, 1 3 3 
 
 his and my aesthetic religion are widely 
 different : I seek all the discords of the 
 world, while he insists upon it that the 
 poet must seek the harmonies ; but I 
 believe I am myself the discord in this 
 world. Too many bitter tears have fallen 
 on the chords of my love to produce har- 
 mony, neither shall I attain that at which 
 I aimed. You may not understand me, 
 but I dare not speak plainer. 
 
 In eight days I leave Florence to pro- 
 ceed to Venice via Bologna, where I shall 
 behold the sea for the last time in the 
 south ; but I am afraid it will not compare 
 with the Mediterranean at Naples. About 
 the first of May I shall pass Padua, and 
 go to Verona to see the Amphitheatre and 
 the grave of Romeo and Juliet. Then I 
 bid farewell to Italy, which, as you say, is 
 four hundred years behind the times, but 
 in many respects an eternity in advance. 
 
 Here the heart might dream, were it 
 not for the chilly storms coming from the 
 north. Here the sea is God's Heaven, 
 the clouds are phantasies in colours, the 
 
134 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 air is nectar for the gods, the earth 
 seethes with grapes, pictures smile from 
 the walls of the houses. This is the home 
 of phantasy, the north that of reason ; but as 
 I am a visionary I feel most at home in 
 my real country. I fear greatly going to 
 Copenhagen, I can foresee all, and know 
 how I shall bear it. I am no longer the child 
 as before. But what once is written must 
 be fulfilled, — I must meet my fate. God 
 knows if it would not be a happier existence 
 to be a simple man, — a good tailor or shoe- 
 maker, who sits in his workshop, eats his 
 meals, takes a holiday once a year, and at 
 last retires to the graveyard. 
 
 But now good-bye. Remember me to 
 the Ipsens and those of my friends you 
 may meet. I am very well, very happy, 
 and — am going to Copenhagen ! 
 
 At Munich where I am due in the middle 
 of May, I hope, without fail, to receive a 
 letter poste restante ; it must not be paid 
 for farther than Hamburg, then it will be 
 safer. Do not fail, you have no idea how 
 much good it will do me. When once I 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 1 35 
 
 am at home I hope you will be satisfied 
 with me, and you shall never see the old 
 sorrowful face. I am very happy, and mean 
 to be so. Good-bye, good-bye. With the 
 feelings of a son. — Yours, 
 
 Andersen. 
 
 Herewith an anemone gathered from 
 the grave of Virgil at Naples. 
 
 Andersen to Miss Henrietta Wulff. 
 
 (Rain, slush, and fog.) 
 
 1 6th March 1835. 
 
 My Dear Tender- Hearted Sister Jette, 
 — You will see by the date that this letter 
 is ^vritten in our dear fatherland, and in 
 Copenhagen. For five months I believe 
 we have not seen a clear atmosphere : I 
 hardly know what blue is like, only it 
 happens to be the colour of my overcoat. 
 Drink in long and deep draughts of the 
 air out there, that you may be fortified 
 when it is your fate to return, 
 
136 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDKRSEN's 
 
 I thank you for your dear but rather 
 short note. You know I am long and big 
 — I want more food — but it may come ; 
 therefore I write to-day this long epistle, 
 in reality the first I have written you since 
 my return here. I know not the reason, 
 but it certainly must be in the air ; it 
 puts a dampness on everything, and as I 
 have now used up all the Italian air and 
 fire 1 brought home with me in poetical 
 work, my friends are neglected. 
 
 But do you know what work I have done ? 
 — written a novel, " The Improvisatore," 
 in two parts, in all about thirty sheets, 
 and a little drama in two acts, " Liden 
 Kirsten," which is accepted for performance 
 next month (the music arranged by Bredal), 
 and also some fairy tales for children, of 
 which Oersted says, that if " The Im- 
 provisatore " gets me renown, " the fairy tales 
 will bring immortality," as they are the most 
 finished I have ever written. But I do not 
 think so. He does not know Italy, and 
 so cannot rejoice at the familiar air the 
 nQvel spreads around me. I know that you 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. I 3 7 
 
 in cold Denmark will love my ^' Improvis- 
 atore," and exclaim with all who have been 
 in Italy, — ■" Yes, there Andersen has been at 
 home." It is hard, though, to have to live 
 so far from one's real home, but I shall 
 return to Italy almost for certain in about 
 four years' time. My first five-act drama 
 will pay the expenses of my journey. 
 
 Weyse is finishing *' Kenilworth," and 
 Hartmann is ready with " The Corsair," 
 by Hertz ; it will be performed within a 
 week. Of Hertz you hear nothing, he writes 
 in seclusion. Our celebrated countryman, 
 Paludan-Mueller, whose genius is, as your 
 mother says, universal, has given us a 
 new poem, " Zuleimas - Flugt " — delicious 
 verse. I consider it one of his most 
 poetical works, but yet a failure. It does not 
 meet with general favour. 
 
 Just now a novel, '' Min Broders-Levnet," 
 is being much read and talked about ; it is 
 brilliantly written, interesting, but very loose 
 morally ; all the women characters are very 
 reprehensible. One does not learn to admire 
 the author or the circle in which he has 
 
138 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 lived. This is Carl Bagger. I do not 
 wish my countrymen in Rome to know 
 exactly my opinion, as Bagger is engaged to 
 a Miss Fiedler, whose brother is, or soon 
 will be, in Rome. He is a friend of mine, 
 and I beg you to give him my kindest 
 greeting. 
 
 We are flooded with literature of the ordi- 
 nary sort. A new novel, called " Gordon," 
 will run in eighteen numbers of the '' Flyve- 
 post." The author is quite new and anony- 
 mous ; but I am one of the few in the secret. 
 Oehlenschlager has written a new tragedy, 
 "Socrates." I suppose you know I have 
 seen his *' Robbers in Terracina." It was 
 hissed — only what it deserves ; it is wretched 
 stuff. To judge by that, he has never been 
 in Italy, and was never a poet, and both are 
 indisputable truths. The description he 
 gives of Italy is only the shady side, — bad 
 food, wooden chairs, heat, and God knows 
 what — the awful brigands ! Why, there are 
 no more there than in England. 
 
 On the King's birthday we saw a drama 
 by Hoist ; it was bad, and it was hissed. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 1 39 
 
 After that, a pretty little piece by Heiberg, 
 -Alferne," after Tieck's '^ Die Elfen." It 
 is the best I know of Heiberg's poetry. Now 
 you know that on a birthday performance 
 the public does not express its opinion, 
 and thus people get mixed in their judg- 
 ment. The Court liked the first, and con- 
 demned the last as only fit for a theatre 
 at Vesterbro. That was the opinion for 
 the moment. I declared at once the first 
 piece to be rubbish, and the second a master- 
 piece ; and I said both to high and to low, 
 **The fault lies with the nation, it has no 
 imagination, and cannot understand fairy- 
 land." It was thought daring of me, but 
 Oehlenschlager said the same, and I re- 
 peated it to several students. Three days 
 afterwards the whole city said: ''Hoist's is 
 bad, but Heiberg's is wonderfully beauti- 
 ful." 
 
 I could mention many who thus altered 
 their opinion, but as we know them too well 
 we will say no more about it. 
 
 I have made a new acquaintance. One 
 day a servant came from an old lady, Miss 
 
140 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEn's 
 
 Btigel, with an invitation ; I said It must 
 be a mistake, but the servant came back 
 again, so I accepted the invitation. The 
 old lady overwhelmed me with kindness. 
 God knows how long it will last ; it is 
 only a mood. Lately she made me a 
 present of a pretty French dressing-gown, 
 with red roses and a silk belt ; then she 
 sent an Italian fogliette with sweet wine, 
 first one and then another. On my last 
 invitation the servant was sent to ask me 
 what were my favourite dishes, and when 
 I replied I was unwell, she sent me a 
 powder. Now everybody says I am going 
 to marry her ; it is a very good partly but 
 I cannot accept It. I should then have too 
 many step-children. 
 
 From the papers I suppose you have 
 heard of David's case, of the petitions, 
 and the King's answer.'^ The mother tells 
 me not to write anything to you about it, 
 so I will not. When you return you will 
 hear people talk ; they seem to think you 
 have been away ten years. 
 
 Apropos, Miss Btigel asked me to send 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. I4I 
 
 her regards to Thorwaldsen, she knew him 
 in Rome. I add my own greeting to hers. 
 I hope he has not forgotten me. 
 
 On March 8th we had a Roman feast, 
 at *' Borgerdyden," Christianshavn, where all 
 who had been in Italy met. It was exactly 
 like a Roman inn. We had Roman lamps 
 on the table, and the room was decorated 
 with views from Rome ; a wreath was 
 hung around Thorwaldsen's portrait, and 
 we had ivy crowns on our heads ; pity 
 they were made of stuff. There I met 
 the youngest Roman, Moldenhawer, and 
 heard of you. There were several tedious 
 guests, or rather people, I did not care 
 about. When the health of Thorwaldsen 
 was proposed, a song of my composition 
 was sung. 
 
 You cannot imagine how I am longing 
 for Italy! The fresh air, the rich colours, 
 the whole luxuriant nature, the picture 
 galleries, the songs of the beautiful people. 
 Have I not shouted like a child in the 
 orange gardens of Molo di Gaeta, and 
 devoutly believed with the Catholics in 
 
142 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEn's 
 
 miracles, when I saw the Grotta Azurra 
 at Capri, the most lovely Italy possesses. 
 In my dreams I am often again by the 
 melancholy Lake of Nemi, where the 
 ancient planes grow, where the rich and 
 fruitful vine winds itself among the 
 branches. Often my thoughts wander to 
 the beautiful goddess in Florence, — the 
 Venus di Medici. The artist has so 
 shaped her eye that she sees — -the marble 
 has looked into my soul. Still do I hear 
 the song of Malibran, it was a heart dis- 
 solved in melody ; I hear the singers in 
 the Sistine Chapel, it sounds like angels 
 weeping in melting harmony. 
 
 Oh ! dear Jette, how empty and cold 
 it is here, in our north. Italy is my home ! 
 I would live at Naples, where the moun- 
 tain burns, where the sea is blue as our 
 winter sky, where the balmy air is wafted 
 from the home of the palms and orange 
 groves. Now I have the willow for the 
 olive, I have the yellow apples in the 
 peasant's garden for the yellow oranges, 
 the green Baltic for the blue Mediter- 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 1 43 
 
 ranean, Zrza for Malibran, — that Is the 
 best we have ! My stay in Italy was 
 spoilt by my friends at home. Would I 
 could do my journey over again, then I 
 would revel In delight as the bee sucks 
 honey from every flower ! But I shall 
 certainly go there again, and If I die, I 
 shall haunt Italy, the great Colosseum, 
 the Vatican, and Capri, that paradise on 
 earth ! 
 
 In my new novel you will see the blue 
 grotto described. Professor Kruse, who 
 Is already working on the translation of 
 my book, says that I am the greatest 
 painter ; and Oersted says I ought to use 
 the brush Instead of the pen. But now 
 about other things. 
 
 You know Lottie Phlster Is dead ; what 
 a rare, short, fluttering life ! Ingeborg 
 Drewsen has had the small-pox for seven 
 weeks. The doctor had given her up; she 
 has suffered much. Thank God she lives. 
 She sends her love. All who visit her 
 now have been vaccinated for fear of con- 
 tagion. I alone have not; I fear neither 
 
144 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 contagion nor death. I feel no joy in 
 anything, neither do I feel any grief. 
 Believe me I am perfectly calm. 
 
 Your brother Christian is a pearl. I love 
 him from my heart ; tell him that from me. 
 Many hearty greetings from Mrs. Laessoe, 
 and Liidwig MHller. Collin, and several 
 mutual friends. 
 
 As T am writing this, I receive a letter 
 from the translator of my novel, in which 
 he says the publishers want a different 
 title for the German edition from the 
 Danish " Improvisatore." Can you suggest 
 one? Which is the better, "The Boy from 
 the Roman Campagna," or " The Blue 
 Grotto of Capri " ? One of these I suppose 
 it will be. 
 
 Bid Bodtcher keep his promise to write 
 to me. Or am I already forgotten in his 
 heart? Best regards to Kuchler, Petzholdt, 
 and the other countrymen, especially your 
 brother. — From your poet-brother. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 Herewith a leaf from your own garden. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 1 45 
 
 Andersen to Cojint Rantzozv-Breitenburg. 
 
 Copenhagen, December 1837. 
 
 Your Excellency has been so kindly 
 sympathetic towards me, and has evinced 
 so much interest in my welfare, that 
 my deepest gratitude has been awakened. 
 I feel the need of approaching you, for, 
 as I have already told you, I require 
 your interest and assistance, which makes 
 the distance between us doubly great. 
 May a happier turning point occur in 
 my life ! Although you have given me 
 permission to write you, you will excuse 
 me for addressing you on this subject ; 
 it would certainly be more suitable by 
 word of mouth ; but this is impossible, 
 and you will therefore pardon me. Just 
 now I feel greatly encouraged, as I am 
 getting much better known in foreign 
 countries than I had ventured to hope. 
 A French translation of the '' Impro- 
 
 L 
 
146 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 visatore" is being done in Paris, and will 
 appear at the beginning of next year. 
 This is a great honour for me, and I am 
 thankful to God for it. The world's re- 
 cognition of my talent at once awakens 
 in my heart the deepest gratitude ; at the 
 same time I am tortured by misgivings 
 lest I should not be able to accomplish 
 something greater, or even to make steady 
 progress. I feel the power of youth in 
 me, and can produce something better 
 than I have yet done ; but my school is 
 life. I must rove about in it. It is neces- 
 sary for me to travel again ; but this I 
 cannot do yet. In the pages of " Litera- 
 ture and Amusement " they wrote that it 
 was praiseworthy and truly kinglike of 
 Frederick VI. to enable men of talent 
 to travel, and they flatteringly added that 
 I had shown the fruits of such travelling. 
 A new trip would, ] believe, do still more 
 for me, but this I dare not hope for. 
 
 The King is not acquainted with me, 
 and has no idea of the nature of my work. 
 Treasures also lie in books j I need a 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 1 47 
 
 certain quietude to produce more, to 
 enable me to gain fresh strength to do 
 honour to myself and my native land ; 
 but T am obliged to write to live. You 
 know that we have already talked about 
 it together, and you were sympathetic 
 enough to lead the conversation to it. I 
 feel that you can be of great help to me, 
 but I shall fall to the ground if nothing 
 is done. I should be safe if I had four 
 hundred ryksdaler^ yearly, till I have 
 made a way for myself. I am convinced 
 that the King would grant me this if he 
 knew me, — if he rightly understood me as 
 •you do. My friends have told me that I 
 should seize this opportunity ; my need of 
 assistance is indeed pressing. The poet, 
 Professor Hauch of Soroe, has written a 
 petition for me, and begged me to copy 
 it and send it to the King ; but it is im- 
 possible ; I cannot describe my impecunious 
 position to the King, and how should he 
 know that I deserved his favour ? Another 
 must tell him, and the only one I know, 
 1 Danish thaler = 4s. 6d, 
 
148 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 and In whose heart and tact I feel con- 
 fidence, is yourself. The happiness of my 
 whole life, and my future activity, I leave 
 in your hands. Say to the King just 
 what I know you have so kindly said 
 about me to others. Do not refuse this 
 request ! Believe that there is some worth 
 in me, and espouse my cause. I will not 
 trouble you in this way again. You shall 
 be honoured by me with God's help. I 
 cannot present my petition to the King 
 and tell him who I am ; and of what use 
 would it be ? Nay, may T give it to you ? 
 If you will see that it reaches the King's 
 hands, and put in a good word for me, 
 you will indeed have helped me. Do 
 not refuse me. A refusal, however 
 pleasantly worded, would destroy every 
 hope in this direction. I should then be 
 able to do nothing more, and my work 
 would be at an end. I know how much 
 I ask of you, but my life's happiness is 
 at stake. Lay my petition before the 
 King, and with God's help you shall never 
 be ashamed of me ! With anxiety and 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 1 49 
 
 disquietude I await your reply as to 
 whether I may send you the petition ! 
 The dear God has always been merci- 
 ful to me, — what was best for me has 
 invariably happened. He may perhaps 
 appeal to your heart better than I can. 
 — Faithfully yours, 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Cast el li^ to Andersen. 
 
 Vienna, ph August 1838. 
 
 My Very Worthy Friend, — I avail my- 
 self of the opportunity of Busch returning 
 to his native land to send you my sincere 
 thanks for your last work, •* A Fiddler," 
 which was sent me. It does me good to 
 see that you still remember me some- 
 times. You are constantly in my thoughts, 
 
 ^ Castelli (Ignace Frederick), Austrian poet, born 6th 
 May 1 781, in Vienna. He was the author of many aperas 
 and dramatic plays, and died 5th February 1862. 
 
150 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 and the fairy tale of the heart's-ease 
 always occurs to me whenever I see that 
 little flower in bloom in my garden. 
 
 '' The Fiddler " is really a compilation 
 of incidents from your own life. It In- 
 terested me greatly, as well as your 
 additional short biography. The poor 
 Danish boy has become an able man. 
 Good luck, dear friend ! Go forward un- 
 dauntedly, the goal can neither be stalked, 
 bought, nor begged, but it can be vic- 
 toriously conquered, — conquered through 
 fighting ; you are the man to do it, and 
 your works have already made their way 
 in Germany. Only a few days ago Grlll- 
 parzer told me that your last novel had 
 pleased him very much, and expressed a 
 wish to read your '' Fiddler," which I 
 have now lent him. In it, among some 
 rather mysterious additions, you have 
 thought kindly of me, for which I am 
 grateful to you. If you have any fresh 
 poems, or perhaps a short story of a few 
 pages, send It to me for my almanack, 
 *' Huldlgung der Frauen." By so doing 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. I 5 1 
 
 you will oblige me and my readers very 
 much. 
 
 Farewell, my respected friend, whose 
 heart is attuned to mine. May poetry 
 and life alike become easy to you, and 
 may you sometimes think of — Your true 
 
 and warm friend, 
 
 Castelli. 
 
 My little garden sends greetings. 
 
 Robei^ Schtimann to Andersen. 
 
 Leipzig, ist October 1842. 
 
 Honoured Sir, — What must you think 
 of me for leaving your friendly note, 
 which gave me so much pleasure, so long 
 unanswered 1 But I did not wish to come 
 before you with quite empty hands, al- 
 though I know very well that I am only 
 making a return for what first came from 
 you. Please accept my music in place of 
 your poem. It may appear weird to you 
 
152 HANS c. Andersen's correspondence. 
 
 at the outset. Your poems were equally 
 strange to me at first. But as I entered 
 more into the soul of your verse, my 
 music also assumed a more and more 
 strange character. Therefore the fault is 
 yours alone. Andersenian poems must 
 be composed differently to " Bloom, sweet 
 Violet," etc. 
 
 In " Spielman," I fear there is an error. 
 Chamisso^ has not translated your verse 
 quite correctly. I have marked the place 
 on page sixteen. To a Danish musician — 
 perhaps Herr Hartmann — it would be an 
 easy task to put it right. Perhaps you 
 will ask him about it, and I will make 
 the correction. 
 
 My wife has told me so much about you, 
 and I have been so eager for the most 
 
 1 Chamisso (Aldalbert von), French botanist and author, 
 born in 1781, died in 1838. Though by birth and early 
 education he was a Frenchman, Chamisso spent the greater 
 and more active part of his Hfe under decidedly German 
 influence. He studied botany with great ardour, and in the 
 expedition conducted by Kotzebue, which circumnavigated 
 the globe, he was chosen as botanist. He wrote many 
 poems in German, some of which displayed great depth of 
 pathetic feeling. 
 
ROBKRT SCHUMANN. 
 
HANS C. ANDERSEN S CORRESPONDENCE. I 55 
 
 minute details, that I believe 1 should re- 
 cognise you if by chance we should ever 
 meet. 
 
 You are already known to me through 
 your works, ** The Improvisatore," ** Moon- 
 light Stories," and your exquisite *' Fiddler," 
 which is the finest thing I have found in 
 recent German literature, with the excep- 
 tion of Immermann's . . .^ 
 
 Now that I am also in possession of a 
 complete translation of your shorter poems, 
 I shall be sure to find many a pearl suitable 
 for musical composition. May Heaven pre- 
 serve you to your friends and admirers for a 
 long time to come, and among these allow 
 me to subscribe myself — Your most faithful, 
 
 Robert Schumann. 
 
 P.S.—My wife sends her kind remem- 
 brances. 
 
 ^ Name omitted. 
 
156 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEn's 
 
 Andersen to Rachel} 
 
 Paris, April 1843. 
 
 Mademoiselle, — Before I leave France 
 I must speak with you once again. The 
 kindness with which you received me, 
 when Alexandre Dumas took me for the 
 first time to see you, gave me the courage, 
 although I express myself very badly In 
 French, to pay you a visit. You were 
 still more amiable towards me, and Invited 
 me to your reception, where I came with 
 a request on my lips which I did not 
 like to express before an assemblage of 
 strangers. But to-day I venture to do so 
 In writing : will you Inscribe for me a few 
 words of remembrance In my album ? I 
 have the handwriting of celebrated persons 
 
 ^ Rachel (Elise Rachel Felix), bom at Mumpf in Switzer- 
 land, 28th February 1820, daughter of a wandering Jewish 
 pedlar. She became a highly gifted and well-known actress 
 in tragedy, both in Europe and America. While on tour in 
 the latter country her health began to rapidly give way, and 
 she died, while still young, at Cannes in France, 3d January 
 1858. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. I 5 7 
 
 In It, several of whom may not be 
 strangers to you. In this way you will 
 confer upon me a pleasant and dear re- 
 membrance. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 In a letter to Fraulein Henrietta Wulff^ 
 dated Paris, 28M Ap7nl 1843, Andersen 
 thus describes his visit to Rachel : — 
 
 The best thing I have to communicate 
 to you Is, that yesterday I was Invited by 
 Rachel to one of her exclusive soirees. 
 The rooms displayed splendour and wealth. 
 Plum-coloured walls, carpets of the same 
 hue, costly curtains and tasteful furniture. 
 An old gentleman and I were the first to 
 arrive. She made room for me on the sofa 
 beside her, close by the fireplace ; she was 
 dressed In black, and was extremely gracious. 
 I begged her to speak German, and ahe 
 
158 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 replied, '* Yes, if you were unable to speak 
 French, then I would ; but you express 
 yourself better in my language than I in 
 the foreign one. Your pronunciation is 
 good, and with a little practice would be 
 very good indeed." And so I was obliged 
 to speak French. Bookcases lined the 
 walls, containing the poetical works of 
 every nation translated into French ; even 
 Swedish poets were to be found there, but 
 not a single Danish. Shakespeare, Schiller, 
 Goethe, Racine, and Corneille stood on a 
 little table by themselves, with the statu- 
 ettes of the two latter. There I discovered 
 Grillparzer's ''Sappho" in the German lan- 
 guage. Splendid flowers were about. As 
 we were sitting here, one guest after an- 
 other arrived, — Scribe, Gandy, — I do not 
 remember all the famous names. Rachel, 
 vivacious and charming, was the only lady 
 among us. She poured out the tea herself, 
 and we gossiped of poetry and art. It 
 was twelve o'clock before I could slip away. 
 To-day she has returned my album, with 
 th^se words written in It, — 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 1 59 
 
 " L'art c'est le vrai. J'espere que cet aphorisme ne sem- 
 ) lera pas paradoxical a un ecrivain aussi distingue que 
 Monsieur Andersen. RACHEL." 
 
 *' Art is Truth. I hope that this aphorism will not appear 
 paradoxical to so distinguished a writer as Monsieur Ander- 
 sen," 
 
 Andersen to Lenz,^ editor of the 
 ' ' Zeitgenossen Hamburg. 
 
 Copenhagen, \\th March 1844. 
 
 Dear Friend, — Yesterday evening Thor- 
 waldsen died suddenly in the theatre. I 
 am writing with all speed, but in Danish, 
 as I can describe it all so much better 
 in my native tongue ; there are plenty of 
 people in Hamburg who can translate it. 
 
 You cannot realise how I am shaken at 
 his unexpected death. I dined with him 
 yesterday at Baroness Stampe's. Besides 
 
 ^ Lenz (W^ilhelm von), writer on music. He wrote 
 " Beethoven and his Three Styles," and a celebrated work 
 entitled, " The Great Pianoforte Virtuosi of our Times, from 
 Personal Acquaintance" (including Liszt, Chopin, Henselt, 
 etc.). He died in St. Petersburg in 1883. 
 
l6o HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 the family, Thorwaldsen, and myself, there 
 were Oehlenschlager, the botanist Schouw, 
 and the young painter Constantine Hansen, 
 who is to do the frescoes for the Thor- 
 waldsen Museum. Thorwaldsen was, as you 
 know, not very talkative ; it was therefore 
 the more surprising to hear him relating 
 anecdotes at the table yesterday. He was 
 very expansive and amiable. I sat beside 
 him, and never dreamt that in an hour he 
 would be numbered with the dead. He 
 asked Oehlenschlager if he would go with 
 him to the theatre, where " Griseldis " 
 was to be produced for the first time. 
 Oehlenschlager was not in the humour, 
 and Thorwaldsen asked me if I would go ; 
 but I, too, refused, as I had felt unwell the 
 whole day. We remained together till 
 about six, then he went to the theatre, and 
 there, during the overture, he stood up to 
 allow a gendeman to pass him. He sat 
 down again, and at the same moment threw 
 his head back. They thought he was faint, 
 and fetched water ; but as he appeared to 
 be lifeless, they carried him out. The 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. l6l 
 
 poet, H. P. Hoist, was one of the first to 
 reach him. Doctors were sent for as soon 
 as he was taken out, but all their efforts 
 were in vain, — Thorwaldsen was dead ! 
 Many of the audience left naturally over- 
 come with sorrow. I had returned home 
 immediately after dinner, where I spent the 
 evening alone, and heard nothing of all this 
 until this morning. Bournonville,^ who was 
 greatly excited, came and told me what had 
 happened. I ran at once to Thorwaldsen's 
 dwelling. In the drawing-room an inquest 
 was already being held as to the cause of 
 death. In the bedroom a few strangers 
 surrounded the bed on which the body lay* 
 Baroness Stampe, who had really been like 
 a daughter to him, and who, only a few 
 days previously, had lost her only beloved 
 sister (Frau Schouw), sat at his feet! It 
 looked so miserable in there, with the floor 
 wet with the snow which the people had 
 carried in with their boots, and outside the 
 
 "■ Bournonville (Auguste), Danish ballet composer, born 
 2ist August 1805 in Copenhagen. In 1830 he was appointed 
 director of the ballet at the Court Theatre, Copenhagen, 
 He died 30th November 1877. 
 
 L 
 
1 62 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEn's 
 
 leaden clouds. I was shocked and deeply 
 moved ! Only yesterday, before he went 
 to dine at Baroness Stampe's, he was work- 
 ing at Luther's statue, which is now his 
 last uncompleted work. Yesterday I held 
 his warm hand In mine, and yesterday, 
 half-an-hour before his death, he said to 
 Oehlenschlager, " I will strike a medal for 
 you of my bas-relief. * The Genius of 
 Poetry.' " It is pleasing to think that these 
 words were almost the last he uttered 
 to Oehlenschlager. 
 
 It is only a few days since I went to 
 Thorwaldsen concerning your letter about 
 getting his biography for your '* Zeltge- 
 nossen." I spoke to him a great deal about 
 it, and showed him the proof which you 
 had sent me, with Liszt's picture. I begged 
 him to choose the portrait most like him- 
 self from among the many which abound 
 of him. He declared that a little drawing 
 that Garther had done was the best ; but 
 as perhaps you might find one like it very 
 expensive, and probably wished for an 
 engraving or a lithograph, he emphatically 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 1 63 
 
 recommended a portrait painted by Begas, 
 and etched by Aensler of Munich. I do 
 not know if you will choose the latter, or 
 if I had better ask Garther what he will 
 charge for a copy of his drawing. 
 
 \The end is missing?^ 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 I 
 
 Schumann to Andersen. 
 
 Dresden, 14M April 1845. 
 
 I SEND you this greeting by Gade. I 
 wish I could have gone with him to the 
 north, but indisposition still detains me* 
 Since I saw you last I have suffered with a 
 dreadful nervous illness, and even now I 
 am not quite convalescent. With the ap- 
 proaching spring, I feel somewhat strength- 
 ened, and hope soon to be better. 
 
 I hardly could or dared to write, but I 
 have constantly thought of you, and also of 
 our ^* Gliicksblume." 
 
164 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEn's 
 
 You answered me so kindly from Berlin, 
 and promised to send me the sketch — may 
 I remind you of it ? Is it possible that it 
 has appeared in print yet ? And now, how 
 have you been otherwise ? Have you writ- 
 ten new fairy tales or poems ? Does Spain 
 still beckon from the distance ? May we 
 hope to soon welcome you again in Ger- 
 many? Such a meeting as on that evening 
 when you were with us — a meeting of poet, 
 songstress, actress, and composer ! Will 
 there soon be such another ? Do you know 
 Uhland's '' Schifflein " ?— 
 
 " Wenn treffen wir 
 
 An fernen Oit uns wieder?" 
 
 That evening will never be forgotten by 
 me. My wife sends many greetings. She 
 presented me with a daughter five weeks 
 ago, which makes the third. We shall 
 remain for the summer in beautiful Dres- 
 den. 
 
 Gade has written a new overture — a most 
 taking composition. The Danes may well 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 1 65 
 
 be proud of this splendid musician. Helsted, 
 too, Is very talented. 
 
 May I hope to receive an answer from 
 you, and also one about the '' Gliicks- 
 blume"? Write here to Dresden. If I 
 can do anything more for you In Germany, 
 I shall be pleased to be appointed your 
 agent. — Your most admiring, 
 
 Robert Schumann. 
 
 P.S. — Do you know the poems of 
 Baroness von Droste-Hiilshof ? I think 
 they are really excellent. 
 
 Andersen to King Christian VIII, 
 of Deninark. 
 
 Vienna, i7.th March 1846. 
 
 Most Gracious King, — During the whole 
 of my journey my heart has felt the need 
 of relating to your most gracious Majesty 
 how well I have fared, how full of sun- 
 
l66 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 shine my life is, and with what honour and 
 cordiaHty I have been received everywhere. 
 But I have not ventured to write to my 
 kind, gracious King. I have, however, in 
 a letter to Her Serene Highness the 
 Duchess of Augustenburg, begged her if 
 she wrote to Her Majesty the Queen, to 
 bring me to your remembrance. 
 
 Your Majesty knows that the King of 
 Prussia has most graciously conferred upon 
 me the order of the Red Eagle. I received 
 the same on leaving Berlin, and when I 
 arrived at Dresden six weeks later, Minister 
 Jordan handed me my diploma. As I am 
 unacquainted with the usual formalities, and 
 did not know if the Danish Embassy had 
 sent the news to Denmark, or whether I 
 had to notify it myself, I wrote to the 
 Privy Councillor Adler,^ and in a letter 
 received from him this morning, he says 
 that your Majesty is very graciously dis- 
 posed towards me, and that it would be 
 quite correct if I wrote to you myself to 
 beg your permission to accept the foreign 
 
 1 The King's private secretary. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 1 67 
 
 order. And this Is what I have now ven- 
 tured to do. In this way one of my 
 dearest wishes is fulfilled — that of writing 
 to your Majesty direct. Privy Councillor 
 Adler thought that my kind King would 
 not receive it in the least ungraciously if 
 I wrote other news of myself on this journey. 
 
 When I arrived at Berlin the King of 
 Prussia most graciously invited me at once 
 to the royal table. Afterwards I spent a 
 most highly interesting evening at Potsdam, 
 when the King was exceedingly cordial to- 
 wards me. He spoke a great deal of his 
 visit to Copenhagen, said he was enchanted 
 with our beech forests and our excellent 
 theatre, and talked to me a great deal about 
 Danish literature, especially of the impres- 
 sion which my writings had made upon 
 him. On reading my novel, '' Only a 
 Fiddler," he said the death of the stork 
 brought tears into his eyes. 
 
 Everywhere I learned that my works 
 had found an opening with the German 
 public. A lucky star presides over my 
 writings — they fly far and wide. 
 
1 68 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEn's 
 
 Such happiness, such recognition, softens 
 and humbles the heart before God. Oh, 
 when I think of my poverty-stricken child- 
 hood, of my deprivations, my want, and 
 the heavy gloomy hours, then it seems as 
 if this must all be a dream, and I am near 
 crying ! Your Majesty, at this moment 
 when I am writing I think more of your 
 heart than of your crown : you will take 
 this kindly and graciously. 
 
 I went to Weimar, and was heartily re- 
 ceived by the amiable Hereditary Grand- 
 Duke. None of my dearest friends in 
 Denmark could have received me more 
 affectionately than he did. 
 
 I stayed for two days in Jena — where 
 the Holstein professor (Michelsen) gave 
 a large party in my honour, and spoke 
 very encouragingly of the importance and 
 progress of Danish literature. The Hered- 
 itary Grand - Duke himself came to the 
 town to say good-bye once more, and to 
 give me a letter of recommendation to the 
 Grand- Duke Stephen in Prague. In Leipzig, 
 Brockhans, Lorck, and several other pub- 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 1 69 
 
 Ushers called upon me, and I received my 
 first offer in a foreign country which is 
 likely to bring in money. An edition de 
 luxe of my fairy tales, and a large edition 
 of my collected works will appear at the 
 New Year, and I shall receive three hun- 
 dred Prussian thalers for revising the same. 
 When I arrived at Dresden the King of 
 Saxony invited me one evening. The 
 Queen told me that her sister, the Queen 
 of Prussia, had written to her about me in 
 a very friendly way. Both their Majesties 
 were most gracious, and I was obliged to 
 read aloud to them the two fairy tales, 
 " The Fig-tree " and '' Holger Danske," 
 whereupon the conversation turned on Den- 
 mark, and everything great and good there. 
 Prince John's consort is so exceedingly like 
 her sister, the Queen of Prussia, that I was 
 quite astonished at the resemblance. Prince 
 John has beautiful, amiable children, and 
 they appear to know all my fairy tales. I 
 was received just as cordially by the Arch- 
 Duke Stephen, and now in Vienna by the 
 Arch-Duchess Sophie, to whom I had a 
 
170 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 letter of introduction, given me by her 
 sister, the Queen of Saxony. 
 
 Two evenings ago I visited Her Imperial 
 Highness. The Dowager- Empress was 
 most earnest in her enquiries about your 
 Majesties and the Queen- Dowager. I also 
 met Prince Wasa there, and several other 
 exalted personages. It has been most in- 
 teresting to me to visit the different courts, 
 and to mix with high society, and I hope 
 also to derive some intellectual benefit 
 from my wanderings. My new experiences 
 will, I hope, blossom forth with renewed 
 fragrance in my future writings. I am 
 thoroughly learning to recognise in life 
 how much that is truly great and good 
 one finds in all stations. Life is so de- 
 lightful, and every one is really good at 
 heart. I have confidence in all men, and in 
 truth I have never yet been deceived. 
 Even in an economical sense my travels 
 have been a success. I have now been 
 away five months, and have not as yet 
 spent quite five hundred Imperial thalers. 
 This has been possible for the reason that 
 
I 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE. I7I 
 
 I have been received by families in most 
 places like a valued relative. The relation- 
 ship consists in the interest that people 
 take in my writings, and the friendship 
 with which they surround my personality. 
 
 Indeed I left most towns with tears ; for 
 in each 1 was received as a friend and 
 brother. 
 
 But I tire my most gracious King, my 
 letter is already so lengthy, and yet there 
 are still things I should like to relate 
 which perhaps might be a little more in- 
 teresting than all that I have said about 
 myself. For example, at my departure 
 from Prague I saw a sight which I shal 
 never forget. Several thousand soldiers 
 were leaving there for Poland — troops who 
 had been quartered in Prague for many 
 years — and the populace had turned out to 
 bid them farewell. The whole hill-side 
 was packed with people, and resembled a 
 large variegated Turkish carpet : the army 
 stretched for miles, and everywhere hats 
 and handkerchiefs were waving. In every 
 village that we passed we saw crowds of 
 
172 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEn's 
 
 people. The rapid travelling, the torch- 
 lights, the Bohemian faces, and the foreign 
 language— all these had something striking 
 about them. It was the masses here 
 which imposed. 
 
 I saw a great deal of Jenny Lind in 
 Berlin and Weimar ; she holds her memo- 
 ries of Denmark very dearly, and she also 
 loves this country. Her representation 
 of *' La Somnambula " is the finest thing 
 I know. She confided to me that she has 
 a great desire to appear in this opera 
 when she goes to Copenhagen, which may 
 possibly be in September. Her acting, 
 her singing, her whole bearing in *' La 
 Somnambula " is such that I can find no 
 words to express it, except that one be- 
 comes a better man when one has seen her 
 in it ! One laughs and weeps : God him" 
 self becomes revealed in us. I forgot the 
 theatre, and only felt the sanctity of art. 
 In the middle of April she arrives in 
 Vienna, remains there a month, and then 
 goes to Switzerland. I have given the 
 original text of an opera to the Danish 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 1 73 
 
 composer, Gade, who lives in Leipzig, and 
 he is now writing the music for it. 
 
 I have worked diligently at my bio- 
 graphy, which my German publisher is 
 going to buy from me, and which will 
 serve as an introduction to the new edition 
 of my collected works. In it I shall men- 
 tion my belief in God and the world, and 
 relate the fairy tale of my life, which is so 
 rich and happy. 
 
 I could not have ordered everything 
 more delightfully than the dear God has 
 done for me, even if I had had the great 
 power to do it. I recognise it in the 
 fullest degree ; ' my heart beats in grati- 
 tude to God and mankind, and I could 
 press all the world to my breast ! 
 
 Believe me, your Majesty, I shall cherish 
 dearly and lastingly the kindness that I 
 receive. May I succeed in expressing 
 this fully in the sketch of my life, and 
 my Royal benefactor will understand how 
 deeply I feel and prize his great goodness 
 and kindness towards me. It was on the 
 island of Fohr, twenty-five years after my 
 
174 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 tramp as a destitute boy to Copenhagen, 
 that I sat at my King's table on his 
 birthday. Your Majesty and the Queen 
 congratulated me that day at Fohr, and 
 the kind, amiable way in which you both 
 expressed your goodwill towards me, which 
 indeed I have experienced, has bound 
 me to you for ever. May God rejoice 
 and bless your Majesties. 
 
 I shall now fly to Italy. On the 2nd of 
 April I shall attain my forty-first year, 
 but my mind and thoughts are as fresh as 
 if I were only twenty. I hope to accom 
 plish new works ; every journey is not my 
 way of hunting up material, but is a re- 
 freshing, intellectual bath, and this one, if 
 God wills, will certainly bring forth a 
 book. And then when my fatherland re- 
 ceives it, and foreign countries are full of 
 it, then, most gracious King, my joy will 
 not be vanity — no, it will be joy that my 
 friends are honoured through me, and that 
 my beloved King will see that I am not 
 quite unworthy of his favour and kind- 
 ness. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 175 
 
 A new year of life will begin for me in 
 Italy. It will begin with happy auspices 
 if I should hear through Councillor Adler 
 or Councillor Collin, who often writes 
 to me, that my King has now, as always, 
 graciously read this letter : and if the ex- 
 pressions used are only too wanting in 
 etiquette, that your Majesty has graciously 
 pardoned me. May I venture to ask my 
 King to tell Her Majesty the Queen how 
 faithfully I think of her with the very 
 deepest respect. God grant your Majesty 
 happiness and health! 
 
 Andersen to the Grand-Duke of Wehnar. 
 
 Copenhagen, 26//^ October 1844. 
 
 My Noble Hereditary Grand-Duke,— 
 Your Highness can easily imagine my happi- 
 ness on receipt of your warm and affectionate 
 letter ; it was as if we were again together 
 as at Ettersburg at the sad moment of 
 
176 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 parting. You pressed my hand, and said 
 you would be a kind and sincere friend. 
 Your Royal Highness has gained in me a 
 poet's soul — a human heart the more. 
 Your letter now lies among my most 
 sacred treasures. My sincere thanks for 
 the favourable reception of my drama, 
 "The Mulatto." I have now myself 
 received and read a copy of the German 
 translation, but unfortunately all my flowers 
 are withered in it, — their perfume has fled ; 
 in several places I even encountered 
 barren ground instead of my velvety-green 
 sward. Alas ! how changed ! And yet the 
 translator has spent time and trouble on 
 it, but the diction is not mine. The 
 subject I took from a tale, " Les Epaves," 
 but the metrical form, the lyrical drapery 
 so fresh and rich with which I endowed 
 it, changes it so much, that I may regard 
 it as my own. But now, in the German 
 translation, the skeleton of the story is too 
 plainly visible. A new original drama by 
 me will shortly appear on our Copen- 
 hagen stage: it is a fairy play, " Glucks- 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 1 77 
 
 blume." I am at work upon a new novel : 
 the scenes are laid in the islands of the 
 German Ocean, where I was in August 
 and September, and in Copenhagen ; it 
 is lightened by a chapter upon bright 
 and fairy-like Ettersburg. One of the 
 characters is drawn from Jenny Lind, and 
 I trust that the sweet spirit of the original 
 will breathe throughout the whole. 
 
 During the past summer my mind has 
 received many fresh impressions. My 
 residence on the island Fohr with their 
 Majesties was a source of novel and de- 
 lightful experiences. The scenery of the 
 islands is very remarkable, and has left 
 many lasting and vivid impressions on my 
 mind. The King and Queen are both 
 so amiable that, if known by all, they 
 would be universally loved. 
 
 I particularly enjoyed two little sea ex- 
 cursions to the adjacent islands ; the long- 
 est trip, in which the Queen and her 
 ladies also joined, was to the ^' Halligen," 
 that little green spot in the raging sea. 
 Two centuries ago this formed part of the 
 
 I 
 
1/8 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 mainland, but the waves came, and now 
 the green island is all that remains. The 
 largest island is Gland, its area being about 
 equal to the churchyard containing the 
 royal vault at Weimar. Here is a church 
 surrounded by a village of ten to twelve 
 houses, all huddled together like men 
 in distress, and built of stone, strongly 
 supported on timber, the interiors being 
 arranged like ships' cabins. The whole 
 island produces nothing but a miserable 
 briny grass, upon which a few sheep 
 browse, and these, when the waves rise, 
 are driven into a room in the roof. Not 
 a tree, not a bush was to be seen : a 
 small hedge, the only one on the whole 
 island, had been cut down by the worthy 
 people (that is to say the women, for the 
 men were away on voyages to Greenland 
 and Holland), and laid over a little swamp 
 that their beloved Queen might cross 
 over it with dry feet. The young girls 
 were strikingly pretty, like mermaids, and 
 all wore a red fez like the Greeks, while 
 their jackets were trimmed with silver 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 1 79 
 
 buttons. During the spring-tides the 
 houses stand in the midst of the heaving 
 sea, and large ships are wrecked on the 
 dykes. Life here is like a fairy tale of the 
 sea, dreamt in an open boat on the waves 
 of the German Ocean. My second trip 
 was with a hunting party to the island of 
 Amrum. A ship, several years ago, was 
 stranded here, in which were tw^o rabbits, 
 and from these Adam and Eve animals a 
 whole race has sprung up on the island. 
 
 The tide ebbs every twelve hours, when 
 the sea recedes for miles, and waggons 
 are driven from island to island, between 
 which, when the tide is in, great ships 
 sail. But if a spring-tide suddenly rises, 
 waggons, horses, and men are washed 
 away. From the ship we saw four 
 waggons drive over the sands to the 
 island ; it was like a fata morgana^ for 
 the wheels appeared to be passing over 
 the tranquil surface of the water. The 
 sun threw its rays on the dunes (sand-hills), 
 which stood there in form and colour 
 like the Alps. Here in the dunes my 
 
l8o HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 mind was carried to the desert of Sahara. 
 Both must partake of the same character : 
 sand-hills stood out in the sunlight, like 
 pyramids and graves ; the hideous great 
 frogs, as large as chickens, covered with 
 ugly grey warts, unable to jump, crawled 
 about or lay still, only turning their heads 
 to look at us, and croaking when we 
 touched them with the foot. Wandering 
 about in' the sand reminded me of walking 
 in the ashes of Vesuvius. At last we stood 
 on one of the highest cone-like sand-hills, 
 which crumbled under our feet : the bound- 
 less sea spread before us — the broad, 
 pellucid German Ocean. It was at the 
 ebb, and the water had receded two miles.' 
 Ships large and small, which had ap- 
 proached too near to the coast, lay on 
 their sides like dead fish, and waited for 
 the tide. The sailors were walking about 
 the sands, a fire had been kindled, and the 
 pillar of smoke rose upwards, like that of 
 Moses in the desert. Farther off there 
 stood two great wooden towers, erected 
 ^ Six English miles. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 1 8 1 
 
 for shipwrecked mariners ; a jug of water, 
 and a basket with biscuits and brandy- 
 hung therefrom, so that the poor unfortu- 
 nates could sustain life here between cloud 
 and wave till rescue came from the island. 
 
 I went from Fohr, as mentioned in my 
 last letter, to Augustenburg on the pleasant 
 island of Als in the Baltic. This island is 
 a garden of fruit ; the castle lies in the 
 midst of a wood. The Baltic ripples against 
 the borders of the flower-beds, and an arm 
 of the sea stretches far into the gardens 
 and wood. In the household of the 
 Grand-Duke everything was so homelike 
 and agreeable. I stayed there eighteen 
 days. There was racing on the Grand- 
 Duchess's birthday, and a ball in the 
 evening. The glee club came with music 
 and torches. On the second day of the 
 races we drove over the whole of the 
 beautiful island, down to the sea, through 
 the wood, then over the green hills, 
 until we saw the blue horizon stretching 
 away to Angeln, Funen, and far over 
 the open Baltic. 
 
1 82 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 At the great table I was much honoured: 
 the Grand- Duke proposed a toast for me 
 as a Danish poet and his guest. Indeed, 
 I felt and experienced there, daily, very- 
 many delicate proofs of kindness and 
 princely graciousness. The eldest Prince, 
 Frederick, made me the subject of a 
 charming sympathetic poem. Oh ! one 
 grows good and softened in spirit in the 
 light of pure affection ! The sea voyage 
 back to Copenhagen was very stormy, but 
 I did not feel at all unwell ; indeed I 
 found a pleasure in looking into the waves. 
 
 Now I am back again, as I said, in 
 Copenhagen, working at the new novel 
 and living the beautiful summer over again 
 in memory. I think of those I love, and 
 so you know, my noble Grand-Duke, how 
 often you and your country are in my 
 thoughts. At Fohr I related to the King 
 and Queen how good you and yours had 
 been to me. At my audience in Copen- 
 hagen I could not conceal my pleasure in 
 your letter, and their Majesties kindly 
 shared in my delight. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 1 83 
 
 Through the newspapers I have learned 
 the good tidings of the new heart which 
 now beats at Ettersburg — as the poet 
 says, **a bud beside the rose." I hope 
 that the child, when it is older, may find 
 friends as constant as those who are so 
 attached to its father. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to the Grand-Dtike of Weimar, 
 
 Vernet, Pyrenees, ^jth July 1846. 
 
 Your Royal Highness's letter was the 
 first and only one I received in Marseilles. 
 My affection for you is such as the heart 
 can only feel for a friend, exalted Sir ! 
 All our letters have found each of us very 
 well, if only we ourselves might meet as 
 happily in six or eight weeks' time ! I 
 was very unwell at Naples ; the heat was 
 some eighty degrees in the shade ; the sun 
 hung In the sky like a vampire that sucks 
 
184 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 blood and marrow from the limbs. I have 
 never experienced anything like it before ! 
 From ten o'clock in the morning till five 
 o'clock p.m. I could not go out ; I lay on 
 the sofa utterly exhausted and unnerved, 
 while the noise in the streets of Naples 
 went through my ears to my finger-tips 
 like a roaring whirlpool. It was a sound of 
 screaming people, rumbling carts, working 
 labourers, and cab-horses, which, worried by 
 flies, could not stand still, and struck their 
 fore-hoofs continually against the paving- 
 stones. My opposite neighbour played no- 
 thing but scales on the piano from early 
 morning till far into the night, which was 
 enough to drive me mad ! In my weak 
 state I was advised not to go to Spain, as 
 I should be unable to endure the heat 
 there ; but I hoped that the sea trip to 
 Marseilles would strengthen me, and took 
 my passage on the well-known steamer, 
 "Castor." We left on the 23d of June, 
 but the ship was over-crowded with people 
 and carts. The first night passed off 
 pretty well, but the second and third 
 
CORRESPONDENCE, 1 85 
 
 were terrible. It was stormy : the steamer 
 swung like a cask in the open sea, and 
 could neither go on nor remain still. I 
 and several ladies and gentlemen lay be- 
 side each other under the carts. Every mo- 
 ment the waves broke over the deck side- 
 ways, everything creaked, and the billows 
 dashed over us as if they would shatter 
 us to pieces. On the evening of the 24th 
 of June, while your Royal Highness was 
 being received with acclamations at the 
 fete in the theatre, I lay surrounded by 
 the waves and thought of you, my dear 
 friend — thought of your Highness's birth- 
 day, which I could not celebrate. In the 
 night it was still worse, — the women 
 shrieked, and I thought that the steamer 
 must go down. My thoughts then turned 
 affectionately to all whom I love, and to 
 you, my noble friend, and I wondered 
 whether I was to die while you were 
 dancing at your birthday fete. Sorrow 
 burdened my soul, and I wished so fer- 
 vently to see you. once again. Only now 
 from Vernet in the Pyrenees do I send 
 
I 86 HANS C. ANDERSEN S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 my congratulations in health and vigour 
 for the 24th of June last. 
 
 At Genoa I had resolved to leave the 
 steamer, to give up Spain, and drive in 
 the diligence, by the way of Milan, to 
 Switzerland, but my letter of credit was 
 only available at Marseilles and Malaga. 
 In Genoa the Danish Consul could not 
 manage to let me have the money, so I 
 was obliged to go to Marseilles. It was 
 God's will I had to go on board again, 
 and with fair weather arrived at Mar- 
 seilles on the 27th inst. I rested and 
 took care of myself there for three days. 
 The air was lighter, and I felt much better : 
 then came the longing and desire for 
 Spain once more. The Consul, however, 
 thought it would be better for me to go 
 to Vernet first, there to strengthen my- 
 self still further. At the table in Mar- 
 seilles I saw a stranger who stared at me. 
 I knew him again : it was the violinist, 
 Ole Bull/ who had returned from America, 
 
 ^ Bull (Ole Bornemann), famous Norwegian violinist, 
 born 5th February 18 10. He became acquainted with 
 
HANS c. Andersen's correspondence. 189 
 
 and was received with public rejoicings in 
 France. We rushed across to each other, 
 and he told me I had a number of friends 
 in the New World, and that several 
 thousand copies of the cheap edition of my 
 novel, *' Only a Fiddler," which was 
 recently printed, have been circulated in 
 the United States. He added that many 
 questions were asked about me, and that I 
 was much liked and well known in 
 America. God knows, it makes me feel 
 quite insignificant, and yet it gives me the 
 keenest pleasure. Why have I won so 
 much ? I feel as if I were a poor peasant 
 boy who had had a king's mantle thrown 
 around him with the honour and venera- 
 tion appertaining thereto. I must accom- 
 plish something more — something better; 
 may the good God give me strength. 
 
 Paganini, and with him visited Paris. After many reverses 
 of fortune he made several triumphant tours through 
 Europe and America. The bulk of the wealth, however, 
 which he thus acquired, was lost through unsuccessful 
 speculations in land, and he found himself once more 
 obliged to take to his violin for his living. After making a 
 third and last visit to America, he returned to his native 
 place, Bergen, in Norway, where he died 17th August iS^o, 
 
190 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDER^hN > 
 
 Nismes, on account of its antiquities, 
 is an exceedingly interesting town. The 
 Amphitheatre and the so-called '* Four- 
 corner House," are kept as few old towers 
 are in Italy. In Nismes I visited the 
 baker Reboul. Your Royal Highness will 
 remember Lamartine's ** Journey in the 
 East," and how pleasantly Reboul is men- 
 tioned in It : he is a baker, but also a true 
 French poet. 
 
 I found everything at Reboul's quite the 
 same as Lamartine did. I arrived at the 
 bakery, and he came to meet me in his 
 shirt-sleeves, with flour on his fingers ; he 
 was busy with the baking. I told him 
 my name, which he recognised from the 
 ** Revue de Paris." He was most cordial, 
 and Invited me to visit him at two o'clock, 
 when I found him dressed, and in a 
 pretty room with books and pictures ; a 
 medallion of David hung on the wall, and 
 statuettes stood on the mantelpiece. We 
 talked of Germany and Denmark, and 
 about his friend Lamartine. 
 
 I passed through Cette and Narbonne, 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. IQI 
 
 and arrived at Perplgnan, feeling very 
 unwell. It takes two days to reach Bar- 
 celona, but two days in this sun is a hell ; 
 I must try it again in the spring, if I live 
 as long. I have done my best to go to 
 Spain, but at this time of year it is out of 
 the question ; even the return journey 
 through the south of France I dare not 
 attempt till I am stronger. This is the 
 reason I have come to the Pyrenees, 
 where I have been eight days, and from 
 here my carrier pigeon flies to Etters- 
 burg. Vernet lies between Prades and 
 the Spanish boundary : the town is poor 
 and wTetched, and is built in the form of a 
 terrace, the houses with dark red roofs, 
 and with open black gaps for windows, 
 through which one can look into the 
 rooms. In the valley the vines and chest- 
 nuts are blooming. Here, north and 
 south seem to combine, for there are 
 green valleys with sweet-smelling stacks of 
 hay and wild curled mint, narrow clefts 
 where fig trees and cypresses grow, while 
 encircling the whole are wild, rnetalliq- 
 
192 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 like mountains, on the peaks of which are 
 projecting blocks of stone which resemble 
 broken statues and pillars. There are not 
 many visitors to the baths. Ibrahim Pasha 
 spent three months here, but has now 
 gone away. In eight days I shall travel 
 as quickly as possible, via the Languedoc 
 Canal and the Rhone, to Lyons, on the 
 way to Switzerland, where I hope to find 
 a letter poste restante, at Geneva, from 
 your Royal Highness, — a letter which will 
 afford me joy and happiness, and from 
 which I shall hope to learn the prob- 
 able whereabouts of your Royal Highness 
 by the end of August, if at Wartburg or 
 Ettersburg. I would like to remain at 
 Weimar for a fortnight if your Royal 
 Highness will, as you have told me, 
 accommodate me for so long. I am 
 homesick, and have a longing for Weimar, 
 if I may say so. You will understand 
 my feelings, my exalted friend. 
 
 From Switzerland I shall arrive, by 
 way of Basle and Frankfort, at Wartburg 
 earlier than at Weimar. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 1 93 
 
 I present respectful reg-ards to your 
 exalted parents, to the excellent Heredi- 
 tary Grand-Duchess, your Royal sister 
 from Prussia, and to all my dear friends 
 in Weimar, also to Frau von Gross, 
 Beaulleu, and Chancellor Miiller. 
 
 God grant that T may again see your 
 Royal Highness In health and happiness. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to the Gj^and-Duke of Weimar. 
 
 Naples, lyth May 1846. 
 
 Yours was again the first letter I 
 received in Naples. I had enquired for 
 several days at the post-office, and at last 
 found a letter. I at once recognised the 
 shape and handwriting, and devoured it 
 in the public streets in the little shade 
 that I could find, and afterwards read it 
 at home. 
 
 In Rome I received letters from Vienna. 
 
194 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 Jenny Lind was still expected there. Your 
 Royal Highness will scarcely believe 
 what they wrote : — '' In the highest 
 circles it is said that Jenny Lind is a 
 good singer, but sings without feeling 
 and style." And people believe it ! 
 Well, thought I, when she arrives 
 they will think differently ; and this 
 proves to be the case. I hear now, 
 through letters and newspapers, that the 
 Viennese of all classes are beside them- 
 selves with delight ; she has charmed 
 everybody, and has surprised Taddolini 
 and all other singers. I knew she would ! 
 True genius and a good heart are ever 
 victorious ! The last letter from Jenny 
 Lind was full of love and devotion for 
 Weimar, and the exalted noble friends 
 there. I shall not see them this year, 
 perhaps never more ! I seem to have a 
 presentiment of it. 
 
 I remained in Rome a month ; one 
 seems to grow into the ruins there, and 
 live with the stony gods. Here roses 
 bloom perpetually, and the church bells for- 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 1 95 
 
 ever ring. Rome is not the Rome of 
 thirteen years ago, — everything Is modern- 
 ised, even the ruins : the grass and the 
 bushes have been cut down, everything 
 has been made so neat, and even in the 
 Campagna one seems to fancy the exist- 
 ence of railways. The peasant no longer 
 retains his old belief. At Easter the people 
 of the Campagna stood in great masses 
 before the church, just like the Protestant 
 strangers, as the Pope gave his blessing. 
 It grated on my feelings. As for myself, I 
 felt impelled to kneel down before the 
 invisible Almighty. When I was in Rome, 
 for the first time, they all knelt, but now 
 reason seems to have overcome faith. Yet 
 everything In this world has its good side. 
 In ten years' time, when the railway shall 
 have brought nearer the towns of the 
 north and the south, Rome will be still 
 more altered, and yet one must always love 
 it. Rome is like a fairy tale, — one Is al- 
 ways discovering some new wonder, and 
 lives there In Imagination and reality at 
 the same time. 
 
196 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 I believe the most splendid pictures 
 are to be found in Rome, and yet I con- 
 sider the statues still higher triumphs of 
 art. Upon my first visit to Paris I had 
 no eye, no taste, for sculpture. It was in 
 Florence, before the Venus de Medici, that, 
 for the first time, I felt as if I must say 
 with Thorwaldsen, — "The snow melted away 
 before my eyes." ^ 
 
 A new world of art opened before me, 
 and now in Rome and Naples I admire 
 the sculpture far more than the pictures. 
 This art enters so thoroughly into one's 
 life, that one is carried away by it. 
 
 Among the new things in Rome I place 
 highest Jerichau's '• Hunter." This statue, 
 I am convinced, will take higher rank than 
 his much -praised " Hercules ' and his 
 *' Hebe." He has already had an offer 
 for it from a Russian prince. For the 
 sake of his health he has now gone to 
 Denmark with his wife, who is also a dis- 
 tinguished artist. He is perhaps at this 
 moment in our dear Weimar, seeing and 
 
 ^ English equivalent : The scales fell from my eyes. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 1 97 
 
 speaking to your Royal Highness — a 
 pleasure he had long anticipated. Jerichau 
 is a native of Funen, my birthplace. 
 
 I was very cordially received in Rome. 
 I was often at the residence of the Hano- 
 verian ambassador, Kastner, who is an 
 excellent man. He has painted two splen- 
 did portraits of me. The Danish sculptor, 
 Kolberg, who Is considered a genius In 
 Denmark, has executed a bust of me, which 
 is to be sent this summer by sea to Copen- 
 hagen ; from whence I hope to send you 
 a cast via Stettin. You will perhaps find 
 a little corner for It In your room, but It 
 may be a long time before you receive It. 
 I hope that the original himself will be 
 with you sooner. 
 
 I was 111 and confined to bed for about 
 the last eight days of my stay in Rome. 
 It was some little time before I was my- 
 self again, on account of the never-ending 
 Sirocco, which made me feel strangely 
 languid and oppressed. The heat here In 
 Naples is also unbearable. In the day- 
 time one can scarcely cross the burning 
 
198 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 squares and streets for the heat, which 
 falls on the limbs like the poisoned 
 garment of Hercules ; it is as if the mar- 
 row was melting in one's bones. One learns 
 to walk slowly, and to take advantage of 
 every little bit of shade from the ad- 
 jacent houses. During the heat of the day 
 one Is obliged to drive, and can only walk 
 in the evening. 
 
 On the I St of May I left with Count 
 Paar, the brother of the Princess Paar in 
 Vienna, with whom I stayed, as your Royal 
 Highness knows, in Rome. In the carriage 
 was also the Countess Brockdorff (sister of 
 Frau Michelsen in Jena). We flew over 
 the Campagna — that great canvas of the 
 world's history — and on, over the verdant 
 marshes, the monotonous changeless green 
 of which at last looks like cloth that is 
 measured by the yard, then through an 
 endless vista of beautiful grass, water, and 
 glades. 
 
 At Terraclna it was lovely! I saw again 
 the ever-rolling sea that I love so much. 
 In Moro we stayed one night and half the 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 1 99 
 
 next day, which we passed beneath the 
 lemon and laurel trees. Here Italy really 
 begins, — ''The land where the orange glows," 
 
 At Santa Lucia, my windows com- 
 mand a wonderful view of the Bay down 
 to Vesuvius. This is a busy little place : 
 everything seems lively both on land and 
 water. What a wonderful effect of light 
 and shade delights one in the evenings 
 here ! In the north the moon sheds silver 
 on the waves ; here it is gold ! A dozen 
 or so of fishing smacks, all with flaming 
 links, are gliding along, each throwing a 
 column-like gleam upon the surface of the 
 sea. The lamps of the light-house are 
 revolving in the wind, their light now 
 bright, now faint, and then disappearing ; 
 a thousand twinkling lights in the streets 
 from every shop, and the processions of 
 children, with burning tapers ; carriages, 
 with lamps like rolling fire-balls, rumbling 
 past ; and over the whole, Vesuvius swings 
 its ever-flaming censer. 
 
 There are no singers here, as San Carlo^ 
 
 ^ The principal theatre. 
 
200 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 is Still closed. I have been to Del Fonda, 
 and have heard Brombilla as '* Lucia," but 
 was in no way impressed ; in fact I was 
 bored. Really, after having heard Jenny 
 Lind, one can never be satisfied again. 
 Here, amongst many other things, I think 
 of the biblical words, "He who hath tasted 
 the heavenly bread can no longer partake 
 of the earthly." 
 
 In Rome, and also in Naples, I have 
 daily and diligently worked at my bio- 
 graphy for the complete German edition 
 of my works ; I think it will be finished at 
 Sorrento. You, my dear friend, play a 
 prominent part in this fairy tale of real 
 life. How could I have written it without 
 expressing my affection and regard for you, 
 who have thrown so much sunshine into it .-* 
 But before the world I think of you as the 
 Prince. Your Royal Highness can read this 
 paragraph first, but you know it already : 
 before God and ourselves we are friends, 
 but before men I must never forcret what 
 a high position you fill ! 
 
 Of the many who received n\e cordially 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 20I 
 
 in Naples, I like the Prussian ambassador,. 
 Baron Brockhausen, the best. He is a very- 
 interesting- man, keeps a pleasant house, and 
 offered of his own accord to introduce me 
 at once to several diplomatists ; but there 
 will be hardly time for this, as I am go- 
 ing away the day after to-morrow, perhaps, 
 to Sorrento, and then to Capri, Almafi, and 
 Ischia. At the end of June I hope to be 
 in Marseilles, and there I beg that your 
 Royal Highness will address the next 
 letter, poste restante, with which you mean 
 to gladden me. From Marseilles I shall 
 go to Spain ; how long I shall remain, and 
 my movements there, will depend for the 
 most part on how I am able to bear the 
 heat. In Naples, as I have already said, 
 I find it very trying, although we have 
 not yet reached the end of May. I have 
 never before been in Italy in the summer. 
 Please convey my respectful regards to 
 the Grand-Duchess ! also to your exalted 
 parents. May I beg to be remembered to 
 the ladies-in-waiting, to Frau von Gross, 
 Countess Beust, Chancellor Miiller, and 
 
202 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 Scholl ! If your Royal Highness writes to 
 your Royal sister, the Princess of Prussia, 
 tell her that she and the kind, good Prince, 
 her son, will never be forgotten by me. 
 And now, to speak Italian, Felicissima 
 vita^ In Marseilles may I hope for a 
 letter addressed poste restante ? 
 
 This summer your Royal Highness will 
 read "Only a Fiddler," as you have 
 promised me. You have a copy, have 
 you not ? Grant me this favour, and if 
 you find the book uninteresting after 
 reading the first chapter, then, I beg of 
 you, lay it aside. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 A niter sen to William J or dan, editor oj 
 ' • L it era ry Gazette. 
 
 Copenhagen, October 1846. 
 
 Honoured Sir, — It is more than kind — it 
 is exceedingly gracious and friendly — of you 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 2O3 
 
 to write to me. I hasten to tender you 
 my thanks, and in spirit I press your hand. 
 Three weeks ago Mr. Beckwith, who has 
 translated ''The Bazaar," called upon me, 
 and told me how well this book had been 
 received in England. He has since brought 
 me several journals, amongst them yours, 
 and you can hardly understand the singular 
 pleasure which I experience : I feel humbled, 
 yet overjoyed. Often I cannot myself un- 
 derstand how it is my books have met 
 with so hearty a reception among strangers, 
 how it is that strangers show so much kind- 
 ness to me personally. I have during my 
 life seen dark days ; but of late years, I 
 have reaped untold happiness. I often think 
 God is too good to me. 
 
 In England and Germany people seem 
 only to look upon what is good in my 
 writings. It gives me energy to work, 
 but yet fills me with fear, lest I fail to do 
 something still better. I send my heart's 
 best greetings to all my friends in Eng- 
 land. I have often felt a longing to see 
 that country, the literature of which has so 
 
204 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 remarkably enriched my fancy and filled 
 my heart. From my biographical sketch 
 in *' The Improvisatore," you will remember 
 how, when a little boy, I made my dolls 
 perform Shakespeare's tragedies in my 
 little thea're, though I certainly did not 
 understand them. No poet has since in- 
 terested me more than Walter Scott. 
 When I first arrived in Copenhagen, often 
 walking about poor and forlorn, without 
 sufficient money for a meal, I have spent 
 the few pence I possessed to obtain from a 
 library one of Walter Scott's novels, and, 
 reading it, forgot hunger and cold, and felt 
 myself rich and happy. How much I ad- 
 mire Bulwer ! How I should like to shake 
 the hand of " Boz." When I read his 
 books I often think I have seen such things, 
 and feel I could write like that. Do not 
 misunderstand me ; and if you are a friend 
 of '' Boz," and he sees these lines, he will not 
 consider it presumption ; but I do not know 
 how better to express myself, than to say, 
 that what completely captivates me, seems 
 to become part of myself. As the wind 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 205 
 
 whistles round his bell-rope I have often 
 heard it whistle on a cold, wet, autumn 
 afternoon, and the chirp of the cricket I 
 remember well in the cosy corner of my 
 parent's humble room. 
 
 I love England for its poets. I have 
 often felt a great longing to go there. If 
 I were physically stronger than I am at 
 present, I think I should better enjoy a 
 short stay in London. I have a great 
 desire to go there next year, and I think I 
 shall. 
 
 I have some idea of you personally, and 
 feel that I may consider you as a friend. I 
 saw your portrait in an English journal. 
 
 Each journey is to me a spiritual bath — 
 I return stronger and fresher. No journey, 
 no year of my life, has been happier, more full 
 of sunshine, than the last. Oh! you do not 
 know how amiable they have been to me 
 in Germany, — princes, artists, — yes, I have 
 seen and felt all there that is noble in man. 
 As in the middle ages the troubadour wan- 
 dered from court to court, so wandered 
 I, and wherever I went smiles met me. 
 
206 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 House after house was opened to me, and 
 in most I was nearly at home. I have 
 reason to love all mankind. 
 
 I can make myself understood in Germany, 
 but unfortunately such will not be the 
 case when I go to London. I do not 
 know English, but I am going to begin 
 to learn ; and though I am but a poor 
 linguist, I have a kind of gift of getting 
 through a conversation with what few words 
 of a foreign language I know. And you, 
 I presume, speak German ? 
 
 I am very busy writing a new novel. 
 I live a free, independent life ; my wants 
 are not many. I have true-hearted, dear 
 friends in Denmark, whom I love with all 
 my soul. My enlightened and noble King, 
 whom I love, is most gracious to me. 
 
 From Germany I have many glorious 
 tidings, and also from England ! I assure 
 you, when I glance back upon my career, 
 the past preaches to me of God and His 
 love, and teaches me more than any 
 clergyman ever did yet. 
 
 Remember me kindly to Ainsworth. I 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 20/ 
 
 thank him that he so kindly remembers 
 our journey, and the days we spent In 
 quarantine. He is a most amiable English- 
 man. I appreciate several of his country- 
 men whom I have met. When I wrote 
 '' The Bazaar," I certainly did not think 
 that any of my writings would be trans- 
 lated into English, or I might, perhaps, 
 not have written ''Vetturln Relsen," with 
 the intolerable Englishman ; but if you had 
 known that man, and suffered as I suffered 
 with him, — I have never yet told any 
 one, — you would find I had not been too 
 hard on him. 
 
 While I am talking about '' The Bazaar," 
 I must protest against an accusation brought 
 against me in one of your articles on the 
 book. God knows you have said more 
 good for me than I deserve, but you state 
 something which is not correct, — viz., that 
 I am always against the Jews. Now, that 
 Is not so. I have seen how often they 
 were unjustly treated. I feel quite as 
 warmly towards them as Cumberland did 
 when he wrote his immortal drama. You 
 
208 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEn's 
 
 must do me justice — I deserve it. You 
 cannot point out one passage in which I 
 have uttered any ill-feeling against that 
 gifted but unfortunate people. 
 
 But this has grown a long letter, and, 
 no doubt, as it is my first to you, may 
 seem a funny, rambling production ; but I 
 already consider you half an acquaintance 
 — one of those friends in a land where 
 people feel kindly towards me, and whither 
 1 am longing to go. Let me soon have 
 the pleasure of receiving a few lines from 
 you, that I may know you have read and 
 understood this. 
 
 Pray give my kindest regards to Mary 
 Howitt, and my thanks and gratitude to 
 all who feel kindly towards me. — With 
 greatest esteem, yours truly, 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 2O9 
 
 Andersen to the Grand- Duke of Weimar. 
 Copenhagen, \2th May 1847. 
 
 The carrier pigeon from Weimar will 
 not fail to arrive if I post my letter, 
 which can only say, — I am entirely devoted 
 to you. 
 
 I am now at home, and feel very happy, 
 for every one is good to me. I meet only 
 friendly eyes. The Queen has written a 
 very pretty poem In my album ; and what 
 surprised, as much as it delighted me, is 
 that the dear, good King also wrote a few 
 lines in it, dated 2nd April, my birthday : 
 
 " To achieve an honourable position for oneself by well- 
 applied talent is better than gifts and favour. These lines 
 will bring to your remembrance your well-wisher, 
 
 " Christian R. 
 
 Is not that nice of the King? He is 
 so good, so noble, I like him exceedingly. 
 I took leave of their Majesties to-day. 
 The Queen was not quite well, but yet so 
 
2 10 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 gracious as to receive me. Her Majesty 
 told me that the King had just finished 
 reading my *' Improvisatore." He read it 
 aloud, as well as '' The Fairy Tale of My 
 Life." 
 
 The King said that if I went to Lon- 
 don, and found it too expensive for me, 
 I was" not to allow myself to be em- 
 barrassed, but to write to him. This, I 
 think, was very kind and good of him ; 
 but one should not avail oneself of such 
 generosity when it is unnecessary. I re- 
 plied that I did not get into money diffi- 
 culties, that could not always receive 
 favours, and should rely upon my own 
 resources as much as I could, that T was 
 grateful for the offer, but did not need 
 money. I only begged that his Majesty 
 would allow me to write to him as to 
 how I got on, and what I thought of 
 London. He gave the permission most 
 kindly and amiably. King Christian is so 
 ^ood, so cultured, so intellectual, that one 
 must Jove him ; the Queen also is a 
 noble woman. If your Royal Highness 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 2 I I 
 
 only came to Denmark you would say 
 the same. 
 
 I am going, to-morrow, to see his Ex- 
 cellency Count Moltke, at Fiinen, where I 
 shall remain nearly a fortnight, then I 
 shall go quickly vivL Hamburg to Amster- 
 dam and The Hague. My writings have 
 all been translated into Dutch, so that I 
 know I have friends In Holland, but I am 
 unacquainted with any of them, and be- 
 sides, have only two letters of intro- 
 duction, — one to Baron von Maltez and 
 the other to Professor Froelick, I shall 
 be pleased to see the country where your 
 Royal Highness's Consort spent her child- 
 hood, for then I shall be able to talk to 
 her Royal Highness about her fatherland. 
 
 My destination is really London. I 
 was never there, but my writings have 
 been most warmly received in England. 
 I shall also meet '' the LInd," and make 
 the acquaintance of Dickens, and perhaps 
 Bulwer. The English newspapers have 
 promised me a friendly reception. In 
 London, I am told, it will be asked in 
 
212 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 the upper circles, — *' By whom is he in- 
 troduced ? " I shall, therefore, take with 
 me various letters of recommendation ; 
 Prince Ernest, the English minister, and 
 several others have given me introduc- 
 tions to take with me. I hope to ex- 
 perience much pleasure there. I should 
 like to talk to Prince Albert and see the 
 Queen. I am expecting the best letter 
 of introduction from your Royal High- 
 ness. I may, may I not ? You, my dear 
 friend, would not wish me to go to Eng- 
 land without your distinguished protection. 
 Will your Royal Highness give me a letter 
 to Prince Albert? At Hamburg, at the 
 end of this month, I hope to find, 
 poste restante, 3. letter for me from 
 the Danish post-office, enclosing a letter 
 to his Royal Highness Prince Albert. 
 The House of Weimar is so nearly 
 related to the Queen of England that I 
 venture to beg this of your Royal High- 
 ness, and trust you will not be angry. 
 To the Duchess of Orleans your Royal 
 Highness once promised me an intro- 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 213 
 
 ductlon, but that can come afterwards. 
 Just at the present time letters of recom- 
 mendation in England are of more moment 
 to me. 
 
 I have a longing for travel ; the spring 
 air has quickened my desire for change of 
 scene. The beech trees with us are green, 
 and the sun warm. I must be off! 
 
 Remember me kindly to the excellent 
 Hereditary Grand- Duchess and your ex- 
 alted parents. May every happiness and 
 joy be yours. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 P.S. — At Hamburg, at the end of this 
 month, I shall find, pos^e restante, shall I not, 
 your Royal Highness's letter ? 
 
 Andersen to the Grand- Duke of Weimar. 
 
 London, i^thjuly 1847. 
 
 I HOPE your Royal Highness is safe at 
 home once more at Weimar, where the 
 
2 14 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 little Prince Karl August is smiling and 
 talking. The green forests at Ettersburg 
 smile also — one's native land is the best 
 after all. I am still in London, and re- 
 main here for nearly another fortnight ; 
 I am then going to Scotland, and at the 
 end of August shall be in Weimar for three 
 or four days, after which I return to Den- 
 mark, where I must finish the new novel 
 before Christmas. 
 
 I learned that your Royal Highness had 
 left, and thought of you with the deepest 
 affection ; but I knew and understood how 
 many claims there were on the last moments 
 of your time, and never doubted your 
 friendship in the least, although we could 
 not see each other. Mon Dieic ! my own 
 time is so much taken up that I scarcely 
 know what to do with it or myself. 
 
 London, and not Paris, is the capital of 
 the world. In London, Rome is always 
 before my mind on account of the con- 
 trast : the two cities might represent the 
 terrestrial globe : Rome the night — the grand, 
 majestic night — and London the day, — life 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 2 I 5 
 
 In its fulness and its hurry. At Lady 
 Blesslngton's I made the acquaintance of 
 Dickens. He wrote from the country, " I 
 must see Andersen," and we met at the 
 house of the above-named lady. He Is 
 just what I thought he would be. We 
 understood each other at once, clasped 
 each other's hands, and talked English — I, 
 unfortunately, not well ; but, as I said be- 
 fore, we understood each other. Dickens 
 gives a breakfast next week. Bulwer I 
 have not yet seen : he is in the country, 
 but will be back, I hope, before my de- 
 parture. At the Blesslngton's everything 
 was very splendid and sumptuous : fine pic- 
 tures, statues, and flowers. Count d'Orsay 
 was very jolly and amiable. The eldest 
 son of Lord Wellington sat beside me ; 
 it made a peculiar impression on me, a 
 Wellington at the table, and opposite to 
 him Napoleon's picture, life size, illumin- 
 ated by the lamps. The Atheneeum Club, 
 the first club in London, have accepted 
 me, as a distinguished traveller, for two 
 months' membership. Everywhere, and by 
 
2l6 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 all classes, I have received so respectful 
 and hearty a welcome that I scarcely know 
 what to think of it. 
 
 Unfortunately I am not at all well, my 
 body cannot bear the strain, and I was 
 not very strong when I came here. How 
 kindly I and my biography have been re- 
 ceived you will see, my exalted friend, 
 from the accompanying^ printed enclosure. 
 Verdi's new opera, founded on Schiller's 
 ** Robber," is only a success through Jenny 
 Lind. She does not care for the music, 
 and was scarcely willing for me to hear 
 it ; still I am going next Thursday. I 
 have not been at the opera since the 
 evening we met there, exalted Sir, when 
 I was ill, and obliged to leave, not 
 being able to stand the heat. 1 fear this 
 journey and stay in London is bad for my 
 health ; it would have been wiser to have 
 taken sea baths and kept myself quiet. 
 This letter has also a kind of malady, — the 
 mistakes are as thick as leaves. That comes, 
 too, of residence in London, as lately I am 
 always speaking English, and then I for- 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 217 
 
 get my German altogether ; still I hope 
 that your Royal Highness may be able to 
 discern the thoughts. 
 
 To you alone, my dear friend, could I 
 venture to send a letter like the first one ; 
 you think more of my affection and de- 
 votion than correctness of diction. 
 
 Remember me most respectfully to the 
 Hereditary Grand-Duchess, and your ex- 
 alted parents. If I may hope for another 
 letter in London, it would be better to ad- 
 dress it to the Danish Embassy ; otherwise 
 I trust to hear from your Royal Highness 
 at Frankfort-on-Main, poste restante. 
 
 With best wishes for your happiness, my 
 dear, dear friend, 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to King Christian VIII. of 
 Denmark, 
 
 August 1847.1 
 
 Most Gracious King, — On my depar- 
 ture your Majesty was kind and gracious 
 
 } Written probably from London. 
 
2l8 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 enough to grant me the permission to write 
 you a letter and relate how I got on. I know 
 that you will not regard either the form 
 or the expression. I may therefore speak 
 direct from my heart. I am getting on 
 wonderfully well. I never dreamt of so 
 much honour and happiness. I was almost 
 afraid it would make me appear awkward, 
 for the whole thing humbles me. In 
 Holland, nearly all my works have been 
 "translated, and, as it seems, are much 
 liked. 
 
 In The Hague, where I only stayed four 
 days, they prepared a fete in my honour at 
 the Hotel de 1' Europe, where savants and 
 artists gave me a welcome. Many agree- 
 able toasts were proposed, stress was laid 
 on your Majesty's kindness to me, and 
 Collin's fatherly interest. My biography 
 had just appeared in Dutch, and they 
 therefore knew all my bt^nefactors. The 
 conversation turned on the former histori- 
 cal relations of Denmark and Holland, of 
 the similarity of the languages, and of the 
 importance of our literature, and they were 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 2ig 
 
 all Inexpressibly kind to me. 1 felt greatly- 
 moved. 
 
 Holland itself Is a garden of flowers — 
 everything seems to be in Sunday attire, 
 even the church bells induce the belief 
 that every day is a fete. 
 
 From Rotterdam I took a steamer to 
 London, where a thunderstorm, the grand- 
 est I have ever seen, impressed and 
 startled me more than the flight of the 
 ships and the great commotion around 
 me. 
 
 When I am in London I always think 
 of Rome. Both these towns in their con- 
 trast have yet something in common : 
 Rome is the night, the great majestic 
 night — London is the day, the busy day. 
 I do not notice the smoke ; the sun shines 
 in upon me, and I see all the stars nearly 
 every evening. 
 
 Count Reventlow^ is untiring in his at- 
 tentions to me, and by him I was taken to 
 Lord Palmerston's on the third evening 
 after my arrival, where I was kindly 
 
 ^ Danish ambassador in London. 
 
220 HANS C. ANDERSEN S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 received. There I met my friend the 
 Hereditary Grand-Duke of Saxe-Weimar, 
 who introduced me to many circles, and all 
 were acquainted with my works. At last 
 I was quite surrounded, and ''The Im- 
 provisatore," "'The Ugly Duckling," ''The 
 Red Shoe," and nearly all my books, were 
 named, and praised too highly. I also re- 
 ceived many invitations, and am suddenly, 
 as Reventlow says, plunged into the fashion- 
 able world of London. For a whole fort- 
 night I have received invitations for every 
 day and every evening. It is interesting 
 to me to see the life and to move in these 
 circles, though *' move " is hardly the right 
 word, for there is scarcely room to turn 
 round. 
 
 On the birthday of Her Majesty the 
 Queen I was at a ball at Lady Paulet's, 
 where the people literally stood like rose 
 leaves in a press. 
 
 Lord Castlereagh, Lady Stanley, and 
 many, many others I should be obliged 
 to name if I wished to indicate those 
 who have shown me hospitality. Hofrath 
 
LORD PALMERSTON. 
 
HANS C. ANDERSEN S CORRESPONDENCE. 223 
 
 Hambro took me to his estate, and his son 
 has invited me to Scotland. Jenny Lind 
 Is Hke a good sister to me, and through 
 her I have been enabled to visit the opera. 
 
 The Prussian ambassador, Bunsen, has 
 also shown great interest in me, and the 
 Hereditary Grand- Duke of Saxe-Weimar 
 received me at Marlborouofh House so 
 kindly and affectionately. Oh, I love him 
 with my whole heart! 
 
 With respect to my future writings, I 
 hope to arrange with a publisher here, 
 so that I may obtain some profit in Eng- 
 land ; for it Is a fact that my books are 
 greatly read In this country. My portrait 
 hangs next to Jenny LInd's in the shop 
 windows. But I am rattling on and telling 
 everything that concerns and touches me. 
 Your Majesty will read between the lines 
 of this letter into my heart, and I may 
 therefore venture to send it. 
 
 \Tks conclusion of this letter is missing.~\ 
 
2 24 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 Andersen to the Grand-Duke of Weimar, 
 
 Frankfort, 4M September 1847. 
 
 Your kind letter reached me just after 
 my return from Scotland. Ah, if I could 
 only adequately reciprocate your kindness, 
 my dear, exalted friend ! In England and 
 Scotland I have received so much apprecia- 
 tion, or rather over-rating, so much amiable 
 kindness, that it turns my head to think of 
 it. It was so excessive that I could bear 
 it no longer, and at last, in Scotland, I be- 
 came so nervous and exhausted, that I was 
 obliged to return, and could not go to Loch 
 Laggan, where His Royal Highness Prince 
 Albert had graciously invited me. I regret 
 it very much, and my only consolation is 
 that he will receive me if I come to Eng- 
 land again. 
 
 My readers in England and Scotland are 
 more numerous than I could have believed. 
 Every one has shown me much friendli- 
 ness ; it has touched me deeply, so sunk 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 225 
 
 Into my heart, that I could not help weep- 
 ing. I will relate several Instances of It to 
 your Royal Highness. 
 
 I returned to London as quickly as pos- 
 sible, and then to the Continent, reaching 
 Frankfort late yesterday evening. If I re- 
 main here quietly I shall soon be stronger, 
 and able to go to Weimar on Wednesday. 
 I can only stay there a few days, as I must 
 be In Leipzig on account of the publication 
 of the collected edition of my novels, and 
 then I shall set out for home to finish the 
 new novel. Bentley offered me three- 
 hundred thalers ^ for It. 
 
 But I shall soon see your Royal Highness 
 In Weimar. I hope you are not away. 
 W^hat pleasure It gives me to see and talk 
 to you ! How I think of you when my 
 name sounds well In the world ! 
 
 In London a bust has been made of 
 Jenny LInd and myself ; both are wonder- 
 ful. If I were rich I would have brought 
 them to your Royal Highness In marble, 
 but, unfortunately, I was unable to do so. 
 
 1 A thaler is 3s., so this would be ^^45. 
 
2 26 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEn's 
 
 An article on the busts is in the " Literary 
 Gazette ; " I enclose it in this letter. 
 
 Dickens walked from Ramsgate (three 
 English miles) to take leave of me. He 
 was the last to say farewell to me in 
 England. 
 
 And now for Weimar. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to the Grand-Duke of Weimar. 
 
 Copenhagen, 3^ October 1847. 
 
 I AM home again In the old street, in 
 the old house. The same people are pass- 
 ing to and fro, the carts are rolling along, 
 — everything is going on in the old track ; 
 I myself am making the usual visits, at- 
 tending the theatre, and sitting alone once 
 more in my own room, as if nothing had 
 happened; and yet my head and heart are 
 so full. It is with me as after a great 
 ball, the music still sounding in my ears. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 2 2? 
 
 my thoughts Hke dashing waves. I can 
 find no rest. I have been at home now 
 for eight days already, and yet have done 
 nothing at all, not even written letters — 
 this is the first one — and now I hope with 
 this inauguration of the pen, that, from to- 
 day forth, a great deal will be written, and 
 the new novel will burst into bloom. 
 
 Immediately after my arrival I was in- 
 vited by the King and Queen to a concert 
 at the Castle Sorgenfrei ; the exalted pair 
 have taken me up with such warm cor- 
 diality. I wish your Royal Highness knew 
 them both ! you would like them so much. 
 But perhaps the Swedish journey may take 
 place next summer, and then we shall see 
 each other in Denmark. The prettiest 
 way to King Oscar's land lies through 
 the Danish beechwoods. There may again 
 be a beautiful summer like the last, which 
 was a marvel to me. 
 
 My stay in Holland, England, and Scot- 
 land floats before me like a phantasy 
 woven of joy and sunshine, and at the 
 close come the beautiful days at Etters- 
 
2 28 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 burg, with our reunion, our life together 
 there, and our parting. Yes, yes, my 
 noble friend, I love you as a man can 
 only love the noblest and best. This time 
 I felt that you were still more ardent, more 
 affectionate to me. Every little trait is 
 preserved in my heart. On that cool 
 evening, when you took your cloak and 
 threw it around me, it warmed not only my 
 body, but made my heart glow still more 
 ardently. 
 
 Many of the exalted family are now at 
 sylvan Ettersburg ; your Royal sister is 
 there, — recall me to her gracious remem- 
 brance, also to your exalted parents ; and may 
 I hope that your Royal Highness will present 
 my most respectful thanks and greeting to the 
 excellent Hereditary Grand-Duchess. 
 
 Our morning chats at the coffee-table 
 were charming. The wreath, made by the 
 clever, amiable young ladies, I have hung 
 over Thorwaldsen's statue. The colour is 
 still in every leaf, the sun is shining on it 
 at this moment, the flowers are as fresh as 
 the memories. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 2 29 
 
 All my dear friends at Copenhagen I 
 have found well. My dear Collin, who has 
 now become " Excellency," and whom I 
 love as a father, seems strong and well as 
 ever; may he long remain so. It is beauti- 
 ful autumn weather, and that also raises 
 my spirits. The sea voyage here was like 
 a summer passage. The captain w^as very 
 kind In his attention to me: I had a cabin 
 entirely to myself Among the passengers 
 were many Germans, all friends of my muse. 
 The sea trip passed off very pleasantly. 
 
 The poems and the dramatic pieces are 
 soon coming. I am rejoicing that your 
 Royal Highness will hear these pulsations 
 of my heart. I am curious to know how 
 ''Raphaella" will impress Herr von Zleg- 
 war, and if this tragedy will suit the Weimar 
 stage. 
 
 And now may you be happy. 
 
 H. C. Andersen, 
 
230 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 Andersen to the Grand-Duke of Weimar. 
 Copenhagen, 4M May 1848. 
 
 How thoughtful of you to write me. 
 I received the letter somewhat late, but, 
 if it had not come at all, I should yet have 
 known that I was not forgotten. 
 
 The agitations which are passing through 
 the lands I feel to my finger tips. Den- 
 mark, my native country, and Germany, 
 where there are so many whom I love, are 
 standing opposite to each other in enmity ! 
 Your Royal Highness will be able to feel 
 how all that pains me ! I believe so firmly 
 in the nobility of all men, and feel certain 
 that if they only understood each other, 
 everything would blossom in peace. Yet 
 I did not wish to speak of politics, they stand 
 far from me like a strange, distant cloud ; 
 but now they have spread over all Europe, 
 and their sharp mist penetrates every 
 member, and one breathes nothing but 
 politics. 
 
 Times of distress, however, bring forth 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 23 1 
 
 SO much that Is good ; here in Denmark 
 is a unity and self-sacrifice which is ex- 
 tremely touching. How is it in Weimar? 
 When shall we meet, my noble friend ? 
 Perhaps never more ! And as I think this, 
 all the dear memories of every hour of 
 our life together, the cordiality of our meet- 
 ings flash through my mind, and my heart 
 melts. 
 
 Thanks for your noble friendship ! 
 When this greeting reaches your hands, 
 may you feel in it the pulsations of my 
 heart. God orrant that a better state of 
 things may soon come about. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to Frmc von Eisendecker in 
 Oldenhtrg, 
 
 Copenhagen, October 1848. 
 
 Dear Frau von Eisendecker, — After 
 roaming about the islands of Fiinen and 
 Zeeland, I am now^ quietly sitting in a 
 corner of Copenhagen, but a corner in 
 
232 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 which I can look over the sea to the 
 Swedish coast, and see the ships go to and 
 fro ; and here at last I have received a 
 letter from you. I was rejoiced at the 
 sight of the handwriting, for I recognised 
 the hand of a dear friend in a hostile 
 country, a peaceful friend whom I have 
 not seen for a long time. We will not 
 talk of politics. I hope that the battle 
 smoke will soon disappear, and that the 
 sun will shine peacefully on the country 
 aorain ! 
 
 One point I must touch upon. In speak- 
 ing of the Schleswig-Holstein prisoners of 
 war, you say that the manner in which they 
 are treated by us is shocking, and contrary 
 to the spirit of our times. I am delighted 
 to be able to refer you to the last July 
 number of a German Journal, '' The Leip- 
 ziger Illustriter Zeitung." There you will 
 find a faithful account by a German of 
 the treatment of the prisoners, and I beg 
 you to read it. Promise me you will. I 
 place it before you as a duty ! The prison- 
 ships lie in the shelter of the harbour, 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 233 
 
 looking on to the Sound. The steamers pass 
 closely every day, and thus there is life 
 and chano^e. I could choose no more 
 beautiful spot for myself. The prisoners 
 have several hours every day in which 
 they can walk by the sea or bathe. They 
 were also allowed to go into the town and 
 visit pleasure resorts; but they abused their 
 liberty ; and some of them, for example, 
 sang "Schleswig-Holstein Meerumschlun- 
 gen " in public places, which is, to speak 
 mildly, unwise, and cannot be permitted 
 just now on account of the necessity of 
 maintaining peace and order. But most 
 German papers put in false statements 
 about Denmark, and represent matters 
 in a false and bad light — a policy which 
 must anger every noble German who is 
 rightly acquainted with the circumstances. 
 
 Germany has shown me so much kind- 
 ness, so many people live there to whom 
 I cling with love and gratitude, that my 
 heart suffers during the war, and I suffer 
 as a Dane when I see the shoals of lies 
 that are circulated about us in the world, 
 
2 34 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 I am convinced that Germany will see this her- 
 self before very long, for truth will conquer. 
 
 I have written the text of an opera for 
 Glaser, the German composer of " Adler's 
 Horst." He will soon have finished his 
 work, and thinks of producing it in October. 
 From this you will see how peacefully 
 Germans and Danes work together in the 
 kingdom of art. 
 
 Greet your dear children : tell little Tuck 
 that he shall receive an English box from me 
 containing his and Gustave's story. One 
 of my friends was on the island of Alsen a 
 short time ago, and went over to Duppel, 
 where all the houses were shattered and 
 riddled with cannon balls and grape shot, 
 and yet on one house stood the symbol of 
 peace, — a stork's nest containing the whole 
 stork family. The heavy firing and the 
 smoke had not chased the parents from 
 their young, which were not yet able to fly. 
 
 Give my kind regards to His Excellency 
 when. . . \The end is vtissing]. 
 
 H. C. Andersen, 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 235 
 
 Andersen to the Grand- Dttke of Weimar, 
 
 Copenhagen, 16/// October 1848. 
 
 I AM in Copenhagen again. 
 
 The Princess Juliane has sent me, through 
 Prince Ernest,^ a greeting from dear Weimar, 
 from you, and your amiable Consort. My 
 best thanks for being so much in your 
 thoughts ; you know how firmly and affec- 
 tionately you occupy mine, my dear, exalted 
 friend. If we shall ever see each other 
 again, and when and where, only God 
 knows ! 
 
 Deep waves of blood are rolling over the 
 realms in this year of horror. I fear we 
 shall never see each other again here upon 
 earth. No, no, it cannot be so ! 
 
 In Copenhagen all is now calm and 
 quiet, God be thanked. Count Thun, from 
 Vienna, who is here on his way to Stock- 
 holm as ambassador, called to see me, and 
 said it was to him as if he had entered a 
 
 ^ Prince Ernest of Hesse-Philippsthal-Barschfeld, who 
 lived in Copenhagen. 
 
236 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 haven of peace ; the Landgraf WIlHam 
 also made the same remark. In fact 
 everything is going on here in the good 
 old v^ay, except that the v^orld of art and 
 poetry must stand in the background. 
 And yet good and honest work is being 
 done. 
 
 Oehlenschlager has presented us with a 
 new tragedy, — a highly interesting piece, 
 — which was received with great applause. 
 The poet is now nearly 68-9 years old. 
 He blossoms in perpetual youth. The 
 new tragedy is called " Kjartan and 
 Gudrun." The plot is laid in Ireland. 
 Thorwaldsen's ancestor, Oluf Paa, figures 
 in it. 
 
 My new novel, " The two Baronesses," 
 will be published next by Lord of Leipzig 
 in the German edition. I have written 
 to my publisher that he must immediately 
 — I hope in three or four weeks — forward 
 your Royal Highness a copy. Lord has 
 started a newspaper, which is to record 
 the movements in science, literature, and 
 art in the North with truth and impar- 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 237 
 
 tiallty. He has a good staff of con- 
 tributors ; I wish him many readers. I 
 am now expecting here the Swedish 
 authoress, Fredericka Bremer. I hope 
 this visit will have an intellectual result. 
 The Swedes have a firmer place in my 
 heart since I spent so many interesting 
 days with them at Fiinen. Old Count 
 Moltke at Glorup had a Swedish detach- 
 ment quartered on him, consisting of a 
 colonel, eight officers, a chaplain, a sur- 
 geon, and forty bandsmen, besides a large 
 number of soldiers. There is great dis- 
 cipline in the Swedish army ; the officers 
 are all cultured and mostly talented men 
 (I met a pianist among them, a friend of 
 Liszt). Every day the band played 
 during dinner, and there were promenade 
 concerts for the whole neighbourhood in 
 the long avenues of the garden. On Sun- 
 day there was another Swedish custom, 
 an open-air service for the soldiers in 
 the yard of the large court-house at 
 Glorup, an observance dating from the 
 time of Gustavus Adolphus. They sang 
 
238 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEn's 
 
 their psalms with orchestral accompaniment. 
 The chaplain preached from the top of 
 the high stone staircase ; but the most 
 edifying of all spectacles was the perform- 
 ance of their devotions, morning and 
 evening, in the public highway. The regi- 
 ment paraded, a non-commissioned officer 
 read the prayers, then all sang the psalms 
 without accompaniment. Your Royal High- 
 ness remembers how touchingly Jenny Lind 
 sang those psalms when we were together 
 one morning at Countess Rederen's ; not 
 less effective was this chanting in the 
 public road beneath God's sunshine. Old 
 peasants, with folded hands and uncovered 
 heads, stood as thoughtful listeners behind 
 the hedges. The Swedes are now gone. 
 I accompanied them to their place of 
 embarkation at Nyborg. General Dalstrom 
 invited me to visit him ; indeed I have 
 had many invitations, and shall probably 
 accept some of them if I live and the 
 world still exists. I have a great desire 
 to go to Tornea in Finland in the spring, 
 and see the midnight sun. Southwards 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 239 
 
 I can scarcely go myself ; my carrier 
 pigeon must therefore fly with greetings 
 to my loved ones, if only the winter does 
 not place barriers which cannot be flown 
 over : if the steamboat traffic ceases, no 
 intercourse is to be thought of. Whilst 
 Denmark faithfully and conscientiously ful- 
 fils every condition of the armistice, this 
 is far from being the case in the Duchies. 
 If it continues longer, which I really cannot 
 believe, then we shall have no postal con- 
 nection in winter at all. But I will not 
 distress myself; negotiations are like the 
 wind, — they veer round in the direction 
 that one least expects. In every German 
 newspaper I look for Weimar as if it 
 were a second home. God keep and bless 
 you, my noble friend. Something good 
 will doubtless emanate from these dark, 
 sanguinary times, but when ? 
 
 Liszt, according to the newspapers, is 
 engaged to the Princess Wittgenstein in 
 Weimar. If that be so, I send him my 
 congratulations. 
 
 Remember me to your Royal Consort 
 
240 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 and your exalted parents. Greetings to 
 Count and Countess Beust, Frau von 
 Gross, Eckermann, Fraulein von Kloss, 
 and every one. Beaulleu Is no longer in 
 Weimar I hear, but I do not know where 
 he is. 
 
 As soon as the Illustrated edition of 
 the fairy tales is out, I will send the col- 
 lection to the little Prince Karl August. 
 
 In thought I am almost every day at 
 
 Ettersbur^ and Weimar, and then every 
 
 thing is robed in summer verdure : the 
 
 sun shines, and kind eyes look towards 
 
 me. May God permit it to be so in 
 
 reality. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to the Gi^and-Duke of Weimar, 
 Bregentved, 3IJ/ December 1848. 
 
 From Bregentved, where I have been 
 celebrating Christmas with the Count 
 William Moltke, my litde carrier pigeon 
 
 %^ kc-^im 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 24 1 
 
 flies over ice and snow to Ettersburg or 
 Weimar, or to wherever you are staying, 
 my noble friend ! The pigeon should 
 have gone before, but I was commissioned 
 to write a new gala-play for the hundredth 
 jubilee of the Royal Theatre, and this has 
 occupied my thoughts and all my time. 
 I sincerely hope that the two youngest 
 children of my fancy — "The Two Baron- 
 esses" — have conveyed their father's heartiest 
 greetings. My illustrated fairy tales will also 
 have lain upon little Prince Karl August's 
 Christmas table, according to the definite 
 instructions which I gave my publisher. 
 This solemn, destroying year has not yet 
 passed away, but a few hours of it still 
 remain, and in these my letter flies to you, 
 my dear Royal friend. It will reach you at 
 the New Year, with greetings and wishes 
 that the coming year may be brighter and 
 better. Favour me soon with a few lines, 
 and tell me then what impression my new 
 novel, "The Two Baronesses," has made 
 upon you: I regard it as my most finished 
 
 work. 
 
 Q 
 
242 HANS CHRISrrAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 The above-mentioned little grala- play- 
 has made a great hit. I have called it 
 ''The Ground-work of Art," and I have 
 laid the scenes at the vSeat of war. A 
 sculptor and a poet come forward as 
 soldiers. The first has Holberg's comedy 
 in his knapsack : he speaks of the way 
 Holberg had pictured all men and all 
 time, and gives some fragments as an 
 example. The poet speaks with enthusi- 
 asm of Oehlenschlager. By this discourse 
 on the hundredth anniversary of the theatre 
 the attention of the audience was directed 
 from the seat of war to art. The poet 
 expounds how Denmark's power lay not 
 in the sword, but in the might of her 
 intellect. He says that this is revealed in 
 the blocks of marble, and through Tycho 
 Brahe from the stars: Danish literature 
 is the ground-work of language. Later his 
 Valkyre appears to him ; she strengthens 
 his belief, and predicts prosperity for art 
 and science in Denmark. In the distance 
 one hears battle songs and the thunder 
 of cannon ; but her prophecy allows this 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 243 
 
 sign of the fleeting moments to pass un- 
 noticed. 
 
 Miss Bremer is here in Copenhagen. 
 She has finished two novelettes, the plots 
 of which are laid in Germany and Finland 
 respectively. She is an exceedingly amiable 
 lady, with a gentle disposition and a kind, 
 open heart ; in short, a benevolent spirit. 
 We spoke lately of your Royal Highness 
 in Weimar — she knows how dear you are 
 to me. Weimar and what Weimar contains 
 are also dear to her as to every poet heart. 
 
 Recall me to the gracious remembrance 
 of Her Royal Highness the Hereditary 
 Grand- Duchess and your Royal parents. 
 My most cordial New Year's greeting to 
 all my friends about you. but the most 
 heartfelt and best to yourself, my dear 
 exalted friend. God bless you. 
 
 H. C. Andersen, 
 
244 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 Andersen to the Grand-Dtike of Weimar, 
 Trollhatte in Sweden, \Zth August 1849. 
 
 From the extreme north, on the boun- 
 dary of Lapland, I have just reached here. 
 I left Denmark in the spring, where I was 
 useless in the struggle for victory, and 
 have travelled through Sweden, have been 
 up at Dalkarlien where no thunder of 
 cannon resounds. Happy, politically-defined 
 Sweden, with its secure boundaries ! Three 
 years ago I dreamt of undertaking the 
 journey to Stockholm with you, but what 
 a change has now come over everything ! 
 I travelled alone, but you were in my 
 thoughts — yes, I may say daily in my 
 thoughts — with melancholy and sadness. 
 Oh, you scarcely know how highly I rate 
 you, how firmly you have grown into my 
 heart ! I have only rightly understood that 
 this summer. I have received no answer 
 to my last letter which I wrote to you in 
 the spring. I afterwards heard that a con- 
 tingent of Weimar troops had marched to 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 245 
 
 the north, and finally I read that your Royal 
 Highness had yourself gone to the seat of 
 war. I understood the circumstances, and 
 sorrowed deeply on account of them, but 
 could write no more. But now the pro- 
 clamations of peace are ringing in my ears, 
 I may follow the wishes of my heart and 
 send this letter to my friend. In the far 
 north of Sweden I received the news so 
 late, and am only now listening to the 
 sound of the joy-bells. I can see you again, 
 and look into your honest, affectionate eyes. 
 You have certainly experienced sad days 
 this summer, my noble friend. I, on the 
 other hand, have flown as if from fete to 
 fete in this splendid Sweden. My writings, 
 too, are known here among the people, and 
 I have been received as an old friend. They 
 express great sympathy for my struggling 
 fatherland, and their enthusiasm is loud and 
 hearty : it has moved me deeply. I have 
 spent several weeks in Stockholm, and the 
 Royal family have been kind and highly 
 gracious to me. The King has a noble 
 heart ; I felt the greatest confidence in him. 
 
246 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 We spoke of you, my noble friend, and I 
 was pleased to hear him express himself to- 
 wards you with so much cordiality. At 
 Prince Gustavus's, also, the conversation 
 several times turned upon you. I much 
 appreciate this intellectual young man, he is 
 so good and amiable. 
 
 The Crown Prince, too, met me in a very 
 friendly manner. The Queen even held out 
 her hand to me as a sign of special favour. 
 I was several times invited to the Royal 
 table, and by the King himself to the grand 
 manoeuvres on his birthday. 
 
 The litUrateu7's, ladies and gentlemen, 
 organised an al J^^esco fete In my honour. 
 Little children strewed flowers before me, 
 they came with wreaths and garlands. I felt 
 very much embarrassed, and tried to take 
 it as a jest — a play, kissed a few of the little 
 ones, and hurried away as fast as I could. 
 
 I stayed for a whole week long at the 
 old town of Upsala. I was there with 
 Chamberlain von Veskou. whose tragedies 
 Oehlenschlager translated into German. 
 From thence I travelled up to Dalkarlien, 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 247 
 
 and beheld the glories of nature. Ah, how 
 wonderful ! The Elf valley is still more 
 beautiful than the Rhine ; it is a transparent 
 sea, which glides through eternal woodlands. 
 And what noble waterfalls ! The one at 
 Elfkarleby is still more imposing than that 
 of Schaffhausen. I have seen Fahlun's 
 deep pottery-kilns and pits, and have been 
 down into the depths of Dannemora. On 
 the return journey I was at the house of 
 King Karl Johann's old friend, good old 
 Count Saltza, who is known here as a 
 spiritualist and author : an eccentric, but a 
 noble fine man. At Motala, the place 
 where the steamships are built, I was sur- 
 prised one evening by a serenade on the 
 part of the workmen. I was received with 
 songs and rejoicings. Such a thing as that 
 is supposed to excite pride — ah, no, how 
 insignificant one is thereby ! 
 
 Later I visited Kinnakulle, by Sweden's 
 great sea-like lake, Wener. I found myself 
 comfortably situated at Count Hamilton's. 
 Nature here is a garden of flowers : the 
 mountains look like the numerous temples 
 
248 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 of India, — they form strange shapes like 
 elephants, towers, and columns. 
 
 I have now been for some days at 
 Trollhatte and am living near a waterfall 
 in the midst of a forest. I am soon going 
 to Gotheborg, where I shall find letters 
 from Denmark ; I have received none for 
 six weeks while I have been flitting about. 
 From there I shall send this letter to you. 
 You have thought of me ! Amid days of 
 carnage you have considered what was 
 passing in my mind.. My heart is entirely 
 Danish, but my true friends in Germany I 
 love still ; but now peace I Peace ! May 
 God let peace descend on the nations ! 
 
 When these lines are in your hands, 
 write soon, very soon, my dear Hereditary 
 Grand-Duke, glad and happy, from a 
 fatherland where peace also dwells. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Copenhagen, 8M September 1849. 
 
 My letter is only just going. God be 
 with you, my dear, noble sir ! I believe 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 249 
 
 in you more and more. Just read the 
 Augustenburg letters brought out by 
 Wegener. Your noble heart, and every 
 noble German heart which loves the truth, 
 will feel that Denmark is blameless and 
 good, and has suffered Injustice ; the 
 Germans will love us still more sincerely 
 on that account ! — ay, love ! To love 
 friends here, that is above all the greatest 
 and best in us ! May God let peace rest 
 on the nations. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to the Grand- Dnke of Weimar. 
 
 Copenhagen, 2yth January 1850. 
 
 Greetincx and blessing in the New 
 Year ! All is ice and snow, the way over 
 the Belt so wide and uncertain. Thought 
 flies quicker, and returns with the whole of 
 Ettersburg, Weimar, and all the dear ones. 
 My thanks for your unaltered affection 
 for me, my noble friend. 
 
250 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEn's 
 
 If I see beautiful nature, or if I am in 
 a place made sacred by remembrances, I 
 whisper to myself, — Here is room for 
 many, if only my dear ones were here 
 to share my enjoyment ! It is just the 
 same with a good book, — the more it 
 appeals to me, the more urgently I wish 
 that all could read it. This is just ncrw 
 the case with Oersted's new work, "The 
 Spirit in Nature " (a German translation 
 will soon appear). On reading this book 
 the world becomes so splendidly great, so 
 intelligible, so sacred. A circuitous but 
 interesting way, where the manifestation 
 of works is shown glorified as they 
 appear in the Bible, leads us to God. It 
 is '' Cosmos," but in a popular, concise 
 form. 
 
 I was as far as this with my letter 
 last week, my dear friend, when I was 
 interrupted — and by what } The north 
 has lost its Goethe — Oehlenschlager de- 
 parted this life on the 20th of January, 
 on the anniversary of Christian VIIl.'s 
 death, and at the same hour in the even- 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 25 I 
 
 ing ! Shortly before his demise I saw 
 him twice. He lived close to the castle ; 
 the doctors had told me that death would 
 soon follow. It was a strange coincidence 
 for me to look towards the gloomy 
 windows of the castle, and to think of 
 how, two years ago, I wandered anxiously 
 about on account of my dear, dear King, 
 and now, I was again there and concerned 
 about a King — a king of letters. His 
 death was without pain ; his sons read 
 aloud to him at his own request a scene 
 from his tragedy, '' Socrates," where the 
 latter speaks of immortality ; then he 
 spoke of his own convictions as to eternal 
 life, kissed his sons and his daughter-in- 
 law, and said that he felt comfortable, 
 and was free from pain ; then he prayed 
 that the last struggle might be easy, lay 
 down calmly, and expired. 
 
 I have seen his corpse. His illness — 
 jaundice — has given him the appearance 
 of a bronze statue, rather than that of a 
 corpse. The forehead was beautiful, youth- 
 ful, and clear. Yesterday, the 26th, the 
 
252 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 populace carried him to the grave — yes, 
 the populace in the fullest sense, for all 
 classes — officials, students, sailors, and 
 soldiers — ^joined the procession and bore 
 the coffin on the long road to " Fred- 
 eriksberg," where he was born, and where 
 he wished to be buried. The distance is 
 about two miles, but yet he was carried. 
 The real burial service was held in the 
 church of Our Lady. The Bishop of Zee- 
 land preached the funeral sermon. Old 
 Grundwig and I had written funeral 
 hymns by request. Enclosed I send your 
 Royal Highness a translation, in prose, of 
 my hymn, '* From the Shores of Copen- 
 hagen," which was sung as the funeral 
 cortege left the town. 
 
 In the Royal Theatre his death was 
 celebrated by a representation of *' Hakon 
 Jarl," and the scene from " Socrates," 
 which was read aloud to him in his last 
 hour. 
 
 The small North-star Order, which 
 Oehlenschlager had worn himself, he gave 
 me last year. In it I have a beautiful and 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 253 
 
 enduring- remembrance of him. May he 
 rest in peace ! May peace also rest upon 
 the world ! 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to the Grand- Duke of Weimar. 
 Copenhagen, ind April 1850. 
 
 It is my birthday ! I will close the 
 day by writing to my noble friend. 
 Lovely spring flowers, even roses, decorate 
 my little room ; they have all been brought 
 to me to-day as an emblem of a New 
 Year of life, with its flowers. I am forty- 
 five years old ! — how dreadfully old, and 
 yet how young I am ! I feel as if I were 
 only twenty ! My life has been luxuriant 
 and not arduous ; may the coming years 
 resemble former ones. If only I could see 
 you again, my noble friend ! This year 
 I shall only visit you in my thoughts, but 
 there I am a daily guest, 
 
2 54 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENS 
 
 My new dramatic piece, " Ole Lukoie/' 
 has now been played, and has met with 
 great appreciation. At the first repre- 
 sentation I experienced what few authors 
 have undergone in one evening. The 
 poetical spirit of the work was not under- 
 stood by the public at all, and during the 
 first and second acts they were noisy and 
 even rough ; only in the third act, they 
 began for the first time to comprehend, 
 and gradually the enormous crowd (2500 
 people) became quiet and attentive, and 
 expressed its appreciation in unanimous 
 and stormy applause and with deep 
 emotion. The later representations have 
 met with the same hearty approbation. 
 
 ** That riches are not synonymous with 
 happiness, but that real happiness consists 
 of a contented, cheerful spirit and a 
 healthy mind, is," says a critic of 
 "Ole Lukoie," ''the great lesson which 
 the poet has dressed here in a rich 
 poetical garment, a lesson which could 
 hardly find application at a more fitting 
 time than the present, when false notions 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 255 
 
 of a perfect equality in worldly circum- 
 stances for all, govern the great masses." 
 A young chimney-sweep, who has hither- 
 to lived happily and contentedly with 
 his old grandmother and his sweet- 
 heart, comes home on the evening of his 
 twentieth birthday full of all the grand- 
 eur of an aristocratic house which he 
 had seen when sweeping the flues. One 
 of the neighbours, a shopkeeper, and a 
 representative of the large number 
 who hold money to be the greatest 
 good, disturbs this quiet, idyllic life, and 
 fills the heart of the young man with a 
 mighty longing for riches and all the 
 good things of the world. 
 
 He is surprised in his brooding by 
 Ole Lukoie (the dustman, the dream- 
 god, the little Ole Lukoie, is a child in 
 a shirt and nightcap, and walks In his 
 socks), who spreads the canopy of dreams 
 over his head, and in the dream-world 
 his most ardent wishes are now fulfilled. 
 Dreaming that a fire breaks out, he 
 jumps up to help to extinguish it. As 
 
256 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 he returns, the spirit of a dead dandy 
 meets him, who, while he Hved, lost the 
 pearl of life in the gutter, and is now 
 condemned to seek it. The latter, like 
 all spirits, can easily work wonders, and 
 he grants our chimney-sweep three wishes, 
 all of which will be fulfilled. The latter 
 first wishes for some of the dandy's 
 clothes ; but as he would have to wait 
 for these till he got home, he desires 
 something that he can have at once, and 
 wishes for a lot of money. He receives 
 it, but under the condition that he re- 
 serves his third wish until the money is 
 spent, and under the restrictions and 
 consent of the spirit. The money is soon 
 gone in revelry ; and he turns for more to 
 the deceased dandy, who, however, will 
 not listen to him. He is, notwithstanding, 
 helped in other ways, and reaches the 
 happy stage of always having money 
 enough ; but the demon who procured it 
 for him, and who shows himself in the 
 person of the old shopkeeper, makes the 
 condition that, as compensation for it, he 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 257 
 
 mast never sing or rejoice any more. He 
 sees the vivacity of his youth buried (a 
 blooming rose-tree in a coffin), and plunges 
 into the whirlpool of pleasure ; but the 
 deeper he sinks in it, the more serious 
 and sad he becomes. All the evil spirits 
 that attend on riches beset his soul, and 
 show him that, instead of happiness, 
 horror follows on the steps of an ill- 
 spent life. The foster-mother of diseases, 
 and even death itself, appear. Poor 
 chimney-sweep in velvet and silk ! His 
 despair reaches the highest point ; already 
 the clouds of despondency begin to over- 
 whelm him, when he suddenly remembers 
 God. His former youth and high spirits 
 he still sees like ''shadows on the wall," 
 the songs of youth ring in his ears. Then 
 he thinks of his third wish, and stands 
 again before the spirit, to whom he ex- 
 presses his last desire — namely, the re- 
 turn of his former content and happiness 
 in the bosom of his family. He had 
 hardly finished speaking when a rose-bush 
 sprang out of the earth, and the spirit 
 
258 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEn's 
 
 plucked one rose after another — the roses 
 of content, cheerfulness, and love — and 
 threw them upon the mourner, who had 
 sunk exhausted on a step. But the step 
 vanishes, and he is sitting again in his 
 little room in the old arm-chair in which 
 he had fallen asleep, in the arms of his 
 dear ones, who awake him on his birthday 
 with a rain of roses and caresses, and he 
 arises to a new life. The dream and little 
 Ole Lukoie had both vanished. 
 
 The German translation of the piece 
 will soon be published, and then I will 
 hand it over to your Royal Highness. I 
 think it would be liked on the Weimar 
 stage. I should be glad if it brought me 
 to the remembrance of the many there 
 whose memory I cherish with love and 
 gratitude. I hope also that it will be put 
 on most of the German boards. 
 
 The winter in Copenhagen gave us a 
 pleasant variety, on the stage as well as 
 in private circles : the most splendid ball 
 was the one given by Prince Frederick.* 
 
 ^ Prince Frederick William ; later Landgraf of Hesse. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 259 
 
 At our concerts Mendelssohn's harmonies 
 were rendered in rich profusion, and now 
 the picture exhibition tempts us with its 
 world of colour. In the meantime the 
 summer comes flying on the stork's back, 
 the steamers work their way out to sea, 
 groaning ! Who would not like to go with 
 them ? 
 
 I beg you to recall me to the gracious 
 remembrance of the Hereditary Grand- 
 Duchess, and your exalted parents. To-mor- 
 row week the Crown Prince of Sweden 
 comes to Copenhagen, remains here two 
 days, and then goes to Holland ; perhaps 
 your Royal Highness is also going to The 
 Hague ? When shall we meet ? Perhaps 
 next year in Stockholm ! 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to the Grand- Duke of Weimar, 
 
 Glorup, in Funen, \2thjuly 1850. 
 
 Peace! Peace with Germany! It rings 
 through my heart. It is really like sun- 
 
26o HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 shine, like a festive Sunday ! I should 
 like to write at this moment to the many 
 who are so dear to me in Germany, and 
 with whom I have not exchanged a letter 
 for a long time, for my thoughts are flying 
 about everywhere, and yet I can only write 
 to one, and you are this one, my dear 
 exalted friend. These tidings will awaken 
 in your heart the joy they have created in 
 mine. 
 
 And now I can think of visiting my 
 neighbours again, my brothers on the other 
 side of the Elbe, the land where Goethe 
 sang, where Luther preached, and where 
 art and science have spread so many 
 rays over the world — the country where 
 I have experienced so much kindness — 
 won so many friends. 
 
 Peace ! Peace with Germany ! I feel so 
 glad that it will now be known that Den- 
 mark wanted no more than her rights. 
 May no more blood flow, may the work 
 of peace begun, prosper in God. For a 
 long, long time I have heard nothing 
 from you ! The day before Whitsuntide 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 26 1 
 
 I left Copenhagen, and before my depar- 
 ture I wrote to your Royal Highness, now 
 about seven weeks ago. In Danish and 
 German papers I am always looking for 
 Weimar. I have not seen that you are 
 travelling or that you are ill. I know that 
 you think of me. I rely steadfastly on my 
 noble friend. 
 
 An opera, by my compatriot, Saloman, 
 has, I am very pleased to hear, met with 
 approbation in Weimar. If they only knew 
 more of the Danish operas in Germany, 
 such as Kuhlau's " Lulu," Weyse's *' Night- 
 cap," Hartmann's "The Little Cirsten" 
 (Christine), and ''The Raven," these 
 would certainly also attain popularity. 
 Some of Overskou's comedies have been 
 very favourably received on the German 
 stage, but the Germans are not acquainted 
 with plays like ''The Savings-Bank," by 
 Hertz, " No/' by Heiberg, and other ster- 
 ling works of the same kind. 
 
 I am writing this letter in quiet, home- 
 like Glorup in Ftinen, the seat of the old 
 Count Gebhardt Moltke, where I have now 
 
262 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 spent four weeks, and where I am heartily 
 welcomed. All day long I can either wan- 
 der in the forest solitudes or undisturbedly 
 read or compose. Here I received the pro- 
 clamation of peace even earlier than I 
 dared to hope. I was fetched in from the 
 Count's deer-park by a gamekeeper; he 
 said they had been looking for me every- 
 where to impart good tidings, — z>., the 
 authentic news of peace. I hurried to the 
 castle and saw the printed document. Ah, 
 my noble friend, if I could only have em- 
 braced you at that moment ! I was obliged 
 to cry for joy and return to the forest 
 again, where I sang German and Danish 
 songs from an overflowing heart. That 
 was a real holiday ! Now I shall soon re- 
 ceive a letter from Weimar addressed to 
 Copenhagen (155 Amalienstrasse). 
 
 During Whitsun week I was with the 
 author Fugeman in Soroe, who has written 
 some new novels. It was in the beautiful 
 days of spring. The beeches were already 
 bursting into leaf, and the nightingales 
 sang in the fragrant trees on moonlight 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 263 
 
 nights. From there I went to Jutland, to 
 picturesque Silkeborg, which bears a strik- 
 ing resemblance to the Scottish scenery 
 between Stirling and Loch Lomond ; but 
 nature in Denmark is richer in large and 
 stately forests. Here, for the first time, I 
 saw pitch-black storks strutting about the 
 green moor, mighty eagles snatching their 
 prey from the lakes plentiful in fish. I 
 was told that a pike was caught here some 
 years ago with the entire skeleton of an 
 eagle on its back. The eagle, with its 
 claws deeply buried, must have sunk with 
 the pike and decomposed under the water. 
 
 From Frederlcia I came to Fiinen. Here 
 I am at work on my travel-pictures of 
 Sweden, and from here I shall go over 
 the islands to Copenhagen. 
 
 I must relate to you a little story, a 
 new proof of how much poetry lies In 
 so-called chance. On placing fresh wreaths 
 on Oehlenschlager's grave they found a 
 faded one, in which a little song-bird had 
 built her nest and laid eggs. This would 
 have touched and delighted Oehlenschlager, 
 
264 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 Your Royal Highness will perhaps soon 
 read his biography ; but before this I shall 
 probably receive a letter, and learn how 
 It fares with the little Prince Karl August. 
 For a long time I have heard nothing of 
 him ; he must be a strong young man by 
 now. When we meet I shall probably be 
 a stranger to him. Give my most sincere 
 and respectful regards to your noble Con- 
 sort and your Royal parents. Beaulleu^ 
 has entirely forgotten me ! How Is he ? 
 And the good Eckermann and Marschall ? 
 Farewell, my dear, dear friend ! 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to the Grand- Duke of Weimar, 
 
 Copenhagen, December 1850. 
 
 Christmas is approaching — the childish, 
 happy Christmas f^te. In every house 
 
 ^ Beaulieu (Marconnay Karl Oliver von), diplomatist and 
 historian, born 5th September 181 1, at Minden. In 1843 he 
 entered the service of the Grand-Duke of Weimar, and in 
 1853 he became GrandXhamberlain. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 265 
 
 they are decorating the trees ; in the grand- 
 ducal castle at Weimar also the Christ- 
 mas tree stands. Joy reigns supreme with 
 young and old on this most beautiful 
 fairy night of the year, which is also for 
 the grown-up people a veritable children's 
 night. 
 
 Thanks for your friendship in the old 
 year : may the new one prove a bright and 
 happy one for us all. 
 
 It is a long time since I last wrote : 
 curiously enough, so long that I might 
 have taken a considerable journey in the 
 time, whereas I have only left my little 
 room to wander within the walls of Copen- 
 hagen. And yet I have travelled in a 
 new world, which one of my oldest friends, 
 our celebrated H. C. Oersted, has opened 
 to me. In the early part of this year 
 his work appeared, " The Spirit in Nature." 
 I have mentioned this book before. It 
 is closely allied to Humboldt's ''Cosmos," 
 and yet widely different. 
 
 I am forty-five years old, but I often 
 feel in many ways as if I were twenty, 
 
266 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 I believe that, as a poet, I have several 
 stages to go through, and that I have 
 reached one of those by means of Oersted's 
 work. This book has awakened in me a 
 longing for science, and I have latterly read 
 a good deal in this direction which has 
 naturally disturbed my productiveness — and 
 also my correspondence with friends. Oer- 
 sted has always been good to me. He has 
 been my faithful friend for many years ; 
 but now he is even more to me, — he has 
 understood my sincere aspiration. Under 
 this process of development my last work, 
 ** In Sweden," has been altered and re- 
 altered. 
 
 If you, my noble friend, read this book 
 in the beginning of the new year, a few 
 passages in it will show you . how life and 
 the world are now reflected in me. But 
 fear not that I shall leave the fresh life of 
 poetry to throw myself into the realm of 
 philosophy, or even to write didactic 
 poems : that will not happen. For me 
 the human heart is the fairy-lamp of poetry, 
 which I firmly grasp, and I stand like 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 267 
 
 Aladdin with this lamp in the glowing 
 cavern of science ; neither will the powers 
 of nature be able to make me their 
 servant. No, I will call forth the spirits, 
 which at my bidding must build me a new 
 castle of poetry. With Oersted I have 
 had many instructive conversations. I beg 
 you to read his book ; it will not fail to 
 make its mark, and you, my dear friend, 
 will like to know the man. His fiftieth 
 jubilee as teacher in the Copenhagen Uni- 
 versity has just been celebrated ; and the 
 use of the beautiful villa in which Oehlen- 
 schlager used to live has been given to 
 him for life. All the learned societies have 
 honoured and extolled him, and the King 
 has granted him the title of Excellency. 
 To me was entrusted the task of writing 
 some blank verse to accompany his por- 
 trait. It ran as follows : 
 
 As the lightning thought from thy forehead sprang, 
 
 Science received a greater impetus. 
 
 An immeasurable treasure gav'st thou to the countries 
 
 of the world. 
 And through all the beauties of truth 
 Thou leadest us with upturned gaze to God. 
 
268 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 Of Jenny LInd I have heard nothing 
 for a whole year, except through the papers, 
 which tell me of her and the novelty- 
 loving Yankees. 
 
 Fredericka Bremer is also in North 
 America, and remains there till the spring. 
 She has, however, written both to Oersted 
 and to me. My books, she says, are very 
 much liked there, and I have many friends. 
 But I shall never see them, because the 
 great ocean is a terror to me — its move- 
 ments make me suffer ; and yet I love the 
 sea, that is, when I stand upon firm, dry 
 ground. My longing to travel does not 
 extend to the West ; it must then be for 
 England ; — no, I will go to the South, to 
 Italy, and the way lies by Weimar. 
 
 In a Vienna pocket-book, entitled *' My 
 Thoughts for 1851," there is a novel by 
 Clara von Massow, ** The Settler in 
 Haltigen"; but I, Hans Christian Ander- 
 sen, am the hero of this romance. It is 
 rather presumptuous to put me in it when 
 I am still alive. Do read this curious 
 3tory. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 269 
 
 The sculptor Jerichau^ will soon return 
 to Rome. Before his departure he wishes 
 to make a bust of me. His wife has a 
 picture of me ready ; this, and a similar 
 one of Queen Caroline Amelia, she takes 
 with her to London. At the great ex- 
 hibition your Royal Highness will be 
 able to see both pictures, if you are there 
 then. 
 
 For the first time for many years I shall 
 spend Christmastide this year in Copen- 
 hagen. In former years I used to pass 
 some varied and delightful weeks at Count 
 Moltke's at Bregentved. Now it is a house 
 of mourning there. A son, who was serving 
 as a volunteer hussar,^ has died of typhus 
 fever in the hospital. He was a thoroughly 
 good son, a dear boy, and at the Christmas 
 merrymaking the merriest of all. 
 
 From the Christmas tree in Copenhagen, 
 my thoughts fly to the castle in Weimar, 
 where happy children, happy parents and 
 grandparents gather round the tree. 
 
 ^ Jerichau (Jens Adolph), Danish sculptor, born 7th April 
 1 8 16, at Assens, in Fiinen. He died 25th July 1883. 
 2 One year's service. 
 
270 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 A bright Christmas and a happy New 
 Year to you all is the wish of 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to the Grand- Duke of Weimar, 
 Glorup, in Funen, 17th June 185 1. 
 
 Your Royal Highness will have received, 
 I hope, my bust from Jerichau and have 
 accorded it a friendly place in your happy 
 home. The bust is good, is it not ? If 
 I could only stand like it in person before 
 your Royal Highness ! 
 
 An intellectual picture will, I believe, also 
 have come before you : my new picture- 
 bouquet from the land of Sweden. I myself 
 consider these compositions my most successful 
 effort, next to my fairy tales. Like them 
 it will be difficult to render them correctly 
 in any language but the original ; yet I hope 
 that they will find a favourable reception at 
 the hands of my noble friend. In Sweden. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 27 1 
 
 where they have appeared, as well as in 
 Germany and England, they seem to have 
 attracted attention. Yesterday brought me 
 a letter from King Oscar, with hearty thanks 
 for these pictures of his country. I am now 
 highly curious to know which part your 
 Royal Highness will like best. The style 
 will remind you of my '' Picture Book with- 
 out Pictures." 
 
 I am now in Fnnen, with his Excellency 
 Count Moltke Hvidfeldt, and remain here 
 till July. If your Royal Highness will 
 favour me with a letter, I beg that the 
 same may, as usual, be sent to Copen- 
 hagen to the address of Privy Councillor 
 Collin ; I shall then receive the letter 
 immediately. 
 
 At the beginning of July I am going 
 to Schleswig-Holstein, and later — but this 
 is not yet settled — to Paris. I shall only 
 remain there a short time so as to finish 
 a new composition at home. 
 
 Does your Royal Highness intend to 
 travel this summer ? How happy I should 
 be if I could meet you ! 
 
272 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 I commend myself to the gracious re- 
 membrance of your exalted Consort and 
 your parents! 
 
 The beautiful days in Weimar pass ever 
 through my mind like spring sunshine. 
 Bright and happy memories are the most 
 highly prized treasures. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to Chamberlain von Beaulieit in 
 Weimar. 
 
 Copenhagen,///;/^ 1851. 
 
 Dear Friend, — I was sincerely glad to 
 receive a letter from you, who are so dear 
 to me ; my feelings have remained the 
 same all through the years. I have still 
 unchanged the same confidence in you, 
 and therefore I truly confess that there 
 was something in your letter which sur- 
 prised and grieved me — words which I 
 did not think you could have written to 
 me 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 273 
 
 I possess, however, so many dear and 
 pleasant remembrances of your feeling 
 towards me, of your own charming and 
 good-hearted personality, that I soon saw 
 that your letter was overshadowed by the 
 mood you were in when you wrote. I 
 longed to be in Weimar, where I had ex- 
 perienced so much kindness, and where so 
 many live that I love ; but as I did not 
 know in what way the lower orders would 
 show their sympathy after the last agitation, 
 in a town like Weimar, and as I thought it 
 possible I should feel rather uncomfortable 
 as a Dane, I asked you about it in con- 
 fidence, because I wished to feel as happy in 
 Weimar as before. As far as concerns the 
 cultivated classes, I had no thought or fear 
 of coming into collision with any one of 
 them : we have so many other interests in 
 common which are dear to us, so much that 
 is good and beautiful as subjects of con- 
 versation to mutually entertain us, that I 
 should certainly have flown to my old friends. 
 Time will clear up much, and I know that 
 Germans and Danes will be the best of 
 
2 74 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 friends ; let the noblest stretch out their 
 hands to each other first. The beautiful and 
 the true will be the bridge between us. May 
 the soft chords which find a place in my 
 heart underlie every word of this letter, and 
 you will understand that where I as a true 
 Dane — and that I am — felt sharply wounded, 
 it is the friend who suffers from the wound. 
 Therefore no more of politics — only of the 
 world, of the heart and the intellect ! 
 
 If my new book finds a good place in 
 yours, then write me a few words about 
 it. Remain true and good to me. We all 
 live such a short time together in this 
 world that those who are dear to each 
 other here must hold closely together 
 lest the waves sweep them apart. Re- 
 member me kindly to your excellent wife, 
 and let me soon hear from the friend whom 
 I should so like to meet ! 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 In explanation of the foregoing letter we 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 275 
 
 add one from Councillor Edward Collin to 
 Andersen, dated lytk June 1851. 
 
 You have informed me, my dear Ander- 
 sen, of your having asked the Chamberlain 
 Beaulieu his opinion as to how far the 
 feeUng extends in Weimar in respect to 
 the Danes, in order that you might feel 
 comfortable there and have no unpleasant- 
 ness to fear. 
 
 You at the same time communicated 
 to me the Chamberlain's reply and asked 
 me my opinion of it. 
 
 I can understand your hesitation. You 
 would not willingly break with a man who 
 has shown you attention, and who, accord- 
 ing to your account, must be a cultured, 
 intellectual person, and a kind husband and 
 father. But you can have no doubt about 
 this, that his letter to you is very offensive, 
 and, in short, is a rough answer to a good- 
 natured inquiry. 
 
 Your question, as you very rightly 
 remark, directed to the masses, was 
 whether an anti- Danish feeling existed 
 
276 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 among the low uneducated classes of the 
 people. 
 
 It could not, of course, occur to you 
 to ask how far you had aught to fear 
 from cultured persons like the Chamber- 
 lain Beaulieu and his compeers. Now, by 
 heaven, it seems to me you have received 
 a distinct answer to everything ; for if, 
 among the cultivated, hospitality to a guest 
 should be shown towards you in such a 
 manner as Herr Beaulieu prophesies, — by 
 contempt and ridicule, — you can calculate 
 what you would have to expect from the 
 masses. 
 
 Beaulieu's presumptions, by which you 
 are to guard yourself from ever going to 
 Weimar, are, according to the purport of 
 his letter as communicated to me, as 
 follows : {a) That you are so Danishly 
 inclined that you do not understand how 
 the Danish Casino-Cabinet can be regarded 
 as a product of Democracy. Now, it is 
 highly naive for a member of the great 
 Germany who has made himself so cele- 
 brated by his coquetting with Democracy — 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 277 
 
 by way of change from the former press 
 prosecutions, domiciliary visits, political im- 
 prisonments, etc. — for such an honoured 
 member of the Ministry, I say, to cast 
 reproach on a democratic origin. It ap- 
 pears that Herr Beaulieu assumes that the 
 change of Ministry in the year 1848 took 
 place principally that the people might be 
 in power. He ignores, therefore, something 
 that the people in harness brought to pass 
 — the events in the Duchies, the Schleswig- 
 Holstein deputation here, — in short, that the 
 people rose against German arrogance. 
 Just as the whole of the present German 
 journalistic literature holds fast to the 
 standing expression, " Casino-Cabinet," as a 
 word of abuse, so Is It used here also by 
 Herr Beaulieu; for the rest, it seems, when 
 he aims at the present Government, he 
 does not, or will not, know that none of 
 the so-called "Casino" men possess a port- 
 folio to-day. It might perhaps interest 
 Herr Beaulieu to learn that there are 
 four noblemen in the Cabinet, among them 
 two counts, and that the President of the 
 
278 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 Council is one of our highest and most 
 distinguished aristocrats. — (d) That you 
 would be annoyed when one ridiculed the 
 order that the hat must be taken off down 
 to the thighs before every Danish official or 
 soldier. If that be true, of which I am 
 really, not. aware (but in Germany they are so 
 much better informed of our circumstances), 
 that an officer in Angeln gave those absurd 
 instructions for the small district in occupa- 
 tion by him, this story reduces itself to 
 the bad taste and mal-co^iduite of a single 
 individual. But when this individual is 
 a Dane, the story has such a monstrous 
 success that the poet H. C. Andersen 
 would have to run the risk of being derided 
 in the town of Schiller and Goethe, — the 
 highly cultured Weimar! Good God! if 
 the Germans who visit Copenhagen in 
 hundreds, and enjoy hospitality here, heard 
 derision of all the stupidities (not to use 
 a worse word) which the Germans have 
 committed, then — well, it is really not 
 worth while to be more bitter than is 
 necessary. — {c) That you, on the part of 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 279 
 
 Denmark, find everything right, everything 
 true, everything reasonable, and on the part 
 of Holstein exactly the reverse. 
 
 These arguments smack a little of the 
 want of having anything else to say. It 
 is not quite usual for a person, who Is no 
 fool, to admit that he regards himself as 
 the only sensible being. 
 
 I leave it to you to make what use you 
 please of this letter, even to sending it to 
 Herr Beaulieu for the creation of a 
 genteel laugh ; but if you did so, it could 
 only be correct by your pointing out to 
 him my competency to give such an 
 opinion, partly on account of my relations 
 towards yourself, which justify me in casting 
 back the scorn intended for you, and partly 
 because the writer of it is an official of the 
 ancien regime and no friend to Democracy 
 — least of all ''a product of Democracy." 
 
 I hope that you will peremptorily dis- 
 claim the honour of being, among Weimar's 
 great men, '' a dear, worthy bard with 
 whom one may go out walking, but not 
 discuss politics." 
 
28o HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 Andersen to Miss Henrietta Wulff. 
 
 Copenhagen, \Zth December 1851. 
 
 Thanks for your hearty letter, which I 
 received with the Christmas greetings. 
 We shall, however, not reach the top of 
 the tree till next week, and from there I 
 always look forward towards the coming 
 spring : the unfolding year, whatever it may 
 bring forth, has green woods and open sea, 
 and this time it will bring you back. 
 
 It will be impossible for me ever to go 
 to America, even if, on your return, with 
 your eloquence and talent for sketching, 
 you paint the country with all the brilliancy 
 of 2. fata morgana. You have truly, in each 
 letter, beckoned and called ; but there is 
 the vast ocean between us, — the fourteen 
 days of broad, angry sea, where I should 
 for days be sea-sick in return for my money 
 out of pocket. Fie, Andersen ! you already 
 cry. Now, we will drop the tender 
 thread, and come to the real point. I am 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 28 1 
 
 looked upon, — at least at home, — as 
 Phantasy personified, but that is because 
 only a part of me is understood. I have 
 as much thought for what is practical and 
 real. You write : '' It is so easy to do 
 the voyage to America. A steamer fitted 
 with all comforts carries you across the sea, 
 and in America you will be well received, and 
 find many friends and homes. You can 
 travel about with the Lind," etc., etc. 
 Yes, that is very lovely ; but it is for me 
 only a pretty fancy. Do you know how 
 you could easily allure me and bring me 
 into a travelling mood ? Why, by writ- 
 ing : "So much for the steamer from 
 Europe to America, so much a day in a 
 good hotel, so much per mile by rail." 
 Then I might make my calculations, see 
 what a journey like that would cost, see 
 if I could afTord it, and whether expenses 
 and profits would balance, and then make 
 up my mind. I have great dread of long 
 sea voyages, I suffer so much ; but that 
 I might even conquer and overcome. Yes, 
 I should certainly go to America, if a rich 
 
282 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 man or woman over there left me suffi- 
 cient means in a will. Perhaps such a 
 person may turn up ; then I shall go ! 
 
 But are you now really coming back to 
 us, dear, blessed *' sister Jette," as your 
 brother says ? We will, by the warmth 
 of our hearts and the love in our eye, 
 compensate for the West Indian climate. 
 The forest will be fresh and green when 
 you come, and at the Casino we will 
 play ''Hyldemaer" to you. I suppose 
 your brother has already sent you that 
 comedy ? 
 
 It interests me exceedingly to find that 
 nearly all our great poets greatly admire 
 that little work. Ingemann finds it very 
 beautiful indeed, — ^just after his heart, — and 
 gives me great praise. The poets Boye, 
 Hauch, Hoist, etc., are quite taken with 
 it. Yes ; only think, the day before 
 yesterday I received from Heiberg himself 
 a charming letter, in which he expresses 
 his pleasure on receiving that poetical 
 work. He says it is " poetic " and 
 " dramatic." 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 283 
 
 '' Foedrelandet " and the '' Dageblad " 
 have spoken well of '' Hyldemaer." The 
 spiteful and bigoted articles against my 
 writings have been ridiculed, so I have 
 really received much kindly recognition. 
 
 Longfellow has sent me his " Evangeline." 
 Bentley sent a great work, " The Whale," 
 and Burton has dedicated to me, '' A Voyage 
 from Leith to Lapland." Thus the wind 
 blows freely from the West, and from that 
 direction your letter also came. 
 
 Miss Bremer has not been in Copenhagen. 
 French journals say she is gone to Stock- 
 holm and that her sister is dead. The 
 attention of all Copenhagen, or nearly so, 
 is just now directed on Mr. Hoedt, who has 
 made his appearance as ''Hamlet" and also as 
 the lover in " No." People stood all night to 
 obtain tickets. No more finished piece of 
 acting has been seen. He is the ''Talma" 
 of to-day. Would that I could be of the 
 same opinion, but I am not. Here is my 
 judgment : Hoedt has great gifts, speaks 
 his part admirably ; indeed, he ought to 
 instruct half our caste. I am now speaking 
 
284 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEn's 
 
 of him as '' Hamlet." Everything becomes 
 clear and comprehensible as he speaks, but 
 I have more the feeling of listening to a 
 lecture or a dramatic discourse which ap- 
 peals to the reason only, — ''Hamlet" him- 
 self I cannot feel, — I hear only the correct 
 Hoedt, and he does not interest me. He 
 is wanting in pathos, there is no trace of a 
 heart. His voice is not agreeable, and his 
 face, with the exception of the eyes, is life- 
 less. Hoedt has not as yet, I believe, ap- 
 peared in any characters in which he might 
 become to the stage, what people say he is 
 now, and which he himself doubtless be- 
 lieves he is. In '' No" he appears very 
 disagreeable to me. He is there a blasd 
 student, sarcastic, overbearing, very un- 
 amiable, which I do not think a lover 
 ought to be ; but if so, then his acting is a 
 masterpiece. Nay, were I the maiden. I 
 would unhesitatingly accept the bell-ringer. 
 She would be far happier with him ; he at least 
 has a heart. In " New Kings Street " they 
 are not of my opinion, but that is the case 
 in many places. I will now predict the 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 285 
 
 artistic career of Hoedt : public enthusiasm 
 will cool in a few months, he will be vexed, 
 and as he is a rich man, he will be so angry 
 that he will leave the stage forever, and 
 he and his party will say, ''It is an awful 
 loss to art." This is perhaps a little too 
 long for you, but you get off easily. If you 
 were here you would hear different opinions 
 expressed upon Hoedt. Once more, in 
 order not to be misunderstood, he is richly 
 gifted, he speaks his parts with good sense 
 and refinement ; but that is not enough to 
 stand all night for, only to obtain a ticket or 
 call it " the first." But Hoedt is now the 
 pinnacle of enthusiasm, as Clara Raphael 
 was, and before her, RassI, and in bygone 
 days Mademoiselle Pohlmann. Do you re- 
 member Mademoiselle Pohlmann ? She was 
 a Hamburg singer who Is perhaps now for- 
 gotten in Hamburg. This letter must not 
 be printed or I shall be murdered. 
 
 From Mrs. Oersted and Mathllde I send 
 you many greetings. Lately the pension 
 granted to Mrs. Oersted was mentioned in 
 the Chamber, Mr. Frolund thought that 
 
286 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEn's 
 
 it was extraordinary that she, as a widow, 
 should receive looo dollars ; but then the 
 Ministers of Education replied : *' But her 
 husband was extraordinary too ..." 
 
 Young Molbech has just published 
 Dante's '' Hell," and a book of pretty, 
 original poems entitled '' Damring." Chris- 
 tian Winther has written a Marionette 
 comedy, "A Student and a Maid." Lose 
 and Delbanco published a Danish almanac 
 for the people. It was sold out in three 
 weeks. There were 4000 copies. In it 
 were two fairy tales of mine. One is called 
 ''There is a Difference," the other, ''The 
 Loveliest Rose in the World." This latter 
 is considered one of my best, but it is not. 
 I have in manuscript a few more, " The 
 Old Tombstone," "Doomsday," and "A 
 Swan's Nest." The last is a small history 
 of Denmark. Denmark is the swan's nest. 
 You will understand what swans flew from 
 there in the eyes of the world, not to 
 mention the great flocks which were called 
 Longbeards, Voerings, and Norsemen. 
 
 Will you kindly remember me to my 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 287 
 
 friends in America. I hope you have there 
 procured what I asked you on the evening of 
 your departure, — a cheap edition of a couple 
 of my books. There are editions of " O. T." 
 and '' Spillemanden " at two shilHngs. If 
 you have forgotten, remember it now, while 
 you are in a corner of the other world. 
 
 The daguerreotype with your brother 
 Worsaae, Grimur Thomsen, and myself, is, 
 I hope, in your hands. How do you like it ? 
 They tell me I look very haughty. That 
 is caused by tobacco smoke ; Mr. Grimur 
 puffed incessantly, and I cannot endure 
 that kind of incense. We are now far into 
 December without any actual winter. It is 
 mild weather, as it is called, — wet, fogs, 
 twilight all day, clammy stair rails, con- 
 versations about the ''President," Hoedt, 
 Christmas presents, etc. 
 
 The painter, Roed, is now home from 
 Dresden with his copy of the Madonna. 
 Martin Hammerich has got it, and has 
 placed it in a separate room. Marstrand 
 has nearly finished his large picture, '* Sum- 
 mer Fete in Liksand ; " you know it from 
 
288 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 ''In Sweden." With the first swallow I 
 hope for a letter from you. Ah, would the 
 swallow but come soon ! but the way is long 
 over the rolling sea. I must wait, wait — 
 and I do not like it. But now good-bye. 
 This has become a letter of a whole printed 
 sheet. I hope you will read it on a clear 
 day, and in a bright humour, standing by a 
 window ; and if a bird flies across the sea 
 towards land, that is a sign that I shall see 
 all the beauty across the sea. Tell me if a 
 bird comes. — Your brotherly faithful, 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to the Grand-Duke of Weimar. 
 
 Copenhagen, ist March 1852. 
 
 After your Royal Highness' last letter 
 I felt myself vividly transported to dear 
 artistic Weimar. The execution of the 
 idea of erecting a monument to Goethe, 
 Schiller, and Wieland will delight me. 
 
CO'RRESPONDENCE. 289 
 
 In a few words you have placed Coun- 
 tess Rossi so distinctly before me, that I 
 feel sympathy for her as well as regret 
 that the glories of art and the life of the 
 salon can no longer cheer her. 
 
 As often as I receive a letter from you, 
 my dear friend, I still higher appreciate 
 your goodness of heart. It is now just 
 eight years since I first went to Weimar. 
 I saw you for the first time on your birth- 
 day in the theatre at Weimar. At Etters- 
 burg you extended your hand to me for 
 the first time. As we parted, your Royal 
 Highness said: ''Write to me; I will 
 certainly reply." At that time I believed — 
 I honestly confess it — that it was only a 
 friendly figure of speech ; but how truly, 
 how sincerely, you have kept your word 
 through eight years, under changing cir- 
 cumstances, during the sumptuous festiv- 
 ities of England's Queen, and the magni- 
 ficent splendour in St. Petersburg. All 
 this has not caused you to forget the poet 
 heart in Denmark. It all passes so often 
 and so vividly through my mind that I 
 
 ik 
 
290 HANS CHRISTIAN AN1)ERSP:n's 
 
 sometimes almost feel homesick for Weimar, 
 for this town always stands in the sunshine 
 before my vision. It is ever smiling at me 
 with kind eyes, and I so willingly believe 
 that it will always be the same dear town 
 to me. For five years I have not been 
 there — yes, really,, hvc long, eventful 
 years. 
 
 When spring comes I intend to go to 
 Switzerland and North Italy, but first to 
 spend a week or fourteen days in Weimar, 
 for there my longing leads me. Above 
 all I beg your Royal Highness for in- 
 formation as to whether I can meet you 
 in May at Weimar. My departure from 
 here depends not a little upon the weather. 
 If my new piece, " Fliedermutterchen," does 
 not reach you or Chamberlain Beaulieu be- 
 fore then, I will bring it with me. 
 
 I have received a letter from the 
 theatrical manager. Von Dingelstedt, in 
 Munich, with whom I have hitherto been 
 unacquainted. He begs me to send him 
 '' Fliedermutterchen," and to recommend to 
 him the best Danish pieces suitable for 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 29 1 
 
 Germany. I have already made a long 
 list of them. 
 
 Indeed, Danish dramatic literature is so 
 rich that one could easily find an original 
 work for every night of the year. But very 
 little of it is known in Germany, with the 
 exception of Oehlenschlager's '' Corregio," 
 Overskous '' Fatalities on the Wedding- 
 day," and Hertz's - King Rent's Daughter." 
 
 When I go to Weimar I shall be able 
 to speak more exhaustively, than through 
 letters, to your Royal Highness and 
 Chamberlain Beaulieu of the great riches 
 of dramatic literature. 
 
 A beautiful new edition of my fairy tales 
 has again appeared in London. I am now 
 arranging the bringing out of a collected 
 edition of my works in Denmark, and to 
 this end I am working at my bio- 
 graphy. In the meantime I have written 
 some stories which can be added to my 
 fairy tales. Perhaps they will be published 
 with some little dramatic pieces, under the 
 title of -From Fairyland and for Sta^e- 
 land." ^ 
 
292 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 I have heard nothing from your Royal 
 Highness yet with regard to '* In Sweden." 
 Do read the booklet. I believe and hope 
 that the little pictures will appeal to you. 
 
 Here, in Denmark, we are having a most 
 remarkably mild winter: the fields have con- 
 tinued green, the storks came even as early 
 as January, and no ice binds the water. 
 The last few nights have been illuminated 
 by the beautiful northern lights, the flames 
 spreading in changing colours over the sky. 
 
 Will your Royal Highness kindly give 
 my humble regards to the Duchess and 
 your noble parents ? Also kindest remem- 
 brances to Frau von Grosse, Countess Beust, 
 Chamberlain and Frau von Beaulieu, the 
 good Eckermann, and Scholl. I long for 
 the spring morning when I shall see your 
 Royal Highness in your study. Oh, how I 
 should rejoice ! for you are certainly un- 
 changed and the same, like 
 
 Your Royal Highness sincerely devoted, 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 293 
 
 Andersen to the Grand- Duke of Weimar, 
 
 Munich, 2.ydjune 1852. 
 
 The days are passing like hours. I have 
 been already over a week at Munich, and 
 still have not written to your Royal High- 
 ness. I have been thinking of it. My heart 
 is full of the most fervent thanks for all the 
 kindness, favours, and friendship which you 
 showered upon me in those never-to-be- 
 forgotten days at Weimar. 
 
 I remained there three weeks, and every- 
 thing was so congenial and pleasant, and 
 the memory of it even now is as beautiful 
 as the reality was. When I come again I 
 hope that - The Lilac-tree " will be bloom- 
 ing on the stage. Give the work a friendly 
 reception. The music will be easily ar- 
 ranged according to the melody given in the 
 book, but I very much wish that both the 
 melodies which I gave to the manager here, 
 as a supplement, may be used. 
 
 Munich has an immense attraction for 
 
294 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 me! In the *' Bazaar" I have compared it 
 to a rose-bush, which is now in full bloom. 
 The Au-kirche is a veritable passion- 
 flower, as if sprung up in a moment ; the 
 Basilika a golden pink with exquisite per- 
 fume and organ tones. The manager of 
 the theatre has placed an entire box at my 
 disposal during the whole time I remain 
 here. The King has received me with ex- 
 treme kindness and graciousness, and sent 
 for me at noon to go to Castle Starenberg. 
 I crossed the lake with the King to a little 
 flower-island. His Majesty pointed out to 
 me the beautiful prospect, and as we walked 
 together he conversed with me very cordially, 
 almost as you would have done, my noble 
 friend. On the island stood an old church. 
 A lilac-tree bent its branches to the ground, 
 and a blossom of it, which the King him- 
 self plucked and gave to me, will be placed 
 in my album beside the lime-tree branch 
 which you gave me once long years ago 
 on my first visit to Ettersburg. 
 
 I spoke to the Countess Egloffstein at 
 the castle of King Ludwig. The German 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 295 
 
 authoress, Frau Robinson of Borton, whose 
 acquaintance I made at Councillor Scholl's 
 in Weimar, is also here. 
 
 On Tuesday I return by way of Milan 
 and Switzerland. If I may hope for a letter 
 send it to Zurich poste restante. At the 
 end of July letters are to be forwarded to 
 Copenhagen, where I shall take sea-baths. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to the Grand- Duke of Weimar, 
 
 CoRSELiTZA, Falster, list August 1852. 
 
 Your Royal Highness has received 
 my last letter just as I was about to cross 
 over the Alps into Italy, with my heart 
 full of Weimar, and happy on account of 
 the beautiful days in Munich. Now several 
 weeks lie between, and these to me are like 
 a whole rich year, on account of the changes 
 of travel. The route over the Splugen, 
 which I did not know before, is grand and 
 impressive. It is strange, passing over the 
 
296 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDKRSENS 
 
 backbone of the earth high up in the clouds, 
 surrounded by Alpine roses and snow. 
 Waterfalls rush down, one after the other, 
 and far beneath the road (which hangs like 
 a swallow's nest over the rocks) streams the 
 Rhine, so foaming, so wild, so overbearing, 
 as if it were always the most important ele- 
 ment in the whole scenery. 
 
 Some days before my arrival at Milan the 
 diligence was attacked by twelve banditti, 
 six of whom were arrested, and hanged on 
 the day I arrived. The heat was unbear- 
 able ; one could only go out in the evening 
 and early in the morning. I then went up 
 Into the dome of the Cathedral ; the magnifi- 
 cent beauty of this building affected me now 
 far more than nineteen years ago, when I 
 was here for the first time. Nineteen years 
 have passed away since I took my first 
 journey to Italy and wrote my " Impro- 
 visatore." As I climbed up to the dome and 
 looked out over the country, like Moses 
 over Canaan, it seemed to me as if I were 
 saying good-bye to it for ever. God knows 
 if it will not be so. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 297 
 
 This time the heat, with its flaming sword, 
 has driven me out of the paradise of poetry. 
 I could not breathe, and was glad when I 
 looked down from St. Gothard on the coun- 
 try towards the north. 
 
 I lingered some days by the Lake-of-the- 
 four-Forest Towns, to me the most beautiful 
 of all Swiss lakes. I felt then so refreshed, 
 so contented. Switzerland is a whole poem 
 written by the dear God Himself; this, 
 perhaps, is the reason why the country has 
 produced no poet. I took leave of it at 
 Schaffhausen. The world-renowned water- 
 fall there did not impress me immediately. 
 It seemed to me smaller than that at Troll- 
 halle in Sweden, indeed, even smaller than 
 one of unknown name at Splugen. Yet 
 when I came down the effect was entirely 
 different. The huge mass of water on the 
 right is what really claims the whole visual 
 faculty ; it is a single long wave which 
 resolves itself into whirling snow-white 
 clouds. It is the creation of a cloud world ; 
 a glacier dissolved in glittering vapour. 
 Through the solemn Black Forest, where 
 
298 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEn's 
 
 the charcoal fires glowed through the 
 thickets, and all good-looking people ap- 
 peared to me like acquaintances out of 
 Auerbach's " Village Tales," I came to 
 Freiburg and then proceeded on the wings 
 of steam through the provinces and down 
 the Rhine. 
 
 I have now been at home over a fortnight, 
 and am taking the baths at Falster. I am 
 here on a visit to a very amiable family, 
 namely that of Chamberlain Klassen. 
 
 The forest and garden of Corselitza lie 
 towards the open sea with its cool waves. 
 Your Royal Highness, perhaps, at this 
 moment gazes on a still more beautiful sea, 
 the Mediterranean ; may every upheaving 
 wave bring you the apple of health. 
 
 To-morrow I am going to Copenhagen. 
 
 Queen Caroline Amelia (widow of Christian 
 
 VIII.) has graciously invited me to pass a 
 
 few days with her at the beautiful summer 
 
 castle of Sorgenfrei. I shall be home again 
 
 in a week. 
 
 H. C. AndeRwSEN. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 299 
 
 Andersen to Chamberlain Von Beaulieu, in 
 Weimar. 
 
 Copenhagen, in the Autwnft of 1852. 
 
 Dearest Friend, — I did not go to 
 Kreuznach, which vexes me now, but I had 
 suffered inexpressibly with the heat in Italy 
 and Switzerland. 
 
 I reached Frankfort, and wished to pay 
 you a visit from there, but something un- 
 foreseen occurred ; in fact, my travelling 
 companion wished to return home without 
 making a stay anywhere. I therefore re- 
 turned hither with all possible speed and 
 remained for a short time in Copenhagen. 
 The last few days I have spent on the 
 island of Falster, and take daily dips in the 
 Baltic. The air is cold enough, too cold ; 
 the sorb apples, asters, and dahlias, foretell 
 the waning of the summer, which for me 
 has been rich and beautiful. 
 
 A thousand thanks for the happy days 
 which I enjoyed with you in dear Weimar ! 
 
300 HANS C. ANDERSEN S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Give my regards and thanks to your 
 amiable wife and to my many friends in 
 your neighbourhood. God only knows when 
 we shall see each other again. 
 
 With the fall of the leaves in the autumn 
 my spirits always fall. It seems to me 
 then, as if all the dear ones would also fall 
 away, and as if the most recent meeting 
 would also be the last one. I have the 
 same feeling with regard to Italy ; as if I 
 had said farewell to it for ever, and should 
 never more go to the land of my " Impro- 
 visatore." 
 
 For fivG. years I have not been in 
 Weimar, not for five sad, troubled years, 
 the billows of which still course ever 
 through my heart. When shall I see 
 Weimar again ? 
 
 Give me a place in your heart, and if 
 my " Fliederbusch " should take root on 
 the Weimar stage, or, to speak more 
 correctly, if it should be placed as a flower 
 in the repertoire there in remembrance of 
 me ; nay, even if the flower should fade, let 
 me know. 
 
FRANZ LISZT. 
 
HANS c. Andersen's correspondence. 303 
 
 Dr. Liszt has received several excellent 
 musical compositions from Hartmann ; will 
 they be heard in Weimar ? These melo- 
 dies are full of thought and feeling. 
 '' Little Kirsten " is peculiarly northern, 
 but " The Raven " is undoubtedly the 
 opera which will be best understood. 
 
 And now farewell ! Greet your wife 
 and children, if the little ones still remem- 
 ber 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to the Poet and Theatrical Manager 
 Dingelstedt^ in Munich, 
 
 Copenhagen, 1852. 
 
 Honoured Sir, — I was agreeably sur- 
 prised at receiving your kind and flattering 
 communication. As a poet I have known 
 and esteemed you for a long time, and it 
 
 1 Dingelstedt (Franz), German author, born 30th June 
 1 814. From 1841-43 he was foreign correspondent to the 
 " Allgemeine Zeitung," and in 185 1 he became director of the 
 
304 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 was therefore my intention to at once pay 
 you a visit on arriving in Munich, v^here I 
 have not been for eleven years. 
 
 My plans are, God permitting, to go to 
 Tyrol early in the summer, and on the 
 journey to remain for three weeks in 
 Munich, where I may possibly be remem- 
 bered by a few former acquaintances. 
 
 Now I have received your letter, and see 
 that I have yet another friend in beautiful 
 Bavaria. I shall be most happy to meet 
 you, and we can then discuss Danish litera- 
 ture more comprehensively than is possible 
 by letter. It is, indeed, so very rich, that, 
 if desired, an original work could very well 
 be produced in Copenhagen every evening 
 during the season. Scarcely any examples 
 have been translated, or are known in Ger- 
 many, with the exception of Oehlenschlager's 
 " Tragedies," Overskou's '' Fatalities of a 
 Wedding-day," and Hertz's '' King Rent's 
 Daughter." I will, therefore, if you desire 
 
 Bavarian Court and National Theatre. In August 1867, he 
 was made director of the Court Opera in Vienna, where he 
 died on 15th May 1881. He was the author of several novels 
 and plays. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 3O5 
 
 it, direct your attention to several works 
 which are certainly worthy to be repre- 
 sented on every good stage. But first I 
 must mention a couple of our composers 
 whose operas are worth studying.^ 
 
 You ask me about Hertz's new comedy, 
 ** The Audience." I have noticed that a 
 Hamburg journal announces that it has 
 met with a most favourable reception, and 
 added another laurel to the author's fame. 
 This encomium appeared in several German 
 papers and will certainly have come to your 
 ears, but the critic is quite incorrect. The 
 piece is weak and crude, and but very feebly 
 represents our tuneful poet. There are 
 other quite different works by him which 
 are worthy of being classed with " King 
 Rene's Daughter." Hauch's '' Honour Lost 
 and Won," and " The Sisters at Kinne Kule," 
 are also worthy of mention. 
 
 With regard to my own dramatic works, 
 and particularly my last fairy comedy, " Die 
 Fliedermutter," the honour which you have 
 done me by asking for it, either translated 
 
 ^ The names and titles of the works have been omitted. 
 
306 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 or ill the original, In order to produce it 
 when possible at the Munich Court Theatre, 
 has given me much pleasure, and I should 
 be doubly pleased if It be, as I hope it is, 
 a piece suitable for the South-German stage. 
 As yet no dramatic production of mine has 
 appeared in Germany. I thought that a 
 beginning might be made with "The Flle- 
 dermutter," and a few days before I re- 
 ceived your esteemed letter I wrote to my 
 German publisher to instruct him to have 
 this well translated by Dr. Leo, who made 
 a spirited translation of '' King Rene's 
 Daughter." I have not yet had a reply, 
 but am now writing again to ask them to 
 send you the manuscript of the German 
 translation, also a brief musical supplement, 
 and some hints for shortening the piece, 
 with possible alterations and directions con- 
 cerning the facility with which the final 
 transformation scene may be represented 
 by quite simple means. If Herr Leo should 
 have other work which prevents him from 
 translating my piece, I shall soon know, and 
 will then instantly send the original to you, 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 307 
 
 dear Herr Dingelstedt, if you know a com- 
 petent person in Munich who understands 
 enough Danish to be able to translate it. 
 Such an one would also be necessary in 
 regard to the above-mentioned works of 
 other Danish authors, as I should only be 
 able to give you these in the original. 
 
 Perhaps you will favour me with a letter. 
 It would give me unutterable pleasure to 
 hear that the Danish literature of my native 
 country had reached nearer to the South 
 than is the case at present, as well as that 
 the German stage will receive some fresh 
 branches from the North. 
 
 In the hope of meeting you again in a 
 few months, of cordially pressing your hand, 
 and being able to tell you much of the good 
 and beautiful in the North, I send you my 
 thanks and regards. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
308 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 O 
 
 Andersen to the Grand- Duke of Weimar, 
 
 Glorup, near Nyborg, in Funen, 
 2nd July 1853. 
 
 In the interior of Jutland, just as I am 
 about to leave for Funen, I read in the 
 paper, to my great sorrow, that you, my dear 
 Grand-Duke, have lost your good, noble 
 father. I know how painful it is to lose 
 anyone that one loves, and to whom one is 
 strongly attached. The departed are better 
 off than we who live, and we obtain yet 
 another friend in the Heaven for which we 
 long. I appreciate the grief of the son, the 
 faithful, loving son, the man with a noble 
 heart like yours, on account of which your 
 Royal Highness is so dear to me. 
 
 A great and sacred sphere of activity is 
 now opened up before you, my dear, dear 
 Grand- Duke. God strengthen and lead you 
 to Him to whom all hearts are open. 
 
 In the new activity of your life I shall 
 probably hear from you less often, but I firmly 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 309 
 
 believe in you, and that I live in your 
 thoughts, as you have grown into my soul. 
 
 In Denmark, — that is to say, in Copen- 
 hagen, — there is now a time of tribulation. 
 The cholera is raging, and I live in constant 
 anxiety about my friends there. They and 
 the doctor desire me not to return till 
 the end of the epidemic. I am therefore 
 going to Silkeborg in Jutland, where I shall 
 remain for the present. But perhaps the 
 disease may reach there, it is already on the 
 island of Falster. God's will be done ! I 
 have had enough happiness and joy in this 
 world, and have won many true and noble 
 friends, among whom you stand foremost, my 
 dear Grand- Duke. 
 
 You are on the threshold of an active and 
 happy life. God bless you and your house. 
 
 Give your Royal mother my heartful sym- 
 pathy and respectful devotion. God be with 
 you ! 
 
 H. C. Andersen, 
 
3IO HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 Andersen to the Grand- Duke of Weimar. 
 
 Copenhagen, 22nd November 1853. 
 
 In the Interior of Jutland, on the beautiful 
 Silkeborg, I received your welcome letter, 
 and replied at once in a grateful frame of 
 mind. Now I am in my Copenhagen sur- 
 roundings. The cholera is over, all are well 
 and healthy, the theatres are filled, social 
 life begins, and everything again has the 
 same familiar appearance. 
 
 The night before last I had the honour 
 and pleasure of speaking to the young 
 Princess of Hesse.^ The widowed Queen 
 Caroline Amelia had invited me to tea, and 
 was gracious enough to personally introduce 
 me to the young Princess. I was obliged to 
 read some of my fairy tales aloud, and above 
 all in German ; but I hope they will soon be 
 able to read the Danish edition, for the 
 peculiarities of these works cannot be re- 
 peated in another language. 
 
 ^ Princess Anna, daughter of Prince Carl of Prussia, 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 3II 
 
 Last week was my jubilee. It is twenty- 
 five years ago this year since I became a 
 student. Of late years it has become the 
 fashion for all the men who matriculate in 
 the same year to gather at a large dinner 
 to celebrate the past twenty-five years. At 
 this assemblage, curiously enough, we 
 students of 1828, as we used to say jokingly 
 to each other then, had four great and 
 twelve little poets among us — there were 
 really sixteen who had published verses at 
 that time. Now after the lapse of twenty- 
 five years it is said that I, who was, even 
 at that time, reckoned the greatest among 
 my comrades, am also the only one who 
 has stuck to poetry, and of the then twelve 
 little poets only one has become great, — 
 namely Paludan Miiller, author of the 
 delightful poem, ''Adam Homo." At this 
 year's commemoration, Clarsen, the former 
 Danish minister, proposed a graceful toast 
 to young literature in Denmark, and alluded 
 particularly to Paludan Miiller and myself. 
 Further, all the other comrades who are 
 now officials, town councillors, clergymen. 
 
312 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDKKSEiN S 
 
 and landed proprietors, agreed to found a 
 sort of memorial of this student-year, and 
 to collect a sum of money, the interest of 
 which would in time be devoted to a young 
 Danish poet without a recognised position. 
 The fund is to receive the name of 
 '* The Andersen-Paludan-Miiller Legacy." 
 The idea is happy, and I rejoice at the 
 recognition of my university friends. 
 
 For the most part I live pretty quietly, as 
 the new Danish edition of my collected 
 works keeps me fully occupied. Our theatre 
 is bringing out many novelties by Hertz, 
 Hauch, and Overskou. Much is expected 
 of a new ballet by Bournonville, '*A Popu- 
 lar Tradition," with music by Niels Gade 
 and Hartmann. The sculptor Jerichau is 
 working at a colossal David, destined by 
 the University to stand in front of the 
 Church of our Lady, as a vis-a-vis to a 
 similar statue, '' Moses," by Bissen. 
 
 And now farewell, my dear Grand-Duke. 
 Even if I do not soon receive a letter from 
 you, I shall yet know that your Royal 
 Highness remembers me with a true and 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 3 I 3 
 
 sympathising heart. Your anxiety for your 
 people and country claims your time. 
 Perhaps I may yet live to see your Royal 
 Highness in Denmark, where you have now 
 relations. 
 
 I beg that your Royal Highness will 
 kindly remember me to the Grand-Duchess 
 and your Royal mother. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to the poet S, H. Mosenthal^ in 
 Vienna, 
 
 Copenhagen, \Wt January 1854. 
 
 Dear Herr Mosenthal, — In October I 
 received your friendly letter, with a copy of 
 " The Sonnwendhof," vvhich you have so 
 confidently placed at my "complete disposal." 
 
 ^ Mosenthal (Solomon Herman), dramatic poet, of Jewish 
 extraction, born 14th January 1821, at Cassel. All his 
 dramas are clever and effective, but they are said to be 
 lacking in psychological truth. He wrote the libretti for 
 several operas, among others Nicolai's " Merry Wives of 
 Windsor," Mosenthal died at Vienna 17th February 1877. 
 
314 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 I ought perhaps to have written to you at 
 the time and expressed my thanks, but I was 
 so much interested in your poetical work, 
 and had so great a desire to attack the same 
 at once, that I was quite convinced that this 
 practical interest would say more than a 
 letter. I received the child of your genius 
 with real pleasure, and I venture to believe, 
 which is also acknowledged here in this 
 country, that I have reproduced it in the 
 Danish language as you would have com- 
 posed it yourself in that tongue. Very little 
 is omitted. On the contrary, I have — ac- 
 cording to my own and the general opinion 
 — improved the piece for our use, and also 
 for the national stage, by giving a kind of 
 explanation by means of added choruses and 
 songs, for which I have chiefly used popular 
 melodies. As soon as I had finished your 
 piece I read it myself to the manager and 
 the actors, and I can assure you that it was 
 received with an appreciation and interest 
 which was proved to be justified during all 
 the rehearsals and at the representation. As 
 this piece was the first novelty with which 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 315 
 
 they thought of opening the present season, 
 I did not wish — as several weeks had already 
 gone by — to write to you till I could tell you 
 how it had been received by the public. 
 Some fresh decorative painting had to be 
 done. The musical arrangements and some 
 cases of illness caused the performance to 
 be postponed for a time, but last Wednesday 
 ''The Sonnwendhof" was played, for the 
 first time, under the Danish title, "En Lands- 
 byhistorie" (A Village Story), which is 
 more comprehensible to the masses. The 
 Casino Theatre holds about 2,500 people, 
 and all the seats were taken. The Royal 
 Princess, as well as the Landgraf William of 
 Hesse, Prince Frederick William, and the 
 Hereditary Prince Ferdinand had engaged 
 boxes for the first performance. The piece 
 was followed by every one with special 
 interest, and was received with unusual en- 
 thusiasm throughout, and particularly towards 
 the end. An excellent young actress made 
 her ddbut here as Monica, and contributed 
 very largely to the success of the piece by 
 her well-considered and artistic acting. Two 
 
3T6 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 of our most talented artists, Herr and 
 Madame Rosenkilde, played excellently, and 
 all the others, without exception, filled their 
 parts well. The piece has been criticised in 
 the same spirit in all the papers I have 
 read. It is extolled as one of the most 
 important and best that has originated 
 in Germany of late years. The name of 
 Mosenthal has therefore a good reputation 
 here in Copenhagen, and I venture to hope 
 that the piece may soon reach Norway and 
 Sweden. As soon as it is printed in Danish 
 from my reproduction I will send you a copy. 
 It will interest you to see how much you can 
 understand of the Danish language now that 
 you know the words and contents in the 
 original. That people are able to read it 
 here will procure still greater recognition for 
 your works in this country, which you so 
 highly deserve, and I feel myself especially 
 rewarded, for I see a work known and prized 
 of which I recognised the merit on the first 
 and only occasion when I saw it abroad. 
 
 In the final scene I have made Anna 
 snatch a piece of burning wood from the 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 317 
 
 hearth and illuminate Mathias with it, by 
 which the memory of the ''Song of the Forge" 
 becomes still clearer to both, and this novelty 
 was proved at the representation to be fine 
 and impressive. I send you a programme of 
 the performance under a wrapper, which you 
 will doubtless receive with this letter. 
 
 The verdict of the public and the criticism 
 of the papers are, as your merit deserves, 
 particularly attractive and laudatory, and I 
 am glad to have been able to show my 
 countrymen such a highly interesting and 
 poetical work as " The Sonnwendhof." 
 Through my publisher I take the liberty of 
 sending you some of my books in the Ger- 
 man edition. — Your friend, 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to the Grand- Dtcke of Weimar. 
 Copenhagen, 2nd April 1854. 
 
 This is my birthday. I have seen nearly 
 all my friends around me to-day. The per- 
 
3l8 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 fume of the flowers which they have brought 
 me fills my study. Outside the sun is shining 
 so delightfully. On this fete day of the 
 Danes (in commemoration of the battle on 
 the Rhede in the year 1801). I can see 
 from my windows all the flags floating on 
 the ships in the harbour. A steamer is 
 flying past with hundreds of Copenhageners 
 who wish to visit the English fleet in the 
 Kjogebugt, only a few miles from here ; 
 and in the midst of this busy life my thoughts 
 fly to the dear ones whom I would so much 
 like to see — so very much — on this my 
 birthday. You, my dear, noble Grand- Duke 
 stand, it is true, so high in the world of 
 rank, and yet my soul may fly to you when 
 I think of your friendship and your kind- 
 ness to me. God bless you, noble sir ! 
 
 During the winter and early spring we 
 have had very many balls, parties, and car- 
 nival fetes in Copenhagen, and, as I felt 
 strong enough to accept Invitations, I have 
 participated n nearly everything. Prince 
 Frederick of Hesse gave a large grand 
 masked ball In February. Especially ex- 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 319 
 
 cellent were the two quadrilles of Mousque- 
 talres. The costumes were throughout taste- 
 ful and magnificent. Later, In the begin- 
 ning of March, the young artists gave a 
 carnival for gentlemen only. A special 
 feature of the youthful fun was an *' Or- 
 chestra from Noah's Ark," — that is to say, a 
 collection of animals who performed a 
 long piece of music under the direction of 
 a clown. Among other things there was a 
 very funny fish and a very remarkable 
 featherless hen. After that a carnival was 
 given In the casino for the benefit of the 
 poor widows of artists. Several of the pro- 
 fessors at the Academy of Art formed a 
 committee, and I was one of them. I had 
 written all the dramatic scenes and all the 
 songs. The beautiful Pergola-Casino, with 
 the great fountain, was turned into a garden, 
 with excellently and artistically arranged 
 palms, flowers, and fresh foliage from the 
 Royal garden. The members of the Royal 
 house and the corps diplo^natique were 
 present. The students also gave a car- 
 nival in aid of a new club-house. In bright 
 
320 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 variety one saw comedy, tragedy, and the 
 ballet. Everything was short and parodied. 
 About two thousand people moved through 
 the large luxurious salons. 
 
 Now the spring is blowing, and it is my 
 intention to go medio magi by Vienna to 
 Venice, and from there to Munich and 
 Weimar. It is true the Danish edition of 
 my works detains me, but I must free my- 
 self for six to eight weeks, for I long to 
 
 go- 
 In a few weeks I hope, if God wills, to 
 
 see your Royal Highness, and offer you my 
 good wishes. The journey will be, as I 
 have said, a short and quick one, but I 
 must go to Weimar, if only for a few days, to 
 see you. I beg you to tender my respect- 
 ful regards to your exalted Consort and 
 Royal mother. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Andersen to Charles Dickens. 
 
 March 1857. 
 
 My Dear Charles Dickens, — In an old 
 manor-house a few miles from Dresden, 
 belonging to some German friends, your 
 welcome letter reached me. That was in 
 the summer, and yet it is only now that 
 my thanks wing their way to you. I do 
 not fear, my friend, that you will doubt my 
 real regard for you ; but I was ill abroad, 
 returned ill to Denmark, and was thus 
 unable to write at once. When I felt well 
 again, I was occupied with my new 
 novel — which I had had in my mind for two 
 years and now for the first time committed 
 to paper. All three volumes were in 
 manuscript by the beginning of the New 
 Year, then I made a fair copy of them, 
 and they are now at last in the press. I 
 hope the novel will appear in May, in 
 English, German, and Danish. I believe 
 that it will surpass everything that I have 
 
122 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 previously written, and will certainly mark 
 a stage in my development that I have 
 not hitherto reached. I shall be exceed- 
 ingly happy to hear your honest opinion 
 of it. You must thus prove your friend- 
 ship and read the book. That you and 
 your wife are always in my thoughts, 
 you will perceive from my intention, God 
 willing, of visiting you in England this 
 summer to spend a short time with you. 
 I beg you to send me a few lines, in April 
 at the latest, to say whether you will be 
 in London this summer, and at what 
 period I may be certain of finding ycu 
 there for about a week, for it is not for 
 London's sake I am coming to England. 
 The visit is for you alone. You must 
 therefore grant me a word or two, or per- 
 haps your wife will be so kind as to write ; 
 for without receiving this answer I shall 
 go to Switzerland, and wait another year 
 till I can meet you in England. 
 
 " Little Dorrit " enthrals me entirely. I 
 would and must admire you for the sake of 
 this one book alone, even if you had not 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 323 
 
 previously bestowed upon the world those 
 splendid compositions, " David Copperfield," 
 '' Nelly," ^ and the rest. When I last saw 
 and spoke with you in England some twelve 
 years ago, and felt a greater regard for 
 you, if possible, than before, you presented 
 me with your published works, which are 
 a real treasure to me. I possess the later 
 books, but you must give me a copy of 
 " Little Dorrit " when we greet each other 
 again, for it will certainly never find a more 
 appreciative admiring reader than myself. 
 Heaven grant that my " To Be or Not to 
 Be " may raise me a step higher as an author 
 in your opinion. Keep a corner in your heart 
 for me. Kind remembrances to your dear 
 wife, and children, who still dwell in my 
 memory as little ones, although they are now 
 big, and have grown twelve years older ! 
 God's blessing and delight be yours, as you 
 delight us all ! — Your faithful 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 ^ This is apparently meant for little Nell in " The Old 
 Curiosity Shop." 
 
324 HANS C. ANDERSEN'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Charles Dickens ta Andersen. 
 
 Tavistock House, Lotudon, jrd April 1857. 
 
 My Dear Hans Andersen^ — I received 
 your welcome letter the day before yester- 
 day, and immediately proceed to answer it. 
 I hope my answer will at once decide you 
 to make your summer visit to us. 
 
 We shall not be at home here in London 
 itself after the first week of June, but we 
 shall be at a little country house I have, 
 only twenty-seven miles away. It is on a 
 line of railroad, and within an hour and a 
 half of London, in a very beautiful part of 
 Kent. You shall have a pleasant room 
 there with a charming view, and shall live 
 as quietly and wholesomely as in Copenhagen 
 itself. If you should want, at any time 
 while you are with us, to pass the night 
 in London, this house, from the roof to the 
 cellar, will be at your disposal. A servant, 
 who is our friend also, who lived with us 
 many years and is now married, will be 
 
CHARLES DICKENS. 
 
HANS C. ANDERSEN'S CORRESPONDENCE. 327 
 
 taking care of it ; and she will take care 
 of you too with all her heart. 
 
 So, pray, make up your mind to come to 
 England. We shall be at this place I 
 mention, within an hour and a half's ride, 
 all through the summer, and if you will let 
 me know when we may expect you, we 
 shall look forward to that time with most 
 cordial pleasure. 
 
 I am very much interested in what you 
 tell me of your new novel, and you may 
 be very sure that it will have no more 
 attentive and earnest reader than it will 
 find in me. I am impatient for its publica- 
 tion. ''Little Dorrit" at present engages me 
 closely. I hope to finish her story by 
 about the end of this month, and that done 
 you will find me in the summer quite a 
 free man, playing at cricket and all manner 
 of English open-air games. 
 
 The two little girls you saw at Broad- 
 stairs, when you left England, are young 
 women now, and my eldest boy is more than 
 twenty years old. But we have children 
 of all sizes, and they all love you. You 
 
328 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 will find yourself in a house full of admir- 
 ing and affectionate friends, varying from 
 three feet high to five feet nine. Mind, 
 you must not think any more of going to 
 Switzerland. You must come to us. 
 
 With kind regard from all my family, 
 believe me, my dear Andersen, affection- 
 ately and cordially yours, 
 
 Charles Dickens. 
 
 Anderseri to Charles Dickens. 
 
 Copenhagen, J4th April 1857. 
 
 My Dear Charles Dickens, — Your letter 
 has made me infinitely happy ! It has 
 quite possessed me ; I am overcome with 
 joy at the thought of being with you for 
 a short time, of living in your house and 
 forming one of your circle ! You do not 
 know how much I value it, and how, in my 
 heart, I thank God, yourself, and your wife ! 
 
 Tell her, tell your children big and little. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 329 
 
 what a festival that will be for me ; and yet 
 in the midst of my infinite joy I have one 
 sorrow. Yes, I may just as well say it, for it 
 is a thing that will be noticed directly we 
 meet, and that is, that I speak English 
 very badly — yes, I fear even worse than 
 the last time I found myself in your family 
 circle. At that time I had been three 
 months in England, and now I have not 
 been there for twelve years, and here at 
 home I have had no practice, and am 
 coming over to you direct from my Danish 
 fatherland ! I shall express myself like a 
 veritable Kasper Hauser, and I am rather 
 despairing about it ; but my longing and 
 affection will endeavour to speak to you 
 as well as possible. I shall overcome both 
 my fear, as well as my vanity, at not being 
 able to speak well, and am also convinced 
 that I shall hourly make grand progress in 
 your mother tongue once I am with you. 
 I think of joining you on the roth or 12th 
 of June, but you will receive more definite 
 news regarding the day of my arrival. 
 You will doubtless inform me during the 
 
330 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 first weeks of May of the address, at 
 what railway station I must aHght between 
 Dover and London, and where I shall 
 then find your house. The conclusion of 
 '' Little Dorrit " I shall not be able to 
 read till I am in England, but how splen- 
 did to do so in your home ! 
 
 God rejoice you for this book and for 
 everything that you have already given 
 to the world. You have an extraordinary 
 large circle of admirers and friends high up 
 in the North, though I believe no one 
 can love you more sincerely than I. But 
 how much of blessing and sunshine do 
 you not throw into my life ! Only do not 
 lose patience because I express myself in 
 English with difficulty, and brokenly. I 
 should not be able to say exactly what 1 
 wished, even if I were to speak English 
 like an Englishman. 
 
 Kind regards to your wife, daughters, 
 
 and sons ! God willing, we shall then see 
 
 each other in June. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 33I 
 
 Andersen to the Queen- Dowager Caroline 
 Amelia of Denmark, 
 
 Gadshill Place, 
 Near Rochester, Kent, 14M July 1857. 
 
 Your Majesty conferred upon me the 
 high honour and sincere pleasure of per- 
 mitting me to write to your Majesty from 
 abroad. I have now been in England five 
 weeks, and have spent the whole time with 
 Charles Dickens in his charming villa at 
 Gadshill, a place which Shakespeare has 
 rendered famous by his Falstaff, who is 
 mentioned in the first part of Henry IV. 
 The whole landscape is like a garden, and 
 from the hills one can follow the winding 
 of the Thames for many a mile, and, look- 
 ing far over woods and fields, catch a 
 glimpse of the sea. There is a scent of 
 wild roses and ivy here, the air is so fresh 
 too, and inside the house itself happy 
 people live. Dickens is one of the most 
 amiable men that I know, and possesses as 
 
332 HANS C. ANDERSEN'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 much heart as intellect. The recently de- 
 ceased author Jerrold left his widow with- 
 out means. Dickens has interested himself 
 on her behalf, and through a committee, 
 including the names of Dickens, Bulwer, 
 etc., some readings and private theatricals 
 have been given, which have brought in 
 altogether a sum of over ;^2ooo sterling. 
 Dickens was very much pleased at the 
 large amount, which will be a support for 
 the poor widow. Your Majesty will cer- 
 tainly have read in the papers of a perform- 
 ance which was given in the "Gallery of 
 Illustration" for the first time in the pre- 
 sence of the Queen of England, the King 
 of the Belgians, Prince Albert, and the 
 Royal suite. Only fifty other persons, all 
 invited guests, among whom I found my- 
 self, shared the enjoyment of this repre- 
 sentation. Everything was arranged on a 
 very magnificent scale. The rarest, most 
 magnificent flowers decorated the passages 
 and stairs. The piece itself — "The Frozen 
 Deep " — is very interesting, and was only 
 performed before in Dickens' house by the 
 
LORD LYTTON. 
 
HANS C. ANDERSEN'S CORRESPONDENCE. 335 
 
 same ladles and gentlemen who acted in it 
 here. Dickens showed himself to be a 
 most excellent actor both In tragedy and 
 comedy. A farce called " Two O'clock in 
 the Morning" brought the evening to a 
 close. Dickens' two daughters, Mary and 
 Katie, played the two ladies' parts naturally 
 and well. Afterwards I saw '' The Frozen 
 Deep " played by professionals at a public 
 performance, and with all admiration for 
 Signora Ristori, I must acknowledge that 
 Dickens is far more effective than she is on 
 the stage, for he is easier in his manners. 
 The best that I have seen of this admired 
 tragic actress is her representation of Lady 
 Macbeth. The last scene, in which she 
 dies, is so harrowing, so grand, that this 
 alone would make her fame as an artist. A 
 son of the actor Kean is at present manager 
 of one of the London theatres. His repu- 
 tation consists In the artistic, glittering 
 scenery with which he has mounted Shake- 
 speare's plays. I have among other pieces 
 seen " The Tempest," in which I can al- 
 most say that one scenic wonder follows 
 
336 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 another ; but one forgets Shakespeare in the 
 pleasure of the spectacle. 
 
 I have received many invitations here, 
 but my visit in England this time is only 
 to Dickens, therefore I have not gone to 
 London, and have not been presented to 
 the Queen, but will reserve this happiness 
 for a future visit, so that I may then have 
 something special to look forward to. 
 
 ''If you are presented to the Queen," 
 Count Reventlow said to me, '' many in- 
 vitations will follow ; " and from the numer- 
 ous engagements which I had to fulfil day 
 after day the last time I was on a visit to 
 London, I was nearly made ill. The air is 
 so heavy, the coal smoke so oppressive, and 
 the heat almost unbearable. I shall there- 
 fore wisely confine this visit to the country. 
 
 The railway passes close by here, and it 
 was on this line, on the evening before I 
 paid a visit to Dickens in town, that the 
 great collision happened which has been 
 mentioned in the papers. Twelve persons 
 were killed and twenty-four injured. The 
 railway company will have a suni of 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 337 
 
 ^70,000 Sterling to pay the relatives of 
 the passengers who were killed. 
 
 Near Gadshill Place is Lord Darnley's 
 seat, with the old castle, where Queen 
 Elizabeth often visited Leicester. In the 
 neighbourhood there is a pretty village 
 church, which formerly belonged to a nun- 
 nery. The church singing I find prettier 
 than ours at home. The same melody is 
 sung to every psalm, but so wonderfully 
 gentle and soft. This moved me very 
 much the first time I visited the church. 
 On the other hand the service was too long, 
 and lasted nearly two hours. I cannot 
 maintain the devotional frame of mind 
 which I consider fitting to divine service 
 for so long a time. 
 
 The good old fashion of saying grace 
 before meals is still observed in Dickens 
 house : it is said by either Dickens or his 
 eldest daughter. 
 
 But I fear that I have already tired my 
 noble Queen with my letter, which contains 
 so little ; but If I could express in words 
 all the devotion, gratitude, and affection 
 
338 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 which I feel for your Majesty in my heart, 
 these written sheets would then not con- 
 tain so little ! God bless and protect your 
 Majesty. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to Miss Hen^^ietta Wulff. 
 
 Gadshill Place, 
 
 Hicham, near Rochester, Kent.^ 
 
 (No date.) 
 
 My Dear Sister and Friend, — Thurs- 
 day evening, the 4th of June, I left Den- 
 mark. Captain Lund let me have his cabin, 
 so I was all right, and arrived at Kiel with- 
 out being sea-sick. The first day It was 
 frightfully hot, and I only reached Uelzen 
 in Hanover, slept there, went the next day 
 to Hamm, and the following day to Co- 
 logne. The heat had half killed me : my 
 spirits were heavy, the journey oppressive, 
 and on the Monday I did not go farther 
 
 ^ See Shakespeare, Henry IV., 2nd vol. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 339 
 
 than Aachen. Here it was cold, and from 
 the moment I entered Belgium the cloud 
 over my spirits lifted. I got again into my 
 old travelling humour, slept a night in 
 Brussels, and at three o'clock in the morn- 
 ing I crossed from Calais to Dover. I 
 was very ill. It blew a gale, and up till 
 now the wind has been so high and cold 
 that I have every day been wearing my 
 winter clothes. It is like the coldest autumn, 
 and yet there is bright sunshine. 
 
 From Dover I went at once by train to 
 London, and I was told there that a train 
 would leave for Higham in a minute. I 
 changed carriages at once, but was not 
 certain whether Dickens had got my letter 
 from Brussels, and about ten o'clock in the 
 morning (it was Thursday, the nth) I 
 arrived at Higham, a little village with 
 only one solitary house near the station. 
 Here a man asked me, while I was standing 
 alone on the road, if I was going to 
 Dickens' ? I said yes, and asked him to 
 get me a carriage, but it was impossible to 
 find one. I had announced my arrival for 
 
340 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 the evening or for the next morning, and 
 thus came quite unexpectedly. The man, 
 however, took my portmanteau and all my 
 things on his truck," and we walked about 
 a mile and a half along a pretty lane to the 
 high road between Gravesend and Ro- 
 chester. Here was '' Gadshill Place," 
 Dickens' residence, a pretty little villa, with 
 trimmed hedges and a lot of laurtis corasus. 
 The reception was most cordial. Dickens 
 took me in his arms. Later on his wife 
 and children came. I have got a beautiful 
 room, and from my window I can look down 
 over Higham towards the Thames, which 
 swarms with ships. Dickens looks older, 
 and has grown a beard. And do you know 
 who he is like at home ? The artillery 
 officer Hazthansen, only more lively than 
 I have ever seen the latter. Mrs. Dickens 
 1 find pretty this time, and the eldest 
 daughter, Mary, is like her. The second, 
 Kate, has decidedly Dickens' face, such as 
 you know from his portrait. There are 
 three sons in Boulogne and four at home ; 
 the youngest, Edward Lytton Bulwer 
 
CORRESPONDENCE, 34I 
 
 Dickens, Is five years old. All the children 
 have been named after poets ; the eldest Is 
 called Charles Dickens, the second Walter 
 Landor (he starts In four weeks' time for 
 Calcutta, where he Is to be an officer, and 
 stays away for seven years). Then come 
 the sons at Boulogne : Francis Jeffrey, 
 Alfred Tennyson, Sydney Smith, and at 
 home the two youngest, Henry Fielding 
 and Edward Bulwer. Little Henry was the 
 one who liked me best. 
 
 Their family life seemed so intimate, and 
 a young lady. Miss Hogarth, who has been 
 in the house for many years, pours out the 
 tea and coffee, plays with the young Misses 
 Dickens, and seems to be a very amiable 
 and well-bred lady. Dickens himself is 
 like the best character In his books — jolly, 
 lively, happy, and cordial. I understand 
 him best as regards the language. And now 
 I have just been here eight days, and he 
 says I am making astonishing progress In 
 speaking English ; every hour It gets better. 
 But now I am speaking without any fear, 
 and even the little ones begin to under^ 
 
342 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 Stand me. Last Sunday I went to church 
 with Dickens, Miss Hogarth, Walter, and 
 Henry. The service was long, and we had 
 to walk more than half a Danish mile out 
 and home. I understood the psalms and 
 hymns, but not the parson. 
 
 Douglas Jerrold was buried last Monday. 
 Dickens followed, and I then went with him 
 to his house in London — Tavistock House. 
 From there I drove with Mrs. Dickens and 
 the daughters to the Crystal Palace, where 
 the first grand Handel Festival, with or- 
 chestra and singers, in all 2000, took place. 
 Handel's " Messiah " was sung to an 
 audience of over 12,000, who had each 
 paid two guineas (about twenty dollars 
 Danish) for the ticket. Dickens' family and 
 I were seated right opposite the Royal box. 
 The leading director of the Crystal Palace 
 conducted us to our seats, and we dined 
 with him and his wife afterwards. It was 
 like Aladdin's Palace, or rather like a fairy 
 town, with glass streets, flowers, and statues 
 in the whole building. Beautiful lotus, red, 
 blue, and white, were growing in the broad 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 343 
 
 marble canals. The music sounded so 
 strangely that my head whirled — I almost 
 wanted to cry. Outside, the fountains were 
 playing, rainbows were formed in the stormy 
 weather. It was as if we were in Undine's 
 kingdom. Never, with the exception of the 
 blue grotto, have I seen anything more 
 fairy-like. About half-past nine we re- 
 turned to London and went at once to the 
 theatre, where Ristori appeared in the 
 tragedy '' Camma." I felt no enthusiasm, 
 though she is a great artist I admit. Her 
 movements are as in a ballet. Everything 
 was pointed to the highest degree, but no 
 doubt it was right and true Italian. Dickens 
 also is not captivated with her. The next day 
 Mrs. Dickens and the daughters went back 
 to Gadshill Place, and I went to Piccadilly, 
 where Walter and I were asked to Miss 
 Coutts' house. This is the most ele- 
 gant house I have seen as yet. Miss Bur- 
 dett Coutts is one of the richest ladles In 
 England. Dickens said that her fortune 
 was immense, and Hambro mentioned her 
 yearly income as being so large, that I don't 
 
344 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 seem to understand it rightly. I think it 
 was ;^ 1 00,000. But she is at all events 
 very benevolent, builds churches, spends 
 plenty of money in charities, and does an 
 immense amount of good. I slept here last 
 night in a bedroom, the like of which I had 
 never seen before. There was a bright fire 
 and costly carpets, and from the windows one 
 looked out to the garden and to Piccadilly. 
 The large house was more than royal, and 
 at dinner and in the evening the whole 
 fashionable world of London was present. 
 Yesterday at luncheon Admiral Napier was 
 sitting at my side. He enquired after several 
 people in Copenhagen. Miss Coutts wished 
 me to see her garden outside London. She 
 drove me there yesterday. What splen- 
 dour ! What an abundance of flowers, 
 and a view of London — so wonderful ! 
 She is very straightforward, amiable, and 
 good-natured in the highest degree, and I 
 could speak much better to her than to her 
 servants, who are too haughty. I asked 
 her for every little thing I wanted, even 
 soda-water. We spoke German together, 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 345 
 
 but with all the others I spoke English. 
 There were splendid pictures in the house, 
 statues, and costly works. The visit to the 
 garden was the cause of Walter and I get- 
 ting too late to the railway station, where 
 we had to wait an hour-and-a-half last 
 night. 
 
 This letter will, of course, be read by the 
 whole family at home, and I send them all 
 my best regards. I hope your brother-in- 
 law is tolerably well. Tell your sister how 
 often I think of her. I shall be glad if, 
 when you have read the letter, you will let 
 Mrs. Laessoe read it. She shall soon hear 
 from me, and I can then tell her more things 
 about England than this contains. 
 
 You must not let the newspapers get hold 
 of this letter. You know yourself it is con- 
 fidential, and speaks about the family life 
 here, which is so lovely, and it ought to ap- 
 pear in quite another style for the unsympa- 
 thetic world. Mrs. Dickens is so gentle, 
 so motherly, quite like Agnes in '' David 
 Copperfield." The daughters are pretty and 
 unaffected, and seem very gifted, 
 
346 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 Dickens went to London this morning. 
 He is very busy with the performances which 
 are to be given for the benefit of Jerrold's 
 widow. One day he will read his Christmas 
 story ; another, there is to be a theatrical 
 performance, in which Dickens, Bulwer, 
 Thackeray, and other authors will take part, 
 also Dickens' eldest daughter, Mary, who 
 has great dramatic talents. 
 
 Last night, when I read your letter, I 
 told Dickens and his family about you, how 
 much you like him, told him about your 
 brother Christian, and your trip to America, 
 and Dickens and his family listened with 
 much sympathy. 
 
 It is very fresh out here in the country. It 
 is a part which is not much visited, but still 
 not lonely. There are fine walks and an oak 
 forest close by. My silhouettes are much 
 sought after, and I have received several 
 letters asking for my autograph. From a 
 countryman, a merchant, Hald, in Man- 
 chester, I have received an invitation to stay 
 and visit the exhibition, but I can't go. 
 Hambro, as well as Bentley, has invited me, 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 347 
 
 and probably I am going ; still, I don't think 
 I shall be so cosy as I am here. In Dickens' 
 home in London I saw in the bedroom 
 Thorwaldsen's " Night," and in our break- 
 fast-room his " Day," There were beautiful 
 pictures, and on the mantelpiece was my 
 portrait, which I had enclosed in a letter to 
 him. Here in the country I found books on 
 my table to read: "The Fairy Family," 
 *'The Thousand and One Nights," "Sir 
 Roger de Coverley " of the Spectato7^, and 
 "Works of W. Irving." You see what 
 Dickens thinks would be according to my 
 taste. Arm-in-arm Dickens and I walked 
 through the streets of London. We met 
 many, all knew me, and two used the ex- 
 pression, "Andersen, father of all children!" 
 So you see I have an immense family. I 
 wish you could be sitting here for an hour 
 at the supper table when we are chatting, 
 and Dickens tells me so much, and seems to 
 agree with me about most things. 
 
 Outside the house is a large clover field. 
 The sons and I are often lying there. There 
 is a fragrance of clover, the elder tree is in 
 
348 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 blossom, and the wild roses have an odour 
 of apples, so fresh and strong. I do not at 
 all feel as if I am in a foreign land, but as 
 if I were at home. 
 
 But now I think I have been chatting too 
 much about myself; though you say that you 
 like best to hear that. About the theatre at 
 home, about Bournonville, and the news of 
 the town, etc., you don't get anything this 
 time. You have yourself declined it. It 
 was news to me to hear about Dorph's dis- 
 missal. Please write soon, and don't let the 
 letter be too short. This is a long letter. You 
 must be satisfied with the contents. Now, 
 God bless you ! and remember me to all the 
 dear ones at home. — Your brotherly friend, 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 ** To Be or Not to Be " is published ; but 
 as yet I have heard nothing about the book. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 349 
 
 Andersen to Miss Hemnetta Wulff, 
 
 Paris, i<^ihjtdy 1857. 
 
 My Dear Sister and Friend, — Yesterday 
 afternoon I arrived here in ''sun-heated" 
 Paris, where I feel lonely, strange, not at all 
 as in London, or rather in the home of 
 Dickens. The change is too great in 
 comparison to England and Germany. 
 Still I am not unknown in France, but 
 strange. Yesterday at the Railway Station 
 at Amiens I bought a French edition of 
 my fairy tales. I saw my name peeping 
 out from the book-shelves. Early this 
 morning I rode to Dirckinck Holmfield 
 and found the two letters which you 
 have so kindly sent to me, and am so glad 
 that you are not going across the ocean, 
 but to Hastings. I should already like to 
 leave Paris to-day ; but as I was rash 
 enough to give my washing to the laundress, 
 and cannot get it back till Monday, I must 
 stay here in this rumbling hot town, where 
 
350 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 I am sitting all alone in a poky little 
 room. 
 
 Last Wednesday, the 15th July, I left 
 the family of Dickens in Gadshill Place. I 
 did not pass through London, but Maid- 
 stone, whither Dickens himself drove me 
 in a little carriage, we two all alone. I did 
 not speak much — I was sad. He was like 
 a dear brother up to the last moment. He 
 looked sadly at me when we parted, kissed 
 me, and — I travelled alone in the steam 
 serpent to Folkstone — I had to wait a 
 couple of hours for the steamer before she 
 started, and some hours afterwards I saw 
 France. I felt as deeply grieved as if I 
 had left one of my dear ones whom I should 
 never see again. The hot weather caused 
 me to stay in Amiens, and only yesterday, 
 in company with an English family, to 
 whom I was continually speaking English, 
 I arrived in Paris. I do not feel inclined 
 to read, nor to write. The criticism in 
 *' Fadrelandet," together with the heat, 
 weighs heavily on me. I wish you had cut 
 it out of the paper. It is better to know 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 35 1 
 
 the actual words than to imagine them. 
 Cut the criticism out and send it to Dresden 
 (if there is anything good in it, and surely 
 there must be some). 
 
 I wish I were in Germany. I dread to 
 get ill here in France. 
 
 Still, enough about my inner self. A little 
 more of Shakespeare's land, where I am 
 not a stranger, but the *' poet " of Den- 
 mark. Albert Smith's party was in the 
 suburbs of London, where he has a large 
 house, and lives with his brother, a young, 
 handsome, and interesting man. We dined 
 in the garden in a large tent on the lawn, 
 and drank champagne from big cups. 
 Dickens was so full of life. Mark Lemon, 
 the editor of " Punch," a jolly elderly man, 
 embraced me continually, and playfully 
 accused me of being satirical. I cannot 
 give his English words. In the evening 
 the garden was illuminated with lights in 
 bottles. A young English singer was 
 invited, together with several other ladies 
 who sang charmingly. The stars twinkled 
 beautifully ; it was glorious. Dickens told 
 
352 HANS C. ANDERSEN'S CORKESPONDENCE. 
 
 me how glad he was that a large sum had 
 been collected for Jerrold's widow. His 
 eyes sparkled. A moment later I read in 
 one of the many papers which were lying 
 about that Dickens had done it all from 
 vanity — he desired to make himself popular. 
 Horrible ! It brought tears to my eyes. 
 How unkind is the world in its judgments! 
 Oh, God ! if I do the same without think- 
 ing, then may the Lord forgive me as I 
 forgive. 
 
 Albert Smith is one of the most amiable 
 men I have ever met. You can have con- 
 fidence in him, and that is what other people 
 say about him. In Dickens' house Dickens 
 was absolutely the pearl ; Mrs. Dickens so 
 kind and good ; Mary next cared most for 
 me, and so down to the younger ones. I 
 was at home there, and I have a home ! 
 Poor Paris, thou can'st not help it that I 
 feel as if I were in a little dungeon or put 
 on the floor in a hot oven over a steam- 
 mill. I could breathe more freely under the 
 weeping willow at St. Helena. 
 
 I have had a letter from Holland. My 
 
MARK LEMON. 
 
 [From a Photograph by Mazall 
 
HANS C. ANDERSEN'S CORRESPONDENCE. 355 
 
 works will be published there In thirty 
 volumes, with my portrait. How strange 
 that all my books are flying over the world, 
 and at home I am so little appreciated — am 
 still only a poor schoolboy, always In the 
 lowest form ! If I am wronged, Denmark, 
 It Is thy shame ! Still, I have just said, I 
 forgive, as I wish to be forgiven. Oh, 
 Lord ! my heart Is warm, my feellno-s are 
 so strong ! You do not know how much I 
 suffer. And still I would not be without 
 this "to be," no matter how bitter It even 
 may be ! God bless you ! Remember me 
 kindly to your sister and all at home. — Your 
 brother, 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to the Grand- Duke of Weimar, 
 
 Maxen, near Dresden, 
 gth August 1857. 
 
 For a long time I have not written to 
 your Royal Highness. The reason I have 
 
356 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 not done so is revealed in the pages 
 of the new book, "To Be or Not to Be," 
 which I sent some time ago to your Royal 
 Highness from Leipzig. 
 
 None of my works have demanded so 
 much preparatory study as this one. I have 
 lived in the book, written it, and then re- 
 written it again and again. If your Royal 
 Highness could find time to look through 
 this book you would perhaps acknowledge 
 it to be my best, most deeply thought-out 
 work, and be satisfied with its author. You 
 will also understand and forgive me for not 
 always visibly expressing on paper my true 
 devoted thoughts, and my affection for you. 
 
 Like the '' Nightingale," of the fairy 
 tale, which always flies away from the castle 
 but ever returns after long flights abroad, 
 and sings from the heart for its Emperor, 
 so I also return to home-like Weimar, and 
 I know that I shall never be scared 
 away by a disdainful look. 
 
 When I had finished my book it was 
 the middle of May, and I was invited 
 to the summer castle of my noble Queen, 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 357 
 
 the widow of Christian VIII. I spent 
 several days there, watching the beeches 
 unfold their buds and burst into leaf, and 
 reading my new book aloud. I saw tears 
 in the Queen's eyes. Her thanks were so 
 sincere and fervent, it was the first joy that 
 my book had brought me. 
 
 At the end of May I left Denmark. 
 Charles Dickens had already invited me 
 several times to go to England. Ten years 
 had now passed since I was there and met 
 your Royal Highness and your Consort. 
 This year Dicken's invitation was still more 
 cordial and pressing. He had just bought 
 a pretty house in the country, in North Kent, 
 he wrote, where we could spend weeks to- 
 gether, and he had also just finished his 
 latest work, " Little Dorrit." I travelled to 
 England and was received there with great 
 warmth and sincerity, and remained five 
 weeks in the home of the author and friend. 
 
 It is a beautiful house situated at Gads- 
 hill, which Shakespeare has rendered fa- 
 mous through Henry IV. and Falstaff. 
 The old highway from London to Dover is 
 
358 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 close by. From the hill one looks down upon 
 the sea, Rochester, and the Thames for 
 miles long, which, with his thousand ships, 
 winds in and out like a serpent. All around 
 there was the scent of wild roses, may, and 
 lilac ; in the meadows the hay stood in stacks, 
 and inside the house all was happiness. 
 Dickens is forty-five years old, cheerful, 
 amiable, noble, and good. However highly 
 I may place him as an author, I must prize 
 him just as highly as an actor in tragedy, 
 as well as in comedy. Your Royal Highness 
 will have read recently in the papers of the 
 private performance he gave before the 
 Queen. The whole Royal family and the 
 King of the Belgians were there. Beyond 
 these there were scarcely more than forty 
 people, whom Dickens had invited by per- 
 mission of the Queen, and I was one of 
 them. The Duke of Somerset had sent 
 his gardener to decorate all the passages 
 magnificently with rare flowers. It was a 
 beautiful sight. 
 
 I went' several times to London with 
 Dickens, and stayed all night at his luxuri- 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 359 
 
 ous house, and visited all the most interest- 
 ing entertainments going on at the time. 
 I heard Handel's '' Messiah " sung by 2000 
 voices at the Crystal Palace, and saw 
 Ristori as Gemma, and twice as Lady 
 Macbeth. She only carried me away in the 
 latter role. Her mimic art seems to me to 
 belong rather to the ballet than the drama. 
 Her transit from hate to love is as rapid as 
 a transformation scene. I also saw ''The 
 Tempest," with really magical scenery ; 
 but unfortunately Shakespeare vanished in 
 the enjoyment of the eye. One forgot the 
 poet in the wonderful decorations, and re- 
 turned home as empty as if one had been 
 viewing a panorama. 
 
 I went to France by the way of Folke- 
 stone. This country has never pleased me 
 very much, and still less now. After com- 
 ing from a home such as Dickens', Paris 
 seems to me like a bee-hive without honey. 
 I only remained there three days, and hur- 
 ried to Germany. Just as I arrived at 
 Eisenach, while you were in Wilhelmsthal, 
 I learned that the Emperor of Russia had 
 
36o HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 arrived on the very same morning, on a 
 visit to your Royal Highness. I then went 
 on directly to Dresden, and on the. same 
 day left for Silesia with the Serre family, 
 on a visit to the celebrated pianist, Henselt. 
 But, first of all, from Leipzig I sent my 
 new book, as the author's visiting card, to 
 the Royal house, as a nosegay for you, 
 my noble sir! 
 
 Frau Serre has told me of her pleasant 
 meeting with your Royal Highness on the 
 steamer, and commissions me to express her 
 thanks for your Royal HIghness's gracious 
 letter. The major and his wife are charm- 
 ing people ; they do everything possible for 
 me here in Maxen. What a beautiful world 
 it is ! How good people are ! 
 
 But I must now return home. I have 
 already been absent far too long ; but 
 through report and writing I am still with 
 you in spirit ! and if your Royal Highness 
 has read ^' To Be or Not to Be," I shall 
 receive a few words in Copenhagen. 
 
 On the 3rd of September, when the 
 monument will be unveiled, my thoughts 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 361 
 
 win turn to Weimar. I shall hear the sing- 
 ing through the grounds of the Wartburg, 
 and shall think of Carl Alexander ! To be 
 there personally would be still nicer, but I 
 must renounce that Idea. The Royal Dan- 
 ish Theatre begins Its representations on 
 the 1st of September, and I have business 
 connected with It, so must absolutely be 
 present. 
 
 To go to Weimar every year — I was 
 there last year and the year before — might 
 also easily tend to wear out my welcome. 
 It Is, therefore, quite fortunate to be obliged 
 not to become too Importunate. 
 
 Farewell ! From the North the carrier 
 pigeon goes again to dear Weimar. May 
 happiness rest upon your home and your 
 country ! 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
362 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 Andersen to the Grand-Duke of Wei7?iar. 
 
 Maxen, near Dresden, 
 nth August 1857. 
 
 Your welcome letter has given me great 
 pleasure, and proves your goodness. Your 
 Royal Highness expresses a wish ''that I 
 should come to the fete, or war will be 
 declared." This overcomes all obstacles, and 
 I will come — not on account of the festivities, 
 but to prove my gratitude and devotion to 
 you. 
 
 I am writing to-day to Copenhagen, to say 
 that I shall not arrive there till the 9th or the 
 loth. I shall come to Weimar at the end of 
 August, and will remain, as your Royal 
 Highness wishes me, until the morning of the 
 7th ; then I must leave. My only anxiety is, 
 that when I arrive at Weirhar or Eisenach 
 all the hotels may be full, as is to be ex- 
 pected at such a fete, and then what am I 
 to do? In this case I shall certainly betake 
 myself to the lord of the land. In the 
 " Fairy Tale of my Life" I have mentioned 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 3^3 
 
 the 5th of September as a fateful day for me. 
 Every year I celebrate this day quietly. It 
 was on the 5th of September that I came, a 
 poor child, for the first time to Copenhagen. 
 Then my battles and struggles began. By 
 chance I also went over the Alps to Italy on the 
 5th of September for the first time, and from 
 there, by means of the '' Improvisatore," my 
 name as an author was established in foreign 
 countries. And yet again, on the 5th of 
 September, I was present at the table of my 
 dearly-beloved King, Christian VIII., in 
 the island of Fohr. It was the twenty-fifth 
 anniversary of my first arrival in Copen- 
 hagen. The King stood by me like a friend, 
 if I may say so, and was sympathetic and good. 
 He spoke of my achievements, and of what 
 I had overcome. Now I am once more to 
 quietly celebrate my fete with you, my dear 
 Grand- Duke, whom I honour more than you 
 can imagine. It will be a new pleasure and 
 remembrance for me. 
 
 God preserve you ! 
 
 Give your Royal Consort my most sincere 
 thanks for her gracious remembrances which 
 
364 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 she sent me through your Royal High- 
 ness. Frau Serre is very much gratified by 
 the Grand-Duke's greeting, and takes the 
 Hberty of returning the same. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Charles Dickens to Andersen. 
 
 Gadshill Place, Higham, by Rochester, 
 Wednesday, 27id September 1857. 
 
 My Dear Andersen, — I have been away 
 from here — at Manchester — which is the 
 cause of this slow and late reply to your 
 two welcome letters. 
 
 You are in your own home again by this 
 time, happy to see its familiar face, I do 
 not doubt, and happy in being received 
 with open arms by all good Danish men, 
 women, and children. 
 
 Everything here goes on as usual. 
 Baby (too large for his name this long 
 while !) calls " auntie " all over the house, 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 365 
 
 and the dogs come dancing about us, and 
 go running down the green lanes before 
 us, as they used to do when you were 
 here. But the days are shorter and the 
 evenings are darker, and when we go up to 
 the monument to see the sunset, we are 
 obliged to go directly after dinner, and it 
 gets dark while we are up there, and as 
 we pass the grim dog, who rattles his 
 chain, we can hardly see his dim old eyes 
 as we feed him with biscuit. The w^ork- 
 men, who have been digging in that well 
 in the stableyard so long, have found a 
 great spring of clear, bright water, and 
 they got rather drunk when they found 
 it (not with the water, but with some gin 
 I gave them), and then they packed up 
 their tools and went away, and now^ the big 
 dog and the raven have all that place 
 to themselves. The corn-fields that were 
 golden when you were here are ploughed 
 up brown. The hops are being picked, the 
 leaves on the trees are just beginning to 
 turn, and the rain is falling as I write — 
 very sadly — very steadily. 
 
366 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 We have just closed our labour in re- 
 membrance of poor Jerrold, and we have 
 raised for his widow and daughter two 
 thousand pounds. On Monday I am going 
 away (with Collins) for a fortnight or so 
 into odd corners of England, to write some 
 descriptions for "Household Words." When 
 I come back I shall find them dining here 
 by lamplight. And when I come back I 
 will write to you again. 
 
 I never meet any of the friends whom 
 you saw here but they always say, " How's 
 Andersen ? — where's Andersen ? " — and I 
 draw imaginary pictures of where you are, 
 and declare that you desired to be heartily 
 remembered to them. They are always 
 pleased to be told this. I told old Jerdans 
 so, the other day, when he wrote to me, 
 asking when he was to come and see you. 
 
 All the house send you their kind regards. 
 Baby says you shall not be put out of the 
 window when you come back. I have 
 read **To Be or Not to Be," and think it 
 a very fine book — full of a good purpose, 
 admirably wrought out — a book in every way 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 367 
 
 worthy of its great author. Good-bye, dear 
 Andersen. Affectionately your friend, 
 
 Charles Dickens. 
 
 Andersen to Miss Henrietta Wulff. 
 
 Cassel, dth September 1857. 
 
 My Dear Sister and Friend, — This day 
 thirty-eight years ago I, a poor child, arrived 
 at Copenhagen. To-day I arrived here in the 
 town of Cassel, from Weimar. Cassel is just 
 the town my old grandmother spoke about, 
 and told me that her grandmother was once 
 a grand lady there, *'but she eloped with a 
 strolling player, and from that day none of 
 her kindred would acknowledge her." Per- 
 haps they would now acknowledge her child. 
 This thought fills me now while I am sitting 
 here in this dull town. Your letter — the 
 second to Weimar — I received last night as 
 I went to the last fete in the theatre — a concert 
 of Liszt's. Thanks, my heartfelt thanks, for 
 
368 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 the affectionate letter. I read it over again 
 in the theatre, as otherwise the music would 
 have killed me. Everything was Liszt. I 
 could not follow this wildness — this, as I think, 
 thoughtless composition. They played with 
 the cymbals, and I thought a plate had 
 dropped. But the audience was in raptures, 
 and it rained wreaths ! It is a strange world! 
 
 Since I left Maxen I have not been quite 
 well. For the moment I have got a cold, so I 
 am scarcely able to speak. This I caught again 
 this year from the festivities in Weimar, the 
 heat and the draught: those two will kill me. 
 
 I have sent the programme in a letter to 
 Bille. I think it will be in "Dagbladet." You 
 can read it there — there is not a word about 
 me — and then I will speak to you only about 
 myself, and how true and good the reigning 
 Grand-Duke always is towards me. The 
 whole family is so kind to me, and treat me as 
 if I belonged to the house. The Grand- 
 Duke embraced me, — kissed me on both 
 cheeks when I came and when I left, — and at 
 all the festivities where we met (and he 
 walked about and spoke to everybody) he al- 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 369 
 
 ways shook hands with me. You may say 
 "it Is very Httle,*' but I repeat ''it Is very 
 much Indeed from a man Hke him, educated 
 in the strictest etiquette!" This morning I 
 was sitting with him. He wanted me to go to 
 Wartburg, whither he went with Piicklu- 
 Muskau, but I told him I would rather go 
 home ; and when I again visit Germany I 
 have been invited by the Governor of Wart- 
 burg to stay a couple of days as his guest, 
 where Luther has been. What a contrast I 
 feel it ; still I am glad. This morning I re- 
 ceived the silver and bronze medal for the 
 Carl August centenary. 
 
 I have made the acquaintance of Schiller's 
 family, and they have invited me to their 
 estate. They all say that I am remarkably 
 like Schiller, and I cannot deny that, as the 
 Schiller-Goethe monument was unveiled, — 
 you know that both poets stand on one 
 pedestal, — I was surprised at the likeness be- 
 tween Schiller's bust and my own. It Is a 
 splendid work of Rietschel's. I have made 
 his acquaintance here. He seems of a kindred 
 
 nature to BIssen! The three dramatic nota- 
 
 2 A 
 
370 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 bilitles, — Emil Devrlent, Davison, and Miss 
 Seebach, — assisted at the festivals, and all 
 three received me most cordially. So do all 
 the German authors who are gathered here, 
 especially Auerbach, the excellent author of 
 "Dorfgeschichten." At court they paid me 
 very great attention, and — I dare only tell 
 you this — on the railway there happened to- 
 day what has happened before. When people 
 hear that I am Danish they speak about 
 Thorwaldsen, Oehlenschlager, Oersted, and 
 when I say sadly, ''They are dead," the reply is 
 that ''Andersen is still living! " I feel so small, 
 and almost believe it is a vain dream. Oh 
 God, can I be mentioned with these three ! 
 
 At the festivities were Frau von Goethe 
 and both her sons, Wolff and Walther. Frau 
 von Goethe wrote me a very nice letter, 
 thanking me for "Sein oder nicht sein." 
 What I have written about "Faust" had 
 pleased her. It was rather strange at the 
 court dinner to see young Goethe, who was 
 chamberlain-in-walting, serving the soup. 
 
 The Grand-Duke's two sisters, Princess 
 Carl and the Princess of Prussia, have been 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 37 1 
 
 here all the time. I have spoken to them 
 several times, as well as to the foreign 
 Princess. Remarkably enough, they know my 
 books, and you can understand that, when the 
 Royal family received me so cordially, the 
 whole court is also amiable. But still I cannot 
 help thinking of the Danish Mr. Petersen, 
 from the defunct "Monthly Magazine for 
 Literature" down to poor Petersen in the 
 columns of "Fadrelandet." If they had seen 
 it, they would surely have spoken milder than 
 they have done. Just in the brilliancy of the 
 court I am thinking of these people ; they 
 never enter my thoughts when a Dickens, a 
 Humboldt, Liebig, or Carl Alexander presses 
 my hand in loving sympathy. Perhaps I am 
 not thankful enough to God when I let the 
 small things affect me, but I believe it has its 
 reason in my first appearance under such poor 
 circumstances. My own life is still the 
 strangest fairy tale. 
 
 GOTTINGEN, Zth September 1857. 
 
 The next page I am beginning in Got- 
 tingen, where I arrived yesterday, and went 
 
372 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 to bed at once. I have got a very bad cold 
 and a dreadful headache. Still I hope to 
 reach Hanover to-day, and I shall then post 
 this letter. I intended to write another letter 
 to-day and enclose it, — a letter to Mathilde 
 Oersted, — but I cannot. My head is in a 
 whirl — I feel weak ; but you will kindly tell 
 her and her mother how I am, and say that I 
 always expected to hear when they arrived 
 in Copenhagen, and would then write. I had 
 thought to reach Copenhagen Sunday or 
 Monday next, but it can scarcely be done. 
 As I am now I must make shorter journeys ; 
 and I shall stay a day or two at Basnoes or 
 Soroe, God willing. Remember me kindly to 
 your sister, brother-in-law, and all who still 
 remember — Yours truly, 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Hanover, Afternoon^ 8th September. 
 
 I ARRIVED here with a frightful headache. 
 Shall not pay any visits. Am not going to the 
 theatre, but to bed, so that I can get a little 
 more northward to-morrow. 
 
 Adieu ! 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 373 
 
 Andersen to the Grand- Duke of Weimar, 
 
 Sor5e, Dp:nmark, 22nd Septembet 1857. 
 
 I SHALL remain forever grateful to your 
 Royal Highness for the beautiful days in 
 Weimar, and for all the kindness and cor- 
 diality with which you received me. 
 
 Unfortunately I have been unwell since 
 my departure from Weimar, where I took 
 a severe chill at the festivities, I arrived, 
 feeling ill, at Cassel, proceeded slowly by 
 way of Gottingen, Hanover, and Hamburg 
 to Copenhagen. I feared that it might de- 
 velop into typhus fever, for my head felt 
 like splitting. The cholera was in Ham- 
 burg, but it was not much talked about. 
 People spoke more of the cholera in Corsor, 
 whither I was bound by steamer. We 
 arrived very early one lovely morning, and 
 remained a few hours in the unpleasant 
 town, till the train left for Copenhagen. 
 Here, too, there were a few cholera cases, 
 and therefore my doctor wished me to leave 
 
374 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 again immediately, and go to the country 
 until the winter. It was very inconvenient 
 for me, as the Royal Theatre had just 
 opened, and I had several pieces coming 
 on which required my presence ; but I had 
 to go, for even in the street where I live 
 there were a few cases of cholera. On the 
 Monday I went to the little university town 
 of Soroe, eight miles from Copenhagen, but 
 only four from Corsor. Here I have been 
 most comfortably put up by the old Danish 
 poet Ingemann, the Nestor of Danish 
 poets ; but I am not yet myself, for the 
 cold will not leave me, and I find it diffi- 
 cult to write, especially in a foreign tongue. 
 This is indeed written very badly, but your 
 Royal Highness will read it with the heart, 
 and certainly understand the true beating of 
 mine. After our agreement and my pro- 
 mise I could delay no longer, and must let 
 you know where I am, how I live, and 
 what I am doing. If you will send me a 
 few lines soon they may be addressed to 
 Copenhagen, for I shall return there as soon 
 as my doctor allows me. Here, in Soroe, I 
 
CORRESPONDENCE 375 
 
 am, as I have already said, only four miles ^ 
 from Corsor. People can arrive in two hours 
 by rail, but the cold weather and fresh air 
 of the last few days have brought about a 
 great improvement in that town. When at 
 Weimar I wrote an account of the festivi- 
 ties for one of our best papers, which has 
 since been reprinted in several others. I 
 shall soon send a little fairy tale in German 
 to the " Weimar Monatsschrift," and if God 
 wills, I shall write a long and cheerful 
 letter, but if I must die my spirit will 
 hover in love and gratitude over you. 
 
 My most respectful greeting to her Royal 
 Highness the Grand- Duchess. God bless 
 and rejoice you and the house of Weimar. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to Charles Dickens. 
 
 SOROE, September 1857. 
 
 My Dear Dickens, — I am now again in 
 Denmark, but was only two days in Copenha- 
 
 1 Danish mile— about 4 English miles. 
 
3/6 
 
 gen, where I received your long-hoped-for 
 letter. Thank you for it. I am again far 
 from the town and out in the country, where 
 my physician sent me immediately, as some 
 cholera cases had just shown themselves on 
 my arrival. It has also broken out in other 
 towns, but most severely in Corsor. It is 
 a miserable time to come home. It is as if 
 I had come from the warm sunshine into 
 a cold, damp cloud, and into the bargain 
 I am unable to shake off a cold which I 
 took at Weimar festivities. Otherwise I 
 had a happy time there. The Grand- Duke 
 received me as heartily and kindly as only 
 my best and dearest friend could. I really 
 felt that to him I was a welcome guest. 
 He Is so noble and good, I think very 
 highly of him. 
 
 People had streamed Into the town from 
 all parts of Germany round about. Flags 
 and banners waved from towers and houses, 
 wreaths and garlands were everywhere, and 
 in addition the weather was fine, par- 
 ticularly so on the day when the Wieland 
 Statue, and afterwards the two poet-figures, 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 37/ 
 
 Schiller and Goethe, both cast in bronze 
 and standing on one and the same pedestal, 
 were unveiled. At the theatre single acts 
 from Schiller's and Goethe's tragedies were 
 played, a division which I do not like. 
 Emil Devrient, Davison, and Fraulein See- 
 bach, — three of the most notable of German 
 artistes, — contributed by their talent to the 
 successes of the festival. Devrient, with 
 whom I conversed a great deal, begged me 
 to send you the warmest greeting. We 
 talked a great deal about you and England. 
 On September 6th I left Weimar with a 
 severe cold and a frightful headache. I 
 was therefore compelled to take the 
 journey in short stages, and to stop in 
 Cassel, Gottingen, and Hanover, as well 
 as in Hamburg. In the latter town was 
 the cholera, a disease which I fear the most 
 of any. When I got to Denmark I did not 
 escape the epidemic. It was raging in the 
 little town of Corsor, to which the steamer 
 from Kiel brought me ; and when, after a 
 few hours' stay, I reached Copenhagen, my 
 physician received me with the question a^ 
 
3/8 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 to what I wanted there under the circum- 
 stances. I remained, notwithstanding, two 
 days, and then, as there were several cases, 
 particularly in my neighbourhood, I at once 
 went away to the little university town of 
 Soroe, which lies in the midst of forest 
 solitudes on the shores of a large inland 
 lake. The Nestor of Danish poets, Inge- 
 mann, lives here with his respected, excel- 
 lent wife. I have now been for more 
 than a week the guest of these dear old 
 people. The air here, however, during this 
 time is not at all good, and the exhalations 
 from the lake are by no means agreeable. 
 Corsor is scarcely two hours by rail 
 from Copenhagen, and the trains are running 
 daily backwards and forwards with tra- 
 vellers. In the midst of all this depression, 
 where thought and speech might be so 
 easily concentrated on what is dismal here 
 at home, the attention is first fixed on the 
 English in India. The course of events there 
 is followed with tears and anxious hearts. 
 You have now doubtless heard from 
 Walter? Do not forget when you write 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 379 
 
 to tell me how he is ! All my friends 
 and acquaintances — nay, I can safely say 
 every one who comes in contact with me — 
 enquire most sympathetically after Charles 
 Dickens, and all the family at Gadshill. 
 They extol my good fortune, and envy me 
 my visit at your house. That will also 
 never be obliterated from my memory, and 
 particularly you, who stand before me so 
 unchangeable in goodness and amiability, 
 who show no sign of variableness. How 
 often I call to mind the kind, cordial voice 
 with which your amiable wife told me more 
 than once that I was truly welcome to you, 
 and that you so much liked to have me ! I 
 always cherished the fear that you would 
 get tired of me, — the stranger who could not 
 speak your language properly. With such 
 a feeling as that, one is all eyes and ears 
 down to one's finger tips ; though I felt 
 and understood that here, too, man and wife 
 were of one thought and one mind. God 
 bless you for it ! Greet your daughters and 
 sons as well as Miss Hogarth ! May I 
 dwell in your thoughts with friendliness, 
 
38o HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 as many pleasant memories of you float be- 
 fore mine dally ! 
 
 To the baby I send a special message, 
 and if Turk, Dandy, and the Raven could 
 likewise understand, I would also tie a greet- 
 ing to them beneath the wings of the carrier 
 pigeon. Collins promised me that I should 
 receive '' The Frozen Deep." I should have 
 had great pleasure in seeing it represented 
 at Copenhagen if he did not object. 
 
 You promised to give me the name of 
 the best edition of Shakespeare in one 
 volume. Thanks for the friendly words you 
 said to me about " To Be or Not to Be." 
 Let me know — that is if I may know — if 
 you will soon have another great work 
 ready. I am now thinking out a new 
 novel! Naturally it takes place In our own 
 times — I know no other. The plot is laid in 
 Denmark. It Is there where my roots are 
 planted. Good-bye, God bless and watch 
 over you. — Sincerely your faithful friend, 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 38 1 
 
 Andersen to the Grand- Duke of Weimar. 
 
 Copenhagen, 2Pth October 1857. 
 
 A FEW days ago I arrived in Copenhagen. 
 The cholera, it is true, has not yet quite dis- 
 appeared, but there are only isolated cases 
 now, — about five or six a week. 
 
 On my arrival I found a letter on my table 
 from your Royal Highness, a fresh bouquet 
 from the Wartburg, the place of which I 
 have just been reading so much, and whither 
 my thoughts so often fly, as if they were 
 looking for a background for future composi- 
 tion. The letter was so sincerely kind, and 
 characteristic of yourself, my dear sir. My 
 most hearty thanks for it. Every line 
 breathes sincerity and genuine sympathy. 
 
 I have spent the last three weeks at 
 beautiful Basnas on the Great Belt. You 
 already know the mediaeval castle from my 
 former descriptions. It stands by the sea, 
 and is surrounded by wooded hills. The 
 weather was summer-like, and I was as com- 
 
382 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 fortable there as it is possible to be with 
 dear, kind friends who are also blessed with 
 riches. And yet I yearned for my little 
 study at home, and my friends. In the 
 neighbourhood of Basnas the cholera raged 
 more than in Copenhagen. I therefore left, 
 and have been well up till now, and, if God 
 wills, I shall continue so. 
 
 Our old stage, — perhaps the oldest in 
 Europe, — has been pulled down and replaced 
 by a better and larger one. On the first of 
 December the representations will begin 
 again. Until then we shall play at the little 
 Court Theatre. There has been a split in 
 the theatrical world. Our best artiste, Frau 
 Heiberg, who must certainly also be known 
 to your Royal Highness, leaves the stage in 
 displeasure with the management. This is 
 really an event. Frau Heiberg can well be 
 classed with a Ristori, a Rachel, or even a 
 Mars. Our stage will not produce her equal 
 for centuries. 
 
 At a concert a few days ago the overture 
 in '* Tannhauser" was heard in public for the 
 first time in this town, and was much ap- 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 383 
 
 plauded, as was also Liszt's Prelude. In 
 time we shall have the whole opera of 
 " Tannhauser" performed here. It is to me 
 the most pleasing of Wagner's compositions. 
 
 Dickens' novel, " Little Dorrit," has, I 
 see, been violently attacked in England. 
 He has, however, defended himself bravely 
 and well. When I stayed in his house I saw 
 how generously and zealously he worked to 
 raise a few thousand pounds for Douglas 
 Jerrold's widow. He arranged recitations, 
 dramatic performances, and similar entertain- 
 ments, but received very poor thanks for his 
 trouble. The son of the deceased Jerrold 
 has, I hear, intimated that it was unnecessary 
 to carry round the hat to collect money for 
 his mother, as she was not left in straitened 
 circumstances. This is written after every- 
 thing had taken place and all the trouble 
 been spent on it. How ungrateful ! 
 
 I have received a letter to-day from Frau 
 Serre. She is enchanted at the cordiality 
 and graciousness with which your Royal 
 Highness has received her husband. Major 
 Serre and his wife are noble, benevolent 
 
384 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN's 
 
 people. Their kindness is extended to a 
 large circle of friends, and their hospitality is 
 well known. 
 
 I have not heard from Chancellor Beaulieu 
 whether he goes to Italy or remains in 
 Weimar this winter. His painful loss of a 
 rare wife has grieved me deeply. I often 
 think of her. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andei'sen to the Grand-Duke of Weimar. 
 
 Copenhagen, \^th December 1857. 
 
 Soon the festive Christmastide will be here. 
 I am flying from town to Basnas to pass a 
 few days in country comfort. If it were not 
 for the sea and the great stretch between 
 Copenhagen and Weimar, I should have 
 come to you for the sacred festivity. Now I 
 can only be there in thought. I can see you 
 plainly in your happy circle : I hear the 
 children's joy. May the proofs of goodness 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 385 
 
 shown to me descend upon the children. 
 Give them all my Christmas greeting. 
 
 A new lithographic portrait of me will soon 
 be ready. I shall take the liberty of sending 
 It to you, so that during the winter you may 
 have me to some extent under your eyes. I 
 have finished two new fairy tales, — perhaps 
 my best, — but they will not be printed until I 
 have a collection ready. 
 
 The Royal Danish Theatre has an entirely 
 new caste this summer. The first repre- 
 sentation was a play of Holberg's, following a 
 prologue of mine. I had the vexation of 
 seeing the actor, Professor Nielsen, who of 
 late has suffered from a very bad memory, 
 halt in the middle of my piece, lose his place, 
 and skip over no less than thirteen strophes. 
 What torture for an author to listen to ! It 
 nearly made me ill. 
 
 As I have mentioned Holberg here, our 
 Northern Moliere, I should like to recom- 
 mend to your Royal Highness a work which 
 has just appeared in Stuttgart and Augsburg. 
 It is ''Ludwig Holberg: his Life and Works, 
 
 with a Selection of his Plays," by Robert 
 
 2 B 
 
386 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 Prutz. It is certainly very anti - Danish, 
 which I much regret ; but in the main it is 
 excellent. One can see by it what import- 
 ance Holberg formerly had in Germany, and 
 his influence on the German stage. Even 
 Hagdorn sings, — 
 
 " Who laughs not with Holberg 
 Can with Goldoni weep." 
 
 In the Hamburg repertoire of 1742 to 
 1743, among the list of one hundred and 
 ninety plays which had been represented 
 in the course of years, are forty-four by 
 Holberg. The Ackermanns (husband and 
 wife)^ Eckhof and Schroder, and such artists 
 as these supported and loved Holberg. It is 
 curious that he has not been re-established in 
 his former status like Moliere and Goldoni. 
 It would redound to the credit of the German 
 stage to reproduce a piece of his, and it 
 would delight me if the Weimar theatre made 
 the first step. 
 
 In any case you will find this book by 
 Robert Prutz interesting. Read at least 
 one of the comedies ; Prutz only gives five of 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 387 
 
 them, but Holberg has written six times as 
 many. '' The Political Statemon^er," '' The 
 Lying-in Room," '' The Man who has no 
 Time," "Rasmus Montanus," "Jean de 
 France," belong to the best. In Copenhagen 
 they are performed again and again every 
 year, and have worked their way Into the 
 hearts of the people. Many phrases In 
 these comedies have become household 
 proverbs. 
 
 The state of health here is now good. 
 The cholera is over, God be praised, but It 
 still exists In Sweden. The weather Is fine, 
 and unusually mild and warm, and I already 
 feel the longing of the birds of passage. 
 May the coming year bring happiness and 
 blessing. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 I 
 
 Andersen to the Grand- Duke of Weimar, 
 Copenhagen, 12th January 1858. 
 
 On my return from the country, where 
 I spent Christmas and the first days of 
 
388 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 the New Year, I found your Royal High- 
 ness' letter and several friendly greetings 
 from Germany. Among these I must touch 
 upon one. At Maxen, near Dresden, I 
 met a young lady ^ last summer, the 
 daughter of the deceased Superintendent 
 of Police in Breslau. In a letter to her 
 afterwards I described the festivals in 
 Weimar, and among other things related 
 to her what I saw at the unveiling of 
 Goethe's and Schiller's statues^ — namely, 
 how a white butterfly fluttered around the 
 poet-heroes, and, as if it had not quite 
 made up its mind whether to settle on 
 the one or the other of them, after circling 
 round both, soared into the air. After 
 this the young lady made me a drawings 
 surrounded by an arabesque, embracing 
 many places dear to me, notably the 
 castle in Weimar, the old wings and the 
 new building, as well as the Crystal Palace 
 in London, Maxen, where the Serre family 
 live, the tree I planted there, etc., etc. 
 
 1 Fraulein Clara Frcdericka Heincke, the well-known 
 portrait-painter of Berlin. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 389 
 
 During the Christmas season I was very 
 energetic, and have written no less than 
 three new fairy tales ; one of these, '* The 
 Last Dream of an Old Oak-Tree," is pro- 
 bably one of my best. Another, '* A 
 Bachelor's Night-cap," I hope will please ; 
 the plot is laid in Eisenach and Copenhagen. 
 
 I am now writing a piece for the National 
 Theatre. Unfortunately none of my dra^ 
 matic works have yet been put upon the 
 German stage, with the exception of 
 '' Little Karin ; " but this, as your Royal 
 Highness knows, is only an opera. 
 
 Fresh fairy tales are still demanded, and 
 it is to be hoped that in the spring a new 
 volume of them will appear, and also a 
 German translation. 
 
 The desire to travel — a longing for the 
 South — is already beginning in me earlier 
 than ever on account of the fine weather. 
 It is like March now. At Christmastide 
 I found violets in the wood. 
 
 Through the publisher Lock, in Leipzig, 
 I have taken the liberty of sending your 
 Royal Highness a new portrait of myself. 
 
390 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 It is considered very successful ; I hope to 
 hear your opinion of it at your leisure. 
 
 Christmas literature was very abundant 
 this year in Denmark. Among the more 
 important items may be mentioned a novel, 
 *' The Visionary." Of remarkable pieces 
 on the stage the most conspicuous is, " The 
 King's Favourite," by Hauch. The plot 
 is laid in the time of Christian IV. 
 Jerichau the sculptor is working at a 
 bust of Christian VIII. 
 
 Fredericka Bremer is living in Rome 
 this winter. I received a letter from her 
 yesterday, in which she tells me she has 
 just finished another long novel. 
 
 Possibly I may go to Rome next winter. 
 I must see once more the native land of 
 the " Improvisatore." Between Rome and 
 Denmark lies the home-like Weimar, and 
 when in the spring everything blossoms 
 and sings, a voice within me cries, — thither 
 away ! — away ! 
 
 With the most sincere wishes for your 
 health and happiness 
 
 H, C. Andersen, 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 39 1 
 
 Andersen to the Grand- Duke of Weimar, 
 
 Copenhagen, 2Sth February 1858. 
 
 A NEW work of mine is just about to 
 appear, '* New Fairy Tales and Stories." 
 My thoughts have been concentrated on 
 this book, or else my carrier pigeon would 
 have flown over the snow and ice to 
 dear Weimar long since. I should like to 
 have had a German translation of it at 
 once, but my German publisher wishes 
 for a few more pages than the Danish 
 edition has, and would therefore rather 
 wait till September. 
 
 I should like to know if one of the 
 tales, '' The Bachelor's Night-cap," pleases 
 your Royal Highness, as I so much hope 
 it will. I have mentioned this one before; 
 the principal character is from Eisenach, 
 and his sweetheart from Weimar, and 
 their home sickness is for Thuringia. The 
 holy Elisabeth, as well as Frau Holle, 
 appear in it. It is written from my heart. 
 
392 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 These new tales, which are already pretty 
 well known in manuscript in Copenhagen, 
 have been exceedingly appreciated, and 
 that is why the Danish publisher is in 
 such a hurry to bring them out. And 
 after the happier task of composing, I 
 have lately been fully occupied with copy- 
 ing and correcting. 
 
 I should rejoice exceedingly to learn that 
 you had read these new stories with 
 pleasure. 
 
 Your Royal Highness in your last letter 
 enquired if I could write a fairy comedy 
 for the Weimar stage. I am thinking a 
 great deal about it, and should like to, 
 and should be glad if I could write it as 
 if I were a native of Weimar. There 
 will certainly be no want of effort on my 
 part. 
 
 One of my old pieces, ** More than Pearls 
 and Gold," has recently been produced 
 on the Copenhagen stage. It still seems 
 to maintain the interest of freshness. Also 
 ** Fliedermutterchen," which I have handed 
 over to your Royal Highness in the hope 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 393 
 
 that It may possibly be adapted to the 
 Weimar stage, will be revived on the 
 Danish boards. 
 
 It is now winter here — a mild one it is 
 true, but, nevertheless, the shipping communi- 
 cation with Germany is interrupted, and 
 the letters go by the longest way overland. 
 
 The 2nd of April will soon be here, and 
 then I shall be three years over fifty. It 
 is dreadful to be so old and yet so young ! 
 It would give great pleasure to me to 
 receive a letter from you on that day. 
 
 If God wills, I shall go this summer to 
 Switzerland, where I did not go last year. 
 Unfortunately I can only spend a month 
 on this trip. I am meditating a larger 
 work which I can bring out best in Den- 
 mark. 
 
 I hope that peace and joy may descend 
 upon the realm. The present contentions 
 are painful to me. 
 
 Remember me graciously to the Grand- 
 Duchess and your Royal Mother. 
 
 H. C. Andersen, 
 
394 
 
 Andersen to the Grand-Duke of Weimar, 
 Copenhagen, iist March 1859. 
 
 Your Royal Highness is always so 
 sincerely kind to me, since you honour 
 and delight me with your letters. Thanks 
 for your last. 
 
 I hope that you have already received 
 the copy of " Europe," which contains my 
 fairy tale, '' The Philosopher's Stone," 
 and that it has pleased you. It is, how- 
 ever, no longer my last, for since that I have 
 written no less than six new fairy stories, 
 which will appear in a small volume this 
 week. If only my German friends could 
 receive my muse as quickly. They form 
 some of the best of my work. One of 
 these stories, '' The Wind tells us of 
 Waldemar Daae and his Daughters," is, 
 perhaps, regarding the construction, of 
 special significance. I have tried, and 
 hope I have succeeded, in giving the whole 
 narrative a tone as if one heard the wind 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 395 
 
 itself. Another story, "Anna Lisbeth," I 
 consider the best from a psychological 
 point of view. I have endeavoured to 
 show in it how small a germ of good 
 and of evil is hidden in the heart, and 
 how it springs into life according as it 
 has been touched either by " Einem 
 Sonnenstrahl oder von einer bosen hand." ^ 
 In January I also produced a great deal, 
 but since the middle of February I have had 
 influenza and a feverish cold, and am 
 obliged to stay at home more than usual. 
 Nevertheless I have frequently heard 
 Singer's excellent music, which has given 
 me very great pleasure. Your Royal 
 Highness knows that Herr Singer, from 
 Weimar, is here. He appeared for the 
 first time in the '' Musikverein " at a large 
 concert, where there were certainly more 
 than 2000 in the audience, and won great 
 applause. Later on he played at a 
 smaller concert, and four times in the 
 National Theatre. All the papers praised 
 him, and he is himself much pleased with 
 
 ^ By a sunbeam or by a wicked hand. 
 
39^ HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 his visit and his reception here. The day 
 before yesterday I heard him at the 
 Queen-Dowager's before a select company 
 (the Hereditary Prince Ferdinand and his 
 Consort, Prince Christian, and the Land- 
 grafs family). Here, too, he found great 
 favour. I also met him in select, private 
 circles. He is always welcomed and is in 
 good health. I am writing so much about 
 him because I do not know if they have 
 already heard in Weimar how he is. I 
 also like to write about him because it 
 pleases me to see the name of Weimar, 
 which has such a magic sound in artistic 
 circles, also appreciated here. 
 
 In a few days, on the 2nd of April, I 
 shall be fifty-four years old — so old, for it 
 is a great number of years, and yet how 
 young — and on this day of all others I 
 humbly recognise how many blessings have 
 been given me. The good and happy events 
 wander like a caravan through my thoughts, 
 so many true, kind eyes greet me. I see 
 here and there places where I have been 
 offered a happy home, and among these 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 397 
 
 Weimar is perhaps the dearest to me. 
 You will also understand, dear sir, why 
 you are particularly in my thoughts just 
 on this day. 
 
 May your Royal Highness preserve your 
 kindness and sympathy for me, 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen io the Grand- Duke of Weimar. 
 
 Basnas near Skjekskjor, 13th June 1859. 
 
 I HAVE given my countrymen a whole 
 bouquet of new fairy tales this spring, and 
 have won much appreciation and pleasure. 
 For several months, until quite lately, I 
 have had a sharp attack of "La Grippe," 
 but now summer is here with cuckoo and 
 nightingale, and I fly out again in the 
 ever young and beautiful world. 
 
 The oldest of the Danish living authors, 
 Ingemann, celebrated his birthday on the 
 23th of May. He lives in the beautiful 
 
398 
 
 forest solitudes by the lake near Soroe. 
 His novels have penetrated into the hearts 
 of the people, even the peasants. In Inge- 
 mann's novels they learn all about the 
 olden time in Denmark. It was his 70th 
 birthday. The children and young girls 
 collected a sum of 3000 thalers, with 
 which they bought him a large golden 
 horn, artistically decorated with all the 
 principal characters in his works. The 
 peasants of the district where the old 
 author's father once lived as a clergyman 
 presented him with a beautiful porcelain 
 vase, on which was engraved the name of 
 Ingemann and that of his father. Many 
 people left Copenhagen by rail for Soroe, 
 where there was singing, speeches, and a 
 torchlight procession. I was unable to be 
 present at the fete, but it was also a day of 
 rejoicing for me. On the same day, the King, 
 who is very gracious and kind to me, had 
 summoned me to his summer castle, 
 Friedrichsburg. It lies six miles to the 
 north-west of Copenhagen. There, on rising 
 from dinner, the king gave me a beautiful 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 399 
 
 ring, with his monogram In diamonds. 
 We afterwards went out on the forest- 
 girt lake in a large boat, and I read aloud 
 one of my newest fairy tales : '' What the 
 Wind tells us of Waldemar Daae and his 
 Daughters." Later on, after we had taken a 
 stroll In the garden, I read several of my 
 new stories. 
 
 The following day I went back to 
 Copenhagen, and on the first of June to 
 Soroe, where the old author Ingemann and 
 his wife live like Philemon and Baucis. 
 The old people seemed quite regenerated 
 by the fete. Thus, you see, my dear 
 Grand-Duke, that my summer travels 
 have begun under auspicious circumstances. 
 Now I am at Basnas on the Great Belt, 
 and think of commencing on Monday an 
 interesting and little-known journey. I wish 
 to visit the North Sea and. the entire west 
 coast of Jutland as far as Skagen, and 
 then to visit the barren desert land with its 
 sand hills, there to find poetical treasures 
 or the mood for composition. I shall go 
 first to Silkeborg, the rich forest country 
 
400 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 with its inland lakes, from there to the 
 North Sea, and later by steamer through 
 Limfjord to Aalborg. I cannot, however, 
 wander about in the great solitude without 
 giving you some idea of where I shall 
 be rambling this summer. Through the 
 papers I always know pretty well where 
 you are staying, whether travelling, or at 
 Weimar. 
 
 How often I live over again in memory 
 the first hours when I saw your Royal 
 Highness and learnt to know you. It was 
 your Royal Highness' birthday when I saw 
 you for the first time in the Grand-ducal 
 Theatre in Weimar greeted by the people. 
 It was then that I spoke to you for the 
 first time in Ettersburg. The town was €7i 
 fete that evening with music mat de 
 cocagne for the peasants. Many beautiful 
 reminiscences of graciousness and kindness 
 pass through my thoughts again and again, 
 and then my heart always flies to dear 
 Weimar. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 4OI 
 
 Andersen to the Grand- Duke of Weimar. 
 
 Copenhagen, i6th October 1859. 
 
 You have been so often and so vividly 
 in my thoughts during this summer, in 
 which I have visited some of the most 
 isolated and peculiar districts of my father- 
 land. The last letter from your Royal 
 Highness reached me at the old estate, 
 Norre-Wosborg, on the dunes of the 
 North Sea, while I was under the spell 
 of the fata morgana appearances of the 
 desert land. That you should have re- 
 membered me in your heavy trial, and in 
 the midst of your grief over mother and 
 child, has touched me deeply. May the 
 painful loss appear to you even now in a 
 more softened light ! 
 
 I am bringing a rich harvest of poetical 
 
 material from these travels. Wherever 
 
 I went I was agreeably surprised to find 
 
 myself treated with loving attention. They 
 
 received me as a longed-for friend with 
 
 2 c 
 
402 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 cordiality and fetes, so that I felt quite 
 humble and insignificant. 
 
 The scenery of Jutland has been a great 
 revelation to me. The storms of the 
 North Sea whip up the great sand-dunes, 
 the whirling sand cuts the face, the sea 
 dashes and rolls like a seething cataract 
 against the coast, and loosens the clay 
 of the precipices. But the most striking 
 sight of all was '' Skagen," — this desert, 
 with a small town but no streets, — for the 
 houses lie miles apart from each other, 
 according as the whirling sandhills permit : 
 pieces of " wrack " bound with rope in- 
 dicate where the street ought to be. The 
 little town stretches for half a mile along 
 the Cattegat, and from thence there is 
 just as long a road over the plains to old 
 Skagen, where the gates and doors are 
 decorated with the figure-heads of ships. 
 It looks as if " Neptune," '' Hope," and 
 other exalted deities lived here ; for their 
 figures, taken from stranded ships, are to 
 be seen at every entrance. The most 
 remarkable feature, however, is the large 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 403 
 
 Gothic church buried In the sand. First 
 the sand covered the churchyard, then the 
 walls ; but the services were still con- 
 tinued, until one Sunday a sand-bank 
 settled in front of the door. Then the 
 clergyman turned to his congregation : 
 " God," s^id he, '' has now closed this 
 house ; we must build Him a new one 
 elsewhere ; " and another now stands in a 
 new portion of the town. Just as in the 
 fairy-tale of the enchanted forest the 
 castle is surrounded by an impenetrable 
 thicket, so is the church here over-grown 
 with sand-plants, thorns, and wild roses, 
 which spread like a stockade over the 
 mighty plains. Like a buried Pompeii, 
 the church now lies with its grave- 
 stones and monuments till a westerly storm 
 comes and sets the sands in motion ; and 
 this will happen, for the dunes are always 
 moving eastwards and new ones rising up. 
 It is like coming into the birds' kingdom 
 here, especially outside the town. For a 
 quarter of a mile from the light-house a 
 tongue of land, strewn with rolling stones, 
 
404 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 Stretches out Into the sea, and ends in a 
 point just wide enough for a man to 
 stand on and let the North Sea play 
 over his left boot and the Cattegat 
 over his right. It is very plainly seen 
 how the two seas meet here ; but the 
 North Sea always holds the mastery. 
 
 The journey is fatiguing, but very in- 
 teresting. From Frederickshavn to Skagen 
 is a five-mile drive at low water, — half 
 across the sands, half on land. The waves, 
 even in fine weather, often dash upon the 
 carriage, and great care is required to avoid 
 the quicksands where carriages and horses 
 might sink. On the plains one frequently 
 finds turf, which shows that forests must 
 have stood here formerly. 
 
 I have already written a description of 
 this interesting journey. It still touches me 
 when I think of the affectionate manner in 
 which my country people received me. In 
 Hjorring, the largest northern town, they 
 serenaded me. In Aalborg also the 
 Artisans' Choral Society gave me a fare- 
 well greeting. Flowers and cheers accom- 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 405 
 
 panied me as if I were a Prince : I was 
 humbled by It and yet Inexpressibly happy. 
 I see what an effect my writings have had 
 upon the people. To you, my noble Prince, 
 who have so much heart and so much 
 sympathy for me, I can relate everything 
 In the way I do. You will not misunder- 
 stand me. 
 
 I long for you and Weimar ! God keep 
 and rejoice your Royal Highness. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 King Maximilian II. of Bavaria to 
 Andersen, 
 
 BORDER-Riss, Zth November 1859. 
 
 While wandering lately on a glorious 
 evening by the Wallersee, and thinking of 
 your beautiful fairy tales and poems, I re- 
 solved to put aside the obstacles which had 
 hitherto been raised on account of your not 
 being a German by birth, and to give my- 
 
406 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 self the real pleasure of conferring upon you 
 
 my Maximilian-Order, since your writings 
 
 have a very German ring about them, and 
 
 your tales are so popular in Germany. I 
 
 made a note of my resolve on my tablets by 
 
 moonlight. Will you regard the granting of 
 
 this Order as a sign of my great esteem for 
 
 you, and of the pleasure with which I recall 
 
 our meeting. — I am, with friendly sentiments, 
 
 your well-wisher, 
 
 Max. 
 
 Andersen to King Max. II. of Bavaria. 
 
 Copenhagen, i6th November 1859. 
 
 Your Majesty has given me a joyful sur- 
 prise and a happy day by your sincere and 
 gracious letter. To be remembered in this 
 way by a noble and intellectual King touches 
 me deeply, uplifts me, and fills my heart 
 with thanks to your Majesty. I shall pre- 
 serve the royal letter among my most 
 cherished memories. It shall take a place 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 407 
 
 with the Hlac flower which your Majesty- 
 picked and gave me on Httle Wallersee 
 Island, where I had the happiness for the 
 first time of seeing King Max, and speaking 
 to him. How often do I not recall those 
 happy days at Hohenschwangan ! 
 
 The last few years have brought me much 
 happiness — great, almost too great, recogni- 
 tion in my fatherland ; and my works have 
 been kindly judged in foreign countries, and 
 most cordially received. God has allotted 
 to me unspeakable happiness, and I acknow- 
 ledge it with deep gratitude. In little 
 Denmark, books are naturally not issued in 
 large editions, but during last year four to 
 five thousand copies of my *' Fairy Tales and 
 Stories" were published. My last work 
 belongs to this collection : '* A Story of 
 the Sand-Plains." The whole description 
 is the result of a visit during last summer to 
 the weirdest part of my fatherland : West 
 Jutland to Skagen. Nature is there so 
 strange. From the magnificent beech-forests 
 of the eastern coast, which are still the 
 haunts of the eagle and the black-stork, one 
 
408 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 reaches the far-stretching heaths dotted with 
 countless barrows of the Huns. The fata 
 morgana of the desert displays here her fairy 
 pictures : the west coast presents green 
 meadows and mighty sand-dunes, which rise 
 in jagged points like a chain of Alps, a 
 bulwark against the rolling sea. Here I 
 passed the summer, and visited the most 
 northern point of the land of Skagen, where 
 the North Sea and the Cattegat break 
 against each other, and where, as in the 
 fairy tale of the enchanted forest, the church, 
 covered with sand and overgrown with 
 thorns and wild roses, presents a peculiar 
 spectacle, only the spire projecting above 
 the sand. The place possesses no streets or 
 alleys, the houses are scattered among the 
 sand-billows, and ropes, which are stretched 
 between bunches of wrack, show the way. 
 Here, in this scenery, I have laid the plot of 
 my latest work, which will appear in my 
 mother-tongue at Christmas, and will, I hope, 
 very soon be translated into German. How 
 happy I should be if it were granted me to 
 read this book aloud to your Majesty. My 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 409 
 
 dearest wish Is that God will let me live to 
 visit Bavaria again in order to express to 
 your Majesty my heartfelt gratitude to the 
 noble Royal pair who have accorded so 
 much graciousness to me, — a foreigner. The 
 high order of honour which your Majesty 
 has conferred upon me will awaken in 
 my heart the deepest gratitude. On the 
 2 1 St of November, with my prayers to God 
 will be mingled my sincere thanks to you, 
 noble, exalted King. God bless your 
 Majesty. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to the Grand- Duke of Weimar. 
 
 Basnas, near Skjelskjor, 
 Denmark, 2>^st December 1859. 
 
 Your Royal Highness, — A new year Is 
 beginning, but I must, while the old is still 
 here, express my gratitude and regard for 
 you. God has severely tried you, dear sir, 
 in the year that has passed away ; but yet 
 
410 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 you have gained two noble souls, — two 
 praying for you, loving you, before the 
 Throne of God. Strength and consolation 
 will be given to you. May the New Year 
 bring to you, your Royal Consort, and your 
 children, happiness, and blessing. 
 
 The past year has brought to me much 
 pleasure and appreciation. Never have I 
 been so much valued in my own country as 
 now. I have written '' A Story of the Sand- 
 Plains." This, with four shorter tales, has 
 been issued in an edition of 5000 copies, 
 and is nearly sold out. The critics place 
 the tale among the best and most poetical 
 that I have written, and I think it will soon 
 be translated into German. My summer 
 travels through Jutland to Skagen provided 
 material and scenery for this new composi- 
 tion. From abroad I have also reaped fame 
 and gratification. From Germany, the other 
 day, came great recognition : the noble 
 King Max of Bavaria honoured me with a 
 letter written by his own hand, and conferred 
 upon me the Maximilian-Order for Art and 
 Science. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 41 1 
 
 A sad and painful event for us Danes 
 was the burning of the Friedrlchborg Palace. 
 Last week, on December 17th, this wonder- 
 ful old Gothic building was destroyed by fire 
 In a few hours. The building, church, and 
 Gothic hall are ruins. I was there this 
 spring. The King had graciously invited 
 me. I sailed with the King in a large boat, 
 and read some of the newest fairy tales to 
 His Majesty. It was a lovely evening. 
 The castle stood out so stately and magnifi- 
 cent in the sun's rays, w^ith its towers and 
 minarets reflected in the lake. Never shall 
 I see it again ! 
 
 At present I am in the country on the 
 
 Baltic ; but at the New Year I am going 
 
 back to Copenhagen. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to the Grand-Duke of Weimar. 
 
 Copenhagen, zrd May i860. 
 
 I HAD hoped to have been able to send 
 your Royal Highness my last work during 
 
41 2 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 the first days of April. It contains a large 
 collection of fairy tales, stories, and travel- 
 sketches, which have had the greatest suc- 
 cess In Denmark, and passed through 
 several editions before the German one 
 could be printed. April is now over, and 
 as I cannot receive the book before the end 
 of June, I can no longer delay writing, for I 
 must relate to your Royal Highness how I 
 live and work, in order to keep myself in 
 your kind remembrance. 
 
 I have been very industrious all through 
 the winter, and my energies have also been 
 engaged in an entirely new direction. 
 Several university professors and other able 
 men have been giving instructive weekly 
 discourses to assemblies of the working- 
 class. I was asked to represent the art of 
 poetry and literature, and particularly to 
 recite some fairy tales. This I have done, 
 and have derived much pleasure from the 
 experiment. Artisans, with their wives and 
 children, filled the large hall, and it was of 
 psychological interest to note the impression 
 which the lectures made. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 413 
 
 I have several times had^ the honour of 
 conversing with the Princess Anna of Hesse 
 at the hereditary Prince Ferdinand's and 
 the Prince of Denmark's/ and we always 
 talked of you, dear Grand-Duke. On one 
 such occasion the Prussian Chamberlain 
 very prettily improvised on a subject given 
 by me : '' Dear Weimar." The brothers 
 Muller from Melningen are here in con- 
 sequence of an engagement with the Society 
 of Music. They are extremely popular, and 
 appear to be pleased with their stay in 
 Copenhagen. They also gave a concert at 
 Aarhuus, where a piece from " Lohengrin " 
 was played and received with favour. 
 
 In the month of June I hope to be In 
 Germany. If I knew that your Royal 
 Highness would be at Eisenach, I would 
 arrange my route that way. I intend to 
 spend the summer in Switzerland, and the 
 winter. If God gives peace and tranquillity, 
 at Rome. I shall not be at home again 
 until the summer of 1861. I should so 
 
 ^ Prince Christian of Schleswig-PIolstein-Gliicksburg, the 
 present King Christian IX. 
 
414 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 much like to pass another winter in beauti- 
 ful Italy. It will probably be the last time. 
 On the 2nd of April I reached my fifty- 
 fourth year. 
 
 For Schiller's Album I have written a 
 new legend, '' The Old Church-Bell," and 
 sent it to Major Serre. At Schiller's birth 
 his mother heard the sound of the old 
 church-bell at Marbach. At his death the 
 head and bust of Thorwaldsen's statue of 
 Schiller at Stuttgart were made of this bell. 
 Schiller's life rings here in '' The Song of 
 the Bell," and by means of Thorwaldsen I 
 bring into It an element of my own father- 
 land. I hope this little tale will please you. 
 
 I beg you to give my most respectful 
 greeting to your Royal Consort. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Anders€7i to the Gra7id'Duke of Weimar, 
 
 Brunnen, 2^th/uly i860. 
 
 At the end of May I left Copenhagen for 
 the Duchies, where I lingered some time, 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 4 1 5 
 
 and went from there to Eisenach. The 
 idea of seeing your Royal Highness again 
 made my heart beat with the joy of antici- 
 pation. I would have gone to Weimar if 
 you had been there, but I heard in Eisenach 
 that your Royal Highness had started for 
 Switzerland the previous day. I hoped that 
 I should certainly meet you there, but when 
 I reached Munich I read in the newspapers, 
 " The Grand-Duke of Saxe- Weimar is in 
 Baden-Baden," and shortly after the news 
 reached me that you had already returned 
 to Weimar. I was quite sad about it. 
 When and where shall I now have the 
 pleasure, the real happiness of seeing you, 
 my dear, noble sir, again ? It is my inten- 
 tion in the late autumn to proceed to Rome 
 for the winter ; but as things now stand I 
 take no pleasure in it. I only care to be 
 where peace and quiet dwell. 
 
 I have been already, as I have said, two 
 months away from home, and have spent 
 pleasant, happy days. I know your Royal 
 Highness' sympathy for me, and I there- 
 fore relate to you, without ceremony, every- 
 
4l6 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 thing that I must tell those of whom I am 
 very fond. 
 
 In the Duchies I was received with ex- 
 traordinary kindness. I spent a whole week 
 at Rendsburg, and as I was begged most 
 pressingly and affectionately to give read- 
 ings there once, from some of my f^iiry 
 tales for the Danish soldiers, as I did in the 
 winter at Copenhagen for the artisans, I 
 promised to do so. The Town Hall was 
 decorated with flowers and flags. Officers, 
 and their wives, non-commissioned officers, 
 soldiers, and also German-speaking people, 
 who understood Danish, made up an 
 audience of nearly 1500. I was received 
 with cheers and flowers, and felt very 
 pleased. At night German was sung under 
 my windows — a greeting from the Germans. 
 In the morning the military band played for 
 me. And at my departure the station was 
 dressed with Danish flags. There was sing- 
 ing, and they gave me three cheers. I 
 could not help weeping. The world has 
 granted me far too much sympathy and 
 kindness. Strongly affected by these hearty 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 417 
 
 demonstrations, I flew to Eisenach. If you 
 had only been there, my noble Prince, how 
 pleased 1 should have been. 
 
 In Munich I spent pleasant days with 
 Kaulbach. He has done a wonderful 
 picture for my legend, '' The Angel," and 
 says he thinks of illustrating some of the 
 others. The King of Bavaria was not in 
 Munich, but I was received very graciously 
 by the Queen. Her Majesty presented me 
 with photographs of herself, the King, and 
 the two Princes. 
 
 The Passion- Play at Oberammergau, which 
 is repeated there every ten years, made a 
 great impression on me, It surpassed all 
 my expectations. I had always feared that 
 the representation of Christ on the stage 
 must have something sacrilegious about it, 
 but, as it w^as given here, it was elevating 
 and noble. There was something about the 
 whole resembling the open-air Indian plays ; 
 " Sacuntala," for example. The choruses 
 recall the Greek tragedies. The music and 
 singing are carried out with taste and pre- 
 cision. The representation lasted from eight 
 
 2 1) 
 
4l3 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 o'clock in the morning till five in the after- 
 noon, and no one went away, so refined and 
 affecting was the whole performance. 
 
 Do go there. It will repay you the 
 trouble. Representations will be given on 
 the 6th, 1 2th, 19th, and 26th of August, as 
 well as on the 9th and i6th of September. 
 It is better to put up at the Pastor's. Do 
 go to see it. 
 
 I have now been twelve days in Brunnen, 
 on the Vierwaldstadtersee, where I am 
 boarding at Colonel Aufdermauer's. There 
 are several strangers here, also Count 
 Harrach, and Von Slicht from Weimar, who 
 both earnestly desire to be remembered to 
 your Royal Highness. 
 
 Next week I am going to Locle, in the 
 Jura Mountains, where I remain till the 
 14th August. I should be happy to receive 
 a letter there — pos^e restante, — or a week 
 later at Geneva. My new book, '* From 
 Heart and World," containing legends, 
 stories, and travels, 1 have long since sent 
 your Royal Highness, through my publisher, 
 but addressed to Chamberlain Beaulieu, who, 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 419 
 
 I hear, Is now travelling. Read '' Anne 
 Elizabeth," '' The Story from the Sand- 
 dunes," and '' Pen and Inkstand." I dare 
 hope that these will please your Royal 
 
 Highness. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to Edward Collin, 
 
 OucHY, BY Lausanne, 15th August i860. 
 
 Dear Friend, — The day before yester- 
 day I left Locle, and spent the night at In- 
 verdun. I took the coach to see the 
 lovely valley of Travers, where Rousseau 
 lived. I arrived yesterday at Ouchy, which 
 is a kind of suburb to Lausanne, and is 
 situated half an hour's walk from the lake. 
 In the hotel here (The Anchor) Byron 
 lived and wrote his '' Prisoner of Chillon." 
 His little room is close to mine. The 
 Prince of Joinville was here with his wufe 
 and children last week. I have the room 
 in which the Princess slept It Is very 
 
420 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 small ; but the view over the lake to the 
 mountains of Savoy is fine. I had a 
 sad dream last night which has affected 
 me in a remarkable degree, and is my 
 reason for writing you to-day. It seemed 
 to me that I was on a visit to Copenhagen 
 and went to your father's house. Outside 
 stood the singers Faaborg and Chr. Han- 
 sen ; they said : *' But you have been here 
 in town since Saturday ! " I thought it re- 
 markable that I had not sooner been to see 
 your father. I now saw him in the hall in 
 his blue coat, the one he wore when he 
 was ill. I told him I had come to see him. 
 He burst into tears, embraced me, and 
 called out my name so loudly that I woke. 
 I was very hot, yet a cold shiver went 
 through my limbs, possibly the result of my 
 thoughts. ** My God ! what has happened 
 at home.'* Have I lost him.'* Is he dead.-*" 
 thought I. I slept no more for some time ; 
 but I hope and believe the whole dream 
 means nothing. But I felt I must tell you 
 about it Shall I hear from you before 
 long ? 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 42 1 
 
 I thank you and your wife for your letter 
 received. It did me good, for I am here 
 in Ouchy quite alone, and do not know a 
 soul. Yesterday when I arrived there was 
 at the dinner-table a German family, Bar- 
 nemann ; they had only landed to have 
 dinner. We sat together, and he asked 
 me from which country I came. I said : 
 " Denmark ! " " Consequently an enemy ! " 
 he exclaimed. '' Yes, and a well known 
 enemy," I replied, and told him my name. 
 This created a spirit of very good feeling 
 between us. They drank my health. The 
 ladles were delighted, and in the end they 
 all spoke enthusiastically of Copenhagen. 
 Such was my reception here at Ouchy. 
 Believe me it is an unspeakable blessing 
 thus to have friends, or, at least, to see 
 faces beaming with amiability when one 
 mentions one's name. I feel softened and 
 moved at the thought. In France they 
 begin to know me. The great work, 
 " Dictionnaire des contemporains," published 
 In Paris, had an article about me, 
 
422 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 "Avec un esprit qui rappelle quelquefois celui de Vol- 
 taire par I'ironie fine et aiguisde, M. Andersen i. tout le 
 sentiment et la reverie du peuple du Nord. Mais il a su 
 y meler une richesse d'imagination vraiment orientale qui 
 contribue a faire de lui un poke des plus originaux du 
 XlX'ne. si^cle." 
 
 I Stayed a fortnight in Locle. Jules Jiir- 
 gensen seemed very pleased to see me. 
 I felt welcome. The sons I liked very 
 much. The youngest has something in 
 him of the northern calmness ; the eldest 
 is entirely French and full of life. He es- 
 pecially took to me. Jlirgensen has a con- 
 siderable business. He has made many 
 improvements in watches. He sends quan- 
 tities of watches to America and Paris, and 
 on all for America he puts the word " Copen- 
 hagen." In his way he does our country 
 great honour, and it is an injustice that at 
 home they have not conferred upon him 
 the Order of Dannebrogs. His brother is 
 a knight as his father was ; and this man, 
 who is an honour to the name '* Danish," 
 ought, I think, to be rewarded. I know it 
 would please him. Can you do anything 
 in the matter ? Mention him in the proper 
 
CORRESPONDENXE. 423 
 
 place to one of the ministers who has 
 charge of that sort of thing. Let me 
 know something about it when you write 
 again. 
 
 I hope to hear your father is well and 
 happy. Press his hand kindly for me, 
 and remember me to Theodor. The rheu- 
 matism in my finger still continues, but the 
 toothache I suffered from in Locle is gone^ 
 When I left, the day before yesterday, the 
 weather was fine, but only four degrees of 
 heat. What do you think of that ? The 
 Neufchatel paper has mentioned my stay 
 here : 
 
 " Depuis quelque temps notre pays possede recrivain 
 renomm^, le poete illustre, auquel plus qu'a tout autre on 
 peut dererner le titre de cosmopolite. Pour tout ce qui a 
 trait aux choses de I'esprit, ce titre est heureusement 
 applicable et bien que M. Andersen ecrive dans une 
 langue peu repandue, il est le poete de tout le monde," 
 etc., etc. 
 
 Enjoyable it might be to travel along 
 with a countryman you could talk to, but 
 I have a more serious purpose in travel- 
 ling than mere pleasure. I have a greater 
 end in view ; which is to do all in my 
 
 i 
 
424 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 power to make my name ring in France, 
 If not so much as in England, at least that 
 my writings may find a greater sale than 
 they have now. Only " The Improvlsa- 
 tore," and the Fairy Tales and Picture 
 Book are translated — the latter very badly 
 — but I think the tales will soon appear in 
 better form. I shall not make money, but 
 renown is the great point. It surprises 
 me that Bllle has not mentioned in '' Dag- 
 bladet" the great success of my last stories 
 in England. 
 
 In a day or two I shall go to Montreux. 
 It Is close to the lake, not far from Chil- 
 lon. Perhaps I may go to Bex, and to 
 the valley of Chamounix. But the starting 
 point Is Lausanne. 
 
 I wish I had you all here, if only for 
 an hour. The lake is broad and green, 
 the mountains are capped with snow, the 
 sun shines, and In the gardens hang ripe 
 figs and large bunches of grapes. A couple 
 of cypresses are growing In the open, and 
 pomegranates are in blossom. 
 
 It has just struck me that I can enrich 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 425 
 
 your wife's cookery book with a new 
 recipe for making salad, which I learnt at 
 Locle. I like It, but perhaps she may 
 not. The addition Is a garlic. The salad 
 Is made as usual, then you take a crust of 
 French bread and rub Into it a whole gar- 
 lic. This bread you put into the salad, 
 while being prepared, and thus obtain 
 a piquant flavour of garlic. Try it and 
 then you can thank me. 
 
 Here In Ouchy, for the first time dur- 
 ing my travels, I have felt lonely. Possibly 
 It Is because I have just left a family 
 circle, and am now in a rather lonely place 
 where only French Is spoken, and I speak 
 to no one except the servants. At the 
 dinner-table are only Englishmen, who are 
 completely mute. I have made some at- 
 tacks, but am never able to start a conver- 
 sation, not even among themselves. It is 
 as If they had made a vow to be silent. 
 Now good-bye, my dear faithful friend. — 
 Your devoted, 
 
 H. C. Andersen.' 
 
426 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 Andersen to P hilar ete-C harks in 
 Paris, 
 
 C0PENHx\GEN, October 1867. 
 
 Dear, Much Respected Herr Philarete, 
 — I spent a splendid fortnight in Paris on my 
 last visit, and among the happiest memo- 
 ries are the day and evening in your little 
 country paradise, which you, with your 
 brilliant humour, and your cousin made so 
 enjoyable and homelike. Unfortunately, I 
 must deplore not having seen you more 
 often, for I had a very few days left. 
 
 Last Monday I reached Copenhagen, and 
 I now hasten to recall myself to the kind 
 remembrance of yourself and your Frau 
 Cousine. 
 
 In your sympathy for me as an author 
 you made a proposition, which, if it could 
 be realised, would give me unbounded happi- 
 ness';' namely, that a collection of my many 
 tales, which have not yet been translated, 
 should be published in the French language, 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 427 
 
 By the interest which you and your cousin 
 have shown for me, I shall live to see myself 
 introduced in France, and if my writings 
 take, I shall win recognition as I have done 
 in England and Germany. If I please the 
 French, then my dearest dreams will be 
 fulfilled — of becoming an European author. 
 I herewith send you the most complete 
 edition of the tales in a good German trans- 
 lation, and have marked with a cross all 
 those which I think have not yet been trans- 
 lated into French, and with two crosses the 
 short ones, which I consider of the most 
 importance. 
 
 I will next send you the only German 
 edition of "In Sweden," as well as ''The 
 Fairy Tale of my Life." The latest com- 
 plete edition has only appeared in Danish, 
 and that, unfortunately, you would not be 
 able to read. The novel, " Only a Fiddler," 
 I will send to you at Paris on the next 
 opportunity. The parcel of books I have 
 entrusted to a young friend. 
 
 Favour me w^ith a few words and accept 
 my warm, hearty thanks for your good in* 
 
428 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 tentlons, and for all that you are doing for 
 the Danish author, — Your grateful, 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to ten Kate"^ of Amsterdam. 
 
 Copenhagen, 22nd January 1869. 
 
 Dear Herr ten Kate, — Excellent friend, 
 I am writing this In Danish. You 
 thoroughly understand my mother-tongue. 
 In which I can express myself much better 
 than In German. Accept my sincere thanks 
 for the valued gift you have made me In 
 sending your versified edition of my fairy 
 tales. I very much admire the rich and 
 splendid binding of the book. My portrait, 
 
 ^ Kate (Jan Jacob Lobewijk ten), Dutch poet, born 23rd 
 December 1819, at the Hague. In 1845 he became a 
 clergyman of the Reformed Church, and has lived since 
 i860 in Amsterdam. He has published several poems, and 
 has made himself a name as a translator from most European 
 languages. Among his longer poems, which are chiefly of a 
 religious nature, are " De Shepping" ("The Creation") and 
 " De Planeten.'' Several of his works hj^ve b^en translated, 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 429 
 
 too, I think very good, and am astonished 
 that, in your remarkable rendering of my 
 prose stories, you have been able to follow 
 the original so closely, almost word for word 
 in metrical numbers. My most heartfelt 
 thanks for the perseverance and affection 
 with which you have worked for me. 
 
 I received the book on Monday evening, 
 and on every Monday morning the King 
 holds a public levee. Before the following 
 Monday, therefore, I should have had no 
 opportunity of seeing His Majesty. I, how- 
 ever, went on Friday to the castle, when 
 the King most graciously received me im- 
 mediately. I informed him of your import- 
 ance and position, and then handed His 
 Majesty the copy which you had sent me 
 for that purpose. The King accepted the 
 book kindly and cordially as ever, read 
 your letter aloud to me, and said that I was 
 first to give you his thanks, and to add that 
 it pleased him very much to see how well 
 you write Danish. I myself thank you for 
 the commission which you gave me to pre- 
 sent your beautiful work to His Majesty. 
 
430 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 In one of our newspapers, Da^ens Nyiteder, 
 the book has already been noticed. Most 
 people in Denmark are acquainted with your 
 name, and the interest you take in my 
 tales. 
 
 Give my most cordial greetings to your 
 family. 
 
 I will soon take the liberty of sending you 
 such of my little poems as you do not yet 
 possess. ''The Dryads" is already trans- 
 lated, and has appeared in English and 
 German. Of the French edition 1 have 
 heard nothing as yet. — Your gratefully de- 
 voted friend and admirer, 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to the Grand- Duke of Weimar, 
 
 Bregentved, near Kjoge, 
 Haslov Station, 
 Denmark. 
 
 Your Royal Highness will graciously and 
 with friendly interest accept my most sin- 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 43 1 
 
 cere thanks for the pleasing letter I received 
 from Holland, which was a new proof of 
 your goodness of heart and sympathy. The 
 letter reached me during my stay at beauti- 
 ful Holsteinborg, where I once wrote a fairy 
 tale called '' Weno and Gleno," on the parish 
 which is connected here with the island Gleno 
 in the Baltic, in front of the wood-girt castle. 
 
 Now I am the guest of Count Moltke at 
 Bregentved, some miles distant from Hol- 
 steinborg, in the midst of a beautiful and 
 extensive forest, so luxuriant that there is 
 scarcely another to equal it in Denmark. 
 The garden here, with its great verdant 
 lawns, immense avenues of lime trees, and 
 cheerful lakes, where swans and shimmering 
 white lotus flowers float up on the water, 
 reminds me of the English parks. 
 
 Bregentved is without doubt one of the 
 largest and finest of our seigniorial estates. 
 I have been acquainted with the present 
 family from my earliest days, and now see 
 growing up in the comfortable, happy home 
 an entirely new race of lively and beautiful 
 children. 
 
432 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 A residence in the country was, and is to 
 me still, the best of medicines. I can now 
 take long walks in the garden, and have 
 even tried to read aloud some of my tales 
 (an attempt which I have not been able to 
 make for over a year), and did not feel it 
 beyond my strength. If my recovery con- 
 tinues to make the same progress, I may 
 once more dare to think, in a not too distant 
 future, of seeing Weimar, your Royal High- 
 ness, the Grand- Duchess, and the whole 
 Grand-Ducal juvenile circle again. What a 
 memorable day it would be for me ! God 
 bless the house of W^eimar, and grant that 
 I may there perpetually be held in kind and 
 gracious remembrance. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Mary Livingstone to Andersen. 
 
 Ulva Cottage, Hamilton, 
 Scotland, \st Januiuy 1869. 
 
 Dear Hans Andersen, — 1 do like your 
 fairy tales so much, that I would like to go 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 433 
 
 and see you, but I cannot do that, so I 
 thought I would write to you. When papa 
 comes home from Africa, I will ask him to 
 take me to see you. My favourite stories 
 in one book are: ''The Goloshes of For- 
 tune," " The Snow Queen," and some 
 others. My papa's name is Dr. Livingstone. 
 I am sending my card and papa's autograph. 
 I will say good-bye to you and a happy 
 New Year. — I am your affectionate little 
 friend, 
 
 Anna Mary Livingstone. 
 
 P.S. — Please write to me soon. My ad- 
 dress is on the iirst page, and please send 
 me your card. 
 
 Mary Livingstone to Andersen, 
 
 Ulva Cottage, Hamilton, 
 Scotland, 20th October 1869. 
 
 My Dear Hans C. Andersen, — It is a 
 
 very long time since I have written to you, 
 
 2 E 
 
434 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 but I am writing to you now, and that Is so 
 much. Is it not ? I was so deHghted to 
 get your letter ; and when I got your card 
 I looked at it, and thought that I had got 
 acquainted with a gentleman whom I would 
 like very much. I thank you very much for 
 the " Translation," for without it I could not 
 understand your letter, and then I would not 
 have been able to answer any of the ques- 
 tions you asked me. We got news twice 
 about papa, but none of them were true. 
 But last Friday our station-master, who 
 knows us, came up with a paper that had 
 news, the good news, and oh ! we were so 
 delighted. I saw the story of " Vaenoe and 
 Glanoe." I thought it very pretty, and I 
 hope you will write some more. The first 
 that I ever read was *' Maja," or " Litde 
 Thumb." Thomas and Oswell, my brothers, 
 and Agnes, my sister, are quite well. Only 
 my mamma Is dead, and I have two aunts, 
 Janet and Agnes Livingstone, with whom 
 my home is. It Is a very nice home. T 
 once had a Grandmamma Livingstone, but 
 she is dead now. Please could you tell me 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 435 
 
 if you know the Swedish language. Tell 
 me in your next letter if you do. With my 
 best love to all at your home, I remain your 
 most affectionate little friend, 
 
 Anna Mary Livingstone. 
 
 Andersen to Mary Livingstone. 
 
 Basnas, near Skjelskor, 
 Denmark, May 187 1. 
 
 My Dear Little Friend, — Thanks for 
 the charming letter which you sent me a 
 short time ago, and thanks for all that you 
 have told me about the pantomime which 
 you saw in the Theatre Royal. That must 
 have been an enjoyable evening. I know 
 the story of Sindbad quite well. It is in 
 '' The Arabian Nights." You must read the 
 book. I will also send at the first oppor- 
 tunity the continuation of the tales and 
 stories which your sister Agnes brought 
 from me. In my new book there are many, 
 
436 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN S 
 
 many tales which you will scarcely know. 
 I was Staying at a country house outside 
 Copenhagen when your sister and some 
 friends delighted me with their visit and 
 brought me greetings from little Mary 
 Livingstone. How kind and thoughtful of 
 her. Remember me to her and to the 
 noble old lady who accompanied her. Greet- 
 ings to each of her companions whom I 
 then saw. Here in Denmark we often 
 speak of your dear papa and his travels in 
 Africa. Recently I read in a newspaper 
 that he had left there and was on his way 
 back to Europe. Hurrah ! That would 
 be indeed splendid. The dear God never 
 forsakes good people who live in Him, and 
 produce good works. What a joy for the 
 family, what a festival for the whole coun- 
 try it will be, when the dear, energetic father 
 whom we all value and honour returns to 
 England ! Then when he has well kissed 
 his little Mary, conversed with her, and 
 told her everything, remember me to 
 him, and greet him kindly for me, him over 
 whom God has stretched His protecting 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 437 
 
 hand to the delight and instruction of us 
 all. Greet the aunt also, and every mem- 
 ber of the family who is well-disposed to- 
 wards little Mary's friend, Hans Christian 
 Andersen. 
 
 Now I am out in the country, close by 
 the sea coast, and am staying at an ancient 
 castle with a high tower. The garden runs 
 down to the sea-shore, and stretches away 
 to the beech woods, which are now splen- 
 didly fresh and green. The whole ground of 
 the forest is like a carpet strewn with violets 
 and anemones. The wood doves are coo- 
 ing, and the cuckoo's note is heard. Here 
 I shall certainly write a new story, which 
 my little friend will afterwards be able to 
 read. After Whitsuntide I shall return to 
 the capital and live for a while at my friend, 
 Melchior's, in the beautiful villa where your 
 sister Agnes was so kind as to visit me. 
 When papa comes then I shall probably 
 have a letter from his dear little Mary ? 
 Now may you be well and merry. 
 
 You will not forget the friend in Den- 
 mark, — Hans Christian Andersen. 
 
438 HANS C. ANDEKSEN'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Mary Livingstone to Andersen, 
 
 Ulva Cottage, Hamilton, 2zrd November 1872. 
 
 My Dearest H. Andersen, — I meant to 
 have written to you long ago and sent you a 
 greenstone for that you lost ; but I never 
 could get time. First my brother Thomas 
 took very ill with pleurisy, eleven weeks 
 from to-day, and this is the first day he has 
 been able to be downstairs. Then we 
 had Mr. Stanley. He came to stay a day 
 or two with the Provost of Hamilton, Mr. 
 Dykes, and to lecture here. He was pre- 
 sented with the freedom of the Burgh of 
 Hamilton. My sister Agnes and one of 
 my aunts and I were introduced to him on 
 the platform, amid loud cheers. He came 
 in the afternoon to our house, and then 
 went to the banquet in the town hall. In 
 the evening he delivered a very interesting 
 lecture. Next day we took him to see the 
 palace, and then he went away. I was very 
 sorry when he went. T like him so much. 
 
H. M. STANLEY. 
 
HANS C. ANDERSEN'S CORRESPONDENCE. 44 1 
 
 When I was in lona, a Highland relation 
 of ours gave me a whole sovereign. Agnes, 
 and Thomas, and Oswell, and I bought a 
 beautiful gold locket for Mr. Stanley, and 
 had his initials put on it, and inside is papa 
 on one side, and on the other his four chil- 
 dren, in recognition of his finding papa. 
 So I gave ten shillings of the sovereign 
 for this locket ; and, as I have heard that 
 there have been dreadful floods in Den- 
 mark, I willingly give the other ten shil- 
 lings for the relief of the people. You will 
 please see that it is given all right. 
 
 I am studying German just now and 
 find it very interesting. 
 
 I should so like to get a letter from you 
 when you have time. T shall now close. So 
 I am, dear Hans Andersen, your ever affec- 
 tionate young friend, 
 
 Anna Mary Livingstone. 
 
 P.S. — I love you so much, dear, dear 
 Hans Andersen. 
 
442 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 Andersen to Mary Livingstone. 
 
 Copenhagen, December 1872. 
 
 My Dear Little Friend, — During more 
 than seven weeks I have been ill and am not 
 quite well. 
 
 The greatest sympathy and attention have 
 been shown me by our Royal House as well 
 as by the poorest. Our dear good-hearted 
 Crown Prince, the brother of the amiable 
 Princess of Wales, has visited me. Sym- 
 pathy I have had in the fullest measure, 
 but convalescence progresses but slowly. 
 Reading wearies me, and writing I cannot 
 and dare not undertake. One of my friends 
 is writing this from dictation. I shall be 
 very glad to get a letter from my dear 
 little friend in return: Now I possess and 
 guard *' the greenstone " which can protect 
 me on sea voyages, but the dearest to me 
 still is the nice little letter which tells me 
 of Mary's home, and Stanley's visit to 
 Hamilton. It was right and natural of you 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 443 
 
 to buy the locket, and have papa's portrait, 
 and Mary's and her sister's set in it, and to 
 give it to Stanley. He will understand and 
 highly appreciate the gift. But it rejoices 
 and touches me deeply that my good, dear 
 little friend has also thought so tenderly of 
 the need of the sufferers from the floods in 
 Denmark, my native land, and has sent 
 for them the other half of the sovereign. 
 Thanks, dear, good child ! May heaven 
 grant that your father will soon press a kiss 
 on your rosy little mouth ! The half- 
 sovereign has been forwarded to the 
 Central Committee for the relief of our 
 sufferers from the floods. My mention of 
 it has stirred all my friends, and in most 
 of the newspapers of our country this pretty 
 incident has been warmly commented on, so 
 that if Mary really comes over here with 
 her father, she will find friends for herself, 
 as he finds them in all the countries of the 
 North. I also send in a wrapper the first 
 newspaper that mentions little Mary's gift. 
 
 I forward in another wrapper a good 
 portrait of myself It will reach you, I think, 
 
444 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 with this letter, which contains the most 
 heartfelt Christmas greetings and New Year s 
 wishes for Mary, and all her dear ones in 
 Livingstone's, Byron's, and Walter Scott's 
 great country. 
 
 Cheer me soon with a letter ! 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to the Crown Prince Frederick 
 of Denmark. 
 
 Glion, May 1873. 
 
 Your Royal Highness is now again 
 in dear Denmark, therefore I send this 
 letter in . the hope that it will arrive on the 
 fete day, the 3rd of June, so that my grate- 
 ful words and greeting may mingle with 
 the others in the Royal House, from which 
 I have received so many proofs of sym- 
 pathy and sincere good-will during this 
 winter, when I have been chained to my 
 room by illness. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 445 
 
 This is now the second month that I 
 have been abroad. 1 was very desirous of 
 writing to you before — your Royal High- 
 ness granted me the permission — but you 
 had gone to Vienna. Now the papers 
 announce that Denmark's Crown Prince is 
 at home again. 
 
 On Whitsunday I shall have been three 
 weeks in Glion, and have drunk " Molken," 
 which appears to have suited me. But my 
 recovery is very tedious. I have great 
 difficulty in climbing hills, and all the roads 
 here are up and down. During the first 
 half of my stay I had the loveliest 
 summer weather. The air was soft and 
 warm. The snow glittered on the moun- 
 tain tops, and the beech trees looked as 
 fresh and green as in Denmark. The 
 cuckoo calls as it does in our forests ; and 
 it seemed to me as if I were at home. The 
 Swiss flag, the red cross on the white 
 ground, reminded me of my dear Danebrog. 
 Lately there has been incessant cold and 
 rain. The clouds are nearly resting on the 
 lake, I have a fire and yet I am freezing. 
 
44^ HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 It throws me back somewhat, and It Is there- 
 fore my intention to leave on Whitmonday, 
 and see my doctor, Professor Dor, in Bern, 
 and to go for a short time to Interlachen 
 where it is warmer, and where I can also 
 drink '' Molken " if it should be necessary. 
 
 At the end of June, please God, I think 
 of arriving in the dear Danish home again, 
 and seeing all my loved ones. 
 
 With the deepest homage, — Your Royal 
 Highness' grateful and most devoted 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to Frau Kaulbach ^ in Munich. 
 
 Copenhagen, 25/// April 1874. 
 
 Dear Frau Kaulbach, — During your 
 first deep grief at the death of your dear 
 husband I thought it best not to write. God 
 softens even the heaviest trials. I hope that 
 
 ^ Kaulbach (Wilhelm von), artist, born, 15th October 1805, 
 c\t Arolsen, and died 7th April 1874. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 447 
 
 the pain you now feel is less keen, and I 
 therefore now write for the first time. It 
 was a most unexpected blow to me to hear 
 of the death of my true and noble friend, 
 the great painter Kaulbach. This news 
 oppressed me with deep melancholy and 
 sympathy. I had certainly hoped to press 
 his hand again, and to have seen you, dear 
 Frau Kaulbach, your children, and relations, 
 for you were so kind as to offer me a home 
 in your house on my next visit to Munich. 
 Everything earthly, — beauty, goodness, and 
 happiness, all pass away ! 
 
 I shall be unable to get to Munich this 
 summer. I am still ill, and have been so for 
 the last eighteen months, almost as severely 
 as when I returned from Munich to Copen- 
 hagen last summer. I have spent the greater 
 part of the time in my room, but now I am 
 better, and the doctors think that the summer 
 will recuperate me. I shall therefore live to 
 see my friends again, but him, our noble and 
 delightful friend, Kaulbach, I shall never 
 meet In this world any more. I deeply 
 treasure every remernbrance of our short 
 
448 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 acquaintance. God strengthen you in your 
 great grief. May He bless you for all the 
 kindness and sympathy you have shown to 
 your gratefully devoted 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 A7iderscn to Mary Livingstone, 
 
 COPENHAciKN, i-jth February 1874. 
 
 Mv Dear Young Friend, — How glad I 
 was to receive your letter, which was written 
 and posted to me on January 25th. I was 
 just then thinking of you, and was much 
 grieved, but your letter has given me hope 
 and joy again. You know, young as you 
 are, that one must not always believe what 
 the newspapers relate ; there is often not a 
 single grain of truth in it. More than once 
 it has been announced that the Livingstone so 
 highly prized by the world was dead, and — 
 God be praised and thanked — he lives still. 
 A similar announcement of his death was 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 449 
 
 l>>ublished in the Danish newspapers before 
 I'ebruary 25th, and f, in common with the 
 whole Danish nation, was grieved to hear that 
 he had been called away from his great work 
 for mankind just as he would be returning to 
 his family and his country. Then I received 
 your letter, dear Mary, and as you told me 
 in it that he was coming home, and that you 
 would perhaps visit Copenhagen with him, 
 all the press news disappeared like fog, and I 
 hoped, and hope, that he lives, and that he 
 will see his childn^n. n^lation^ ^^'i^^ frit-iuls 
 again. 
 
 I have much to say and to write to you, but 
 to-day I feel great anxiety as to the un- 
 certainty of your father s destiny as mapped 
 out by God, 
 
 Write me very soon. May it be an all- 
 sunshiny letter! 
 
 With the most sincere sympathy and de- 
 votion, 
 
 H. C Andersen. 
 
 2 V 
 
450 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 Mary Livingstone to Andersen. 
 
 Ulva Cottage, 
 Hamilton, i^th September 1874. 
 
 My Dear Hans Andersen, — I have often 
 thought of you since you wrote to me last, 
 and wished to write to you, but never got 
 to do so before. You would see from the 
 newspapers the great sorrow we have had 
 this year. I did so expect to have had papa 
 take me to see you in Denmark. Instead of 
 going to the different places I fully intended 
 to with papa, T was obliged to take the 
 sad journey to London to see him buried in 
 Westminster Abbey. Both my aunts were 
 there, and also my brothers and sister. We 
 all had wreaths of pure white flowers to put 
 on his coffin. At one o'clock the procession 
 entered the abbey, and the coffin was placed 
 on velvet trestles. It was covered with a 
 black velvet pall edged with white silk, and 
 the top of the coffin was covered with white 
 wreaths and palm leaves. While the proces- 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 45 1 
 
 slon was moving along the organ played 
 most beautifully. Then we all sang that 
 hymn : 
 
 " O God of Bethel, by whose hand 
 Thy people still are fed, 
 Who through this weary pilgrimage 
 Hast all our fathers led." 
 
 Then the procession to the grave formed. 
 Immediately after the coffin came grandpapa 
 (Dr. Moffat) and my two brothers, Thomas 
 and Oswell. Next came my sister and my- 
 self, and behind us my aunts, and then 
 friends. When the coffin was set down at 
 the grave, which was all draped In black 
 Agnes, my sister, and I had to lay our 
 wreaths on the coffin, and then my aunts laid 
 theirs. One of my aunts from the south of 
 England laid a wreath of violets and prim- 
 roses from a lane that papa liked to walk In 
 very much. We were ranged round close to 
 the grave, and a beautiful anthem was sung, 
 called : ''His body was burled in peace." 
 Then the Dean read the funeral service, and 
 all was over. The abbey was crowded, and 
 
452 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 the vergers of the abbey said they had never 
 seen such a number of people in Westminster 
 Abbey since the death of the Prince Consort. 
 There was a funeral service preached in the 
 abbey the next Sunday. The picture of me 
 that I send you is taken just as I stood at 
 papa's grave. It was my first visit to Lon- 
 don. Papa's two coloured servants were 
 here seeing us last week. They were telling 
 us a great many interesting things about 
 papa ; and one of them, called Chumah, made 
 a little model of the grass hut in which papa 
 died, and showed us the position of papa's 
 bed in it. It is very interesting to us. 
 
 I was very, very sorry to hear you had 
 been so ill, but I hope you are better now. 
 I should so much like, if you are able, to get 
 a letter from you. My brother has gone 
 back to Egypt again. 
 
 I am going to a boarding-school next 
 week, which will be a new experience to me 
 altogether. 
 
 I forgot to tell you, when speaking of 
 papa's funeral, that our beloved Queen sent 
 a most lovely white wreath, and she and the 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 453 
 
 Prince of Wales had their carriages at the 
 abbey. 
 
 I think I have told you all I know, so with 
 much love,^I am your ever loving, 
 
 Anna Mary Livingstone, 
 
 Andersen to the Grand- Duke of Weimar. 
 
 HOLSTEINBORG, NEAR SKJELFKOR, 
 
 Denmark, 2nd June 1874, 
 
 Your Royal Highness has again con- 
 ferred great pleasure upon me through your 
 gracious letter. Seal and address im- 
 mediately recalled to me pleasant memories 
 of former days. Many times have I read 
 the letter through, and gazed at the portrait 
 which stands upon my writing-table. An 
 earlier photograph of your Royal Highness 
 has its place in my study. I was very ill 
 when your letter arrived, and writing would 
 have tried me much. I knew also that your 
 Royal Highness had gone to Holland, but 
 
454 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 now, I hope, you are back again in Weimar, 
 or up at woody Ettersburg. 
 
 I have been already eight days in the 
 country, at Count Holstein's, our President 
 of the Council. He and his dear family 
 have always been so sympathetic and kind 
 to me. Throughout my long illness I have 
 felt the deepest gratitude towards them. 
 
 Here it is like being with one's relations ; 
 I have everything which wealth and good- 
 ness of heart can give. The situation of 
 Holsteinborg is very beautiful, with its large 
 garden and woods by the sea. The air is 
 very salubrious, and I feel much better than 
 before. I am able to get about. The pain in 
 the liver has almost disappeared, and it 
 seems as if my strength were returning daily. 
 I have been ill more than eighteen months, 
 and in all that long time have written 
 nothing at all. The last work was a small 
 volume of fairy tales, among them, " The 
 Sea-Serpent," which is the submarine cable 
 between England and America. This little 
 book has also appeared in German at 
 Bremen. But a longer tale which came into 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 455 
 
 the world three years ago, '' Lucky^Peter," 
 was received with the greatest sympathy at 
 home and abroad. Your Royal Highness 
 will permit me to forward you the litde 
 book. 
 
 Wagner's music gleams like a ray of sun- 
 shine on our life here. 
 
 Our new, grand theatre Is now nearly 
 ready. It is to be opened in September with 
 Holberg's " Die Wochenstube," and a new 
 ballet of Bournonville's. 
 
 Copenhagen is always growing larger and 
 more beautiful. Very many strangers come 
 here, and the Sanitoria at Klampenborg and 
 Mariealust are always occupied, principally 
 by German families. 
 
 A month ago — your Royal Highness 
 possibly read the story In the newspapers — 
 Gunther, a young German engineer, came 
 here from Hanover. He had heard there was 
 much worth seeing in Copenhagen. On the 
 second evening of his stay here he was 
 passing down the '' Long Walk," our finest 
 promenade, which has the old bastion with 
 deep pits close to it, when he heard cries for 
 
456 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 help from a little boy who had fallen into 
 the deep, marshy water. Giinther instantly 
 threw off his overcoat, sprang into the 
 water, seized the child and saved it, but he, 
 the noble rescuer, sank and died. It has 
 excited deep sympathy in the town. His 
 brother came to the funeral, which was 
 grand and impressive in the highest degree ; 
 for the young German's noble deed had 
 deeply affected the whole population. More 
 than three thousand people of all classes, 
 rich and poor, followed his coffin. The 
 various corporations, the Prussian Ambassa- 
 dor, von Heydebrant, the Gentlemen-in- 
 Waiting of the King, and the Crown Prince 
 followed in the Royal carriages. On the way 
 there, and by the grave, the psalms were 
 accompanied by wind instruments. The 
 Chief of Police laid the Rescue Medal on 
 Gunther's coffin in the King's name, and our 
 German clergyman, Schmaltz, made a touch- 
 ing address in German at the side of the 
 grave. After him a Danish preacher spoke 
 in the national language. The railway 
 officials carried the coffin, and now a monu- 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 457 
 
 ment is to be erected at the grave to the 
 noble German who, with his life, saved a 
 Danish child. What a beautiful death for 
 Giinther ! God bless his noble act ! I am 
 sorry I was not at the funeral, but was 
 unable to go on account of my illness. 
 
 May I hope, my dear, noble Grand- Duke, 
 that you will remember me to H.R.H. 
 the Grand-Duchess, and the Grand- Ducal 
 children. 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to Carl Steen Adolf Bille. 
 
 Bregentved, 12th July 1874. 
 
 Dear Friend, — You have given me the 
 right to call you by this name. You have 
 ever been a true friend to me, — have given 
 me good advice, explained many a thing to 
 me, and tranquillised my easily excited 
 nerves, particularly upon the occasion of 
 that American hurricane. It is blowing now 
 
458 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 here again from that side. Yesterday even- 
 ing I received a letter from a child in New 
 York — I presume it is from New York — 
 and in it lay ''one dollar," as well as a 
 cutting from a newspaper, " The Children's 
 Debt ; " which I understand to be a sum- 
 mons to the youth of America to collect 
 the charitable shilling for me towards a 
 comfortable old age. Is that not so ? The 
 idea may be very nice if it were set on foot 
 by men of position, or if it attained a great 
 result. It would be an honour to young 
 America, as well as to the Danish poet. 
 But as it is here written, it does not impress 
 me. And it seems to me, if I understand 
 correctly, that it states I have never re- 
 ceived a dollar from America for my writ- 
 ings. I am supposed to have said that 
 myself. Such a thing has never passed my 
 lips, and it is certainly connected with the 
 false report circulated in the German news- 
 papers in reference to the visit of a Hun- 
 garian poet to me, that I said to him I had 
 never received so much as a shilling from 
 Germany as an honorarium for my works, 
 
CORRESPONDENCE 459 
 
 but, on the other hand, I had recently re- 
 ceived 800 thalers from America. I be- 
 lieve, dear friend, that I spoke of it to you, 
 and quite distinctly said that I once received 
 through Lord, the publisher (in Leipzig), 
 800 thalers (^120) for my collected writ- 
 ings, and lately, for a similar edition in 
 America, a small sum had been paid. All 
 this has now been grossly misrepresented, 
 even in Danish newspapers, and people 
 have congratulated me on having received 
 8000 thalers from America. 
 
 Now, the true version is something differ- 
 ent, and it really seems as if I were per- 
 petually complaining and asserting an un- 
 truth, which you and all my Danish friends 
 know that I never do. Tell me soon what 
 I am to do about it. To send back this 
 dollar seems to me unkind towards the kind 
 child who sent it to me. Writing letters 
 gives me too much trouble, and if the story 
 got into our papers the single dollar would 
 soon, in the mouths of the people, expand into 
 thousands of dollars received. Favour me 
 with a few words on the subject ! I do not 
 
460 HANS CIIRISTIAX ANDERSEN'S 
 
 know whether to be vexed or pleased at the 
 whole thing. 
 
 I am for the most part considerably better, 
 and can walk about in Bregentved's large 
 garden for nearly an hour. But I suffer 
 from any kind of agitation of the mind, and I 
 have been troubled by the American letter 
 and its contents. During the next few days 
 I hope to receive a tranquillising letter from 
 you, returning the communication and news- 
 paper cutting. 
 
 With greetings to your aimable wife and 
 the children, — Your very devoted, 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to Gibson Peacock, publisher of 
 '' The Evening Bulletin y 
 
 Copenhagen, ^oih August 1874. 
 
 Honoured Sir, — You will accept my 
 most sincere thanks for your kind com- 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 46 1 
 
 munlcation, and will hear with the same 
 disposition what I have to say. 
 
 American papers have taken the occasion 
 of my recent illness to discuss the outward 
 circumstances under which I live, and to 
 point out to parents and patrons the obliga- 
 tions which they owe me, after flattering- 
 expressions in relation to me as the author of 
 " Fairy Tales and Stories." I hear also, in 
 addition, that a general subscription has 
 begun in several places of the Union. You, 
 my unknown friend, have already forwarded 
 me some cash contributions. 
 
 The thought from which this movement 
 had its origin touches me deeply. It has 
 always been my joy and happiness that my 
 tales have found readers far beyond the 
 boundaries of my small fatherland, and its 
 little-known language, and I cannot be more 
 thankful for the bounties of Providence to- 
 wards me, in that it has been granted me 
 to influence such numberless child-souls, and, 
 as I hope, to have implanted in so many 
 childish hearts something of nobility and 
 goodness. It moves me deeply, and I admit 
 
462 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSKN'S 
 
 it most sincerely, that a feeling of obligation 
 and gratitude has been expressed towards 
 me. I feel it doubly in that you have sought 
 me after severe illness, and under presumably 
 narrow circumstances. 
 
 A gift of affection brought to me under 
 such conditions I cannot thrust aside. Large 
 or small, it bears a stamp which must make 
 it dear to me. Deeply touched, I send the 
 little ones my greeting and my thanks ! 
 
 But it is due to myself, as well as the 
 nation to which I belong, to clear up a 
 possible misunderstanding. I am still weak 
 after my illness, and am near the end of my 
 seventieth year ; but I do not find myself in 
 pecuniary distress. My fatherland does not 
 belong to those countries which allow their 
 poets to suffer want. Without being in the 
 service of the State, I receive yearly from it 
 an honourable, stipend, which covers all my 
 expenses. My work as an author also brings 
 me in an income, and althouoh it is a truth 
 that I have practically received no honorarium 
 for the manifold translations of my books into 
 foreign languages, yet I have here and there 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 463 
 
 been paid an indemnification, as from 
 America, for the so-called ''Author's Edition." 
 My sympathising friends, therefore, must not 
 think of me as a poor, forsaken, old poet, 
 who lives in anxiety for his daily bread, and 
 can take no care of his feeble body. In this 
 respect, also, God has been good towards me. 
 Kind friends surround me. Great happiness, 
 not to say fortune, has been my portion, 
 and not the least of it is the pleasure which I 
 experience, that in wide America many 
 children have broken open their- money- 
 boxes, in order to share their contents with 
 their old author, whom they believe to be in 
 the deepest necessity. 
 
 The whole is to me an enchanted page in 
 my life's history, but it must be understood 
 that I can accept no gift sent to me by 
 private individuals. However well meant 
 they might be, they would still have a stamp, 
 which would neither accord with the desire 
 of the giver, nor with my sense of dignity. 
 What would be to me an honour and a token 
 of esteem, when presented by the American 
 youth as a whole, would become a painful act 
 
464 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDEI<:^KN^ 
 
 of benevolence, if sent piece-meal in gifts 
 from single persons, and that for which I 
 ought really to feel pride and gratitude 
 would be turned to humiliation. 
 
 I beg you, sir, who have already proved to 
 me your kindly sympathy, to bring this, my 
 explanation, to the know^ledge of your 
 readers, and I hope that your respected 
 colleagues throughout the wide country will 
 give publicity to the same. — I remain, your 
 servant, 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 •Andersen to the Editor of the '' A^ezu York 
 Tribune y 
 
 Copenhagen, 17/// April 1875. 
 
 Most Honoured Sir, — It has long been 
 my heart's desire to write to you and 
 express my thanks for all the sympathy 
 you have shown me ; but my serious ill- 
 ness during the severe winter has brought 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 465 
 
 me so low that I can only write with 
 difficulty. It has been a real pleasure to 
 me to hear (after my explanation concern- 
 ing the American collection had been re- 
 ceived with such heartfelt comprehension), 
 that in consequence the dear young friends 
 had resolved to send me their fairy tale 
 teller, a work with many illustrations of 
 America. On Christmas day I received 
 the telegram about it. I expected that 
 the books would soon come to hand, and 
 it was my intention then immediately to 
 send my reply to you, my noble, sympa- 
 thetic friend. In the meantime, weeks and 
 months have passed away. I wrote, there- 
 fore, to my respected friend, General 
 Christensen, in New York, asking him 
 for some information as to whether the 
 package of books was lying at some book- 
 seller's, or at the bottom of the sea. About 
 the same time as I received his friendly 
 reply, information reached me that the ship 
 was coming, and just on my seventieth 
 birthday the books reached me. I am in- 
 finitely delighted with this gift, — the dear- 
 
 2 G 
 
466 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN'S 
 
 est one that could come to me from the 
 mighty land where I am so happy in 
 possessing so many friends among young 
 and old. I can now not only read about 
 that splendid country to which in my age 
 and weakness I cannot go, but also have 
 it before my eyes. 
 
 How splendid if that could have come 
 to pass next year at the time of the grand 
 festival ; but I have already had much 
 happiness which millions of others do not 
 share. 
 
 My seventieth birthday was a day rich 
 in sunshine and blessing. From every part 
 of my beloved fatherland, and far away 
 from its boundaries, came beautiful presents, 
 letters, and telegrams, and the welcome 
 gift of the American children arrived like- 
 wise. For what an infinite amount of good 
 have I to thank the dear God ! 
 
 At the same time I feel very much over- 
 come by all this. My weak body cannot 
 bear it. For the last fortnight, since my 
 birthday, I have been suffering, and in- 
 capable of writing this letter for the early 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 467 
 
 dispatch, of which I have felt the greatest 
 anxiety. Take the goodwill with my 
 poor words, and give these again in fuller 
 and better expression to young and old. 
 
 The precious work, ''Picturesque America," 
 is to me a dear gift, and will be preserved 
 after my death in memory of the love of 
 the American youth for their old story 
 teller, 
 
 H. C. Andersen. 
 
 Andersen to the Grand-Duke of Weimar. 
 
 Copenhagen, 7M May 1875. 
 
 Your Royal Highness, — Accept my most 
 heartfelt thanks for the repeated proofs of 
 kindness and sympathy you have shown 
 me. Last week, when I received the letter 
 from my noble Grand- Duke, written by his 
 own hand, and learned from it that the 
 Grand-Ducal family had remembered me 
 on my seventieth birthday, I would have 
 
468 HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEX's 
 
 written immediately; but it was signified at 
 the same time that a high Order had 
 been conferred upon me which would soon 
 arrive. I have now received the Decora- 
 tion, and am full of gratitude. 
 
 My birthday, April 2nd, was a grand and 
 splendid day for me ; but I was very ill, 
 and it was trying to me to receive the de- 
 putations and other visitors. Long after- 
 wards, and now also, I am so continually 
 exhausted that I can only write with diffi- 
 culty, and but inadequately express my 
 feelings to you, my exalted patron. 
 
 I had so much to relate of all the affec- 
 tion which came to me from every side : 
 from our Royal House, from the whole 
 Danish kingdom, and from foreign countries. 
 
 From the '* Verein Berliner Presse " I 
 received a pretty and richly mounted con- 
 gratulatory address, and most beautiful gifts 
 from many others. 
 
 God willing I shall soon leave the town. 
 Only country quiet and summer warmth 
 can help me. How happy would I feel if 
 I could this summer again see Weimar's 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 469 
 
 noble Grand- Duke, the Grand- Duchess, and 
 the children. 
 
 Prosperity and happiness to the land 
 where Goethe, Herden, and Schiller lived, 
 where the Minnesingers held their festivals, 
 and Luther found a home. With deepest 
 respect and sincere gratitude, 
 
 H C. Andersen. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 Since going to press, the Publishers have 
 come into possession of the following 
 letter. 
 
 Charles Dickens to Hans Andersen. 
 
 Villa des Moulineaux, near Boulogne, 
 Saturday^ yhjuly 1856. 
 
 My Dear and Worthy Hans, — I am 
 extremely sorry that I cannot show your 
 friend Mr. Bille the attention and interest 
 that it would indeed be a" great pleasure to 
 me to testify to any friend of yours. But I 
 have left London for the summer, in order 
 that I may work the more freely and pleas- 
 antly in the midst of a pretty garden 
 here. You know, my dear fellow-labourer, 
 what the distractions of a London life are 
 
472 APPENDIX. 
 
 and what a relief it is to escape from them. 
 You will not be surprised at my remaining 
 away from it as long as I can, and not in- 
 tending to return to London until late in 
 October. 
 
 I cannot write to explain this to Mr. 
 Bille myself, because I have not received 
 with your letter (which he left at my house 
 in town) any card of his, and consequently 
 I do not know his address. But when you 
 next see him or communicate with him, 
 pray do me the favour to tell him how 
 glad I should have been to have tried to 
 make his visit to London more domestic 
 and agreeable if I had been there. You 
 have too mucn modesty to be able to tell 
 him how delightedly and cordially I should 
 have taken a hand that had been lately in 
 your grasp, so I will tell him that myself 
 when he comes again. 
 
 And you, my friend — when are you com- 
 ing again ? Nine years (as you say) have 
 flown away since you were among us. In 
 these nine years you have not faded out 
 of the hearts of the English people, but 
 
APPENDIX. 473 
 
 have become even better known and more 
 beloved than when you saw them for the 
 first time. When Aladdin shall have come 
 out of those caves of science to run a 
 triumphant course on earth and make us 
 all wiser and better — as I know you will — 
 you ought to come for another visit. You 
 ought to come to me, for example, and 
 stay In my house. We would all do our 
 best to make you happy. 
 
 I am hard at work at " Little Dorrit," and 
 she will hold me prisoner for another nine 
 or ten months. She is a wonderful favour- 
 ite in England. The mention of my coun- 
 try's name reminds me to say, that you 
 now write English most admirably, and 
 that this letter of yours now lying on my 
 desk is a perfect Englishman's. 
 
 Mrs. Dickens wishes me to tell you, 
 that she would have been mortally offended 
 if you had suspected her of forgetting you, 
 and that you only do her justice in suppos- 
 ing that you live in her remembrance. 
 Such of my children as you saw at Broad- 
 stalrs-by-the-Sea, and especially my two 
 
474 APPENDIX. 
 
 daughters, who are now young women, are 
 very indignant at your dreaming of the 
 possibility of their forgetting Hans Chris- 
 tian Andersen. They say that if you know 
 them half as well as they have for years 
 and years known Tommelise or the " Ugly 
 Duck," you would know better. However, 
 they send you their love and forgiveness. 
 
 My dear Andersen, I have had the 
 heartiest pleasure in hearing from you again, 
 and I assure you that I love and esteem 
 you more than I could tell you on as much 
 paper as would pave the whole road from 
 here to Copenhagen. 
 
 Ever your affectionate friend, 
 
 Charles Dickens. 
 
 Printed by Cmvan <Sr' Co., Limited. Perth. 
 
Handsomely bound, cloth gilt, gilt edges, demy 8vo, price 10s. 6d. 
 
 Or Library Edition, two volumes 6s. each. 
 
 Players oTthe Period, 
 
 By fll^iPHUP^ GODDAI^D, 
 
 Being a Series of Anecdotal, Biographical and Critical 
 Monographs of the kading living Actors^ 
 
 INCLUDING STUDIES OF 
 
 BANCROFT, S. B. 
 BARRETT, WILSON. 
 BARRINGTON, RUTLAND 
 BROUGH, LIONEL. 
 CECIL, ARTHUR. 
 GROSSMITH, GEORGE. 
 HARE, JOHN. 
 IRVING, HENRY. 
 KENDAL, W. H. 
 
 NEVILLE, HENRY G. 
 TERRISS, WILLIAM. 
 TERRY, EDWARD. 
 THORNE, THOMAS. 
 TOOLE, J. L. 
 TREE, H. BEERBOHM. 
 WARNER, CHARLES. 
 WILLARD, E. S. 
 WYNDHAM, CHARLES. 
 
 Portraits of the Actors and numerous character sketches by " Alma," 
 
 Fred Barnard, Alfred Bryan, Phil May, Georges Pilotelle. J. 
 Bernard Partridge, F. H. Townsend, and other well-known Artists. 
 
 The studies of the various popular Actors' careers and artistic methodsr 
 combined with the personal portraits and character sketches, extending from 
 i\ie debuts of the players until the present time, make the volume an exceptionally 
 comprehensive record, gathering into one work a host of authoritative and 
 mojlt interesting details. 
 
 Peculiar interest and value is attached to the fact that the portraits of the 
 Actors are accompanied by their autographs, with quotations also written by 
 themselves, and reproduced in fac-simile of handwriting, from plays with 
 which their names are universally associated. 
 
P @F WPM FE1^I©D. 
 
 WHAT THE PRESS THINK ABOUT IT. 
 
 Daily News. — " While avoiding the set form of biography, 
 Mr. Goddard discourses vivaciously, criticises judiciously, and 
 altogether furnishes much entertainment in combination with 
 information which is of interest to those who concern themselves 
 with the modern stage." 
 
 Court Circular. — " An entertaining and readable book — 
 contains a vast amount of pleasant gossip about certain prominent 
 actors, and some good anecdotes." 
 
 Globe. — " His statements are accurate ; his comments are 
 genial and moderate ; the anecdotes he relates have the merit of 
 being unhackneyed. The illustrations are mostly successful and all 
 are interesting. 
 
 Daily Telegraph. — '* The books are capitally got up, and are 
 well illustrated ; the facts are accurate, and the criticism as just as 
 it is kindly." 
 
 Anti- Jacobin. — " Almost the last of this class of book was the 
 collection ' Lives of the most celebrated Actors and Actresses, by 
 Thomas Marshall, Esquire,' which was published in 1847, and has 
 had no really important successor till now. It is scarcely necessary 
 to say that the objectional features of the older theatrical biographies 
 are entirely absent from Mr. Goddard's work. His taste is generally 
 unimpeachable." 
 
 Court Journal. — "The author has shown a keen appreciation 
 of each actor's qualities in recognising with critical acumen the 
 peculiar characteristics of his subjects, and assigning with 
 exceptional skill a fitting place in the temple of dramatic art." 
 
 Lady's I'ictorial. — " Chatty, charming and instructive; there 
 are many shrewd hits, and the criticism is as penetrating as it is 
 kindly ... A most readable and reliable dramatic * History of our 
 own Time." 
 
 LONDON : DEAN & SON, 160a, FLEET STREET, E.G. 
 
Handsomely bound, cloth gilt, large post 8vo, price 6/- 
 
 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 A Corsican Vendetta Story, by PHILIPPE TONELLI. 
 
 Illustrated by R. ANDEE, 
 
 " ARE YOU AWARE TO WHAT YOU HAVE EXPOSED YOURSELF ?" 
 
 In this work the author gives not only a stirring narrative, but a vivid picture 
 of the manners and customs of Corsica. The Corsican temperament appears 
 to be full of noble impulse, but uncliecked and unrestrained it becomes almost 
 that of a savage ; gentle and lovable in the times of peace, it is terrible when 
 roused to anger or malice, M. Tonelli's book shows both sides of the national 
 character. 
 
 LONDON : DEAN & SON, 160a, FLEET STREET, E.G. 
 
HANDSOMELY BOUND, PRICE 10/6: 
 
 ^^ By ^. O. I^APLAN. ^- 
 
 With 23 coloured and other illustrations printed in fac-simile of the 
 original aquarelles by 
 
 FvcLTLce s J\£. (^rzLTxcLage, 
 
 An entirely novel high art presentation book, most 
 artistically designed by Frances M. Brundage, excellently 
 adapted for parents to purchase for a christening or birthday 
 gift book. This most admirably bound and exquisitely 
 illustrated gift book consists of over seventy pages, printed 
 in splendid style by Goupil, of Paris, on hand-made paper, 
 and is intended to preserve a record of the life of a child 
 from its birthday to its majority. The following are 
 some of the principal subjects — " Naming of Baby," 
 " Baby's first Photo,:;raph," " The Lock of Hair," " Baby's 
 first Word," "Baby's first Tooth," "Baby's first Steps,"/ 
 " Baby's first Christmas," " First Day at School," •• Recorder 
 of Birthdays," " Baby's first Prayer, ' etc., etc., and *'^-<^ 
 spaces are reserved for filling in these most interesting 
 particulars. 
 
 ^^- 
 
 LONDON : DEAN & SON, 160a, FLEET STREET, E.G. 
 
Small 4to, Bound, Price Is. each. 
 
 WITH TWELVE FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS BY CROW IN EACH BOOK 
 
 -McBY CHARLES F. RIDEAL,*<- 
 
 Author of People we meet,*^ " Wellerisms,^^ d'c. 
 
 YOUNG LADIES OF TO-DAY. 
 
 An amusing book of character 
 sketches, depicting various 
 types of the modern young 
 lady, such as — TheYoungLady 
 who Eecites — TheYoung Lady 
 who writes for the Papers — 
 The Strong - Minded Young 
 Lady — The Trained Nurse 
 Young Lady — The Sportive 
 Young Lady — The Musical 
 Young Lady — TheYoungLady 
 who Flirts — The Young Lady 
 who doesn't — The Society 
 Young Lady — The District 
 Visiting Young Lady — The 
 Young Lady we like — The 
 Young Lady who Smokes. 
 
 YOUNG 
 
 GENTLEMEN OF 
 
 TO-DAY. 
 
 A Companion Volume to the 
 above, by the same Author, 
 and with 12 full-pa«e illustra- 
 tions by the same Artist. In 
 this book are dealt with — The 
 Political Young Gentleman — 
 The Bank Holiday Young 
 Gentleman — The Sporting 
 Young Gentleman — The Legal 
 Young Gentleman — The So- 
 cialistYoung Gentleman — The 
 Military Young Gentleman — 
 The Stock-broking Young 
 Gentl.man— The Hyde Park 
 YoungGentleman — TheYoung 
 Gentleman we like — The Mus- 
 ical Young Gentleman — The 
 Literary Young Gentleman — 
 The Young Gentle m.an from 
 the Country. 
 
 THE YOUNG LADY WE LIKE. 
 
 LONDON : DEAN & SON, 160a, FLEET STREET, E.G. 
 
Handsomely bounds price Six Shillings. 
 
 SOUVENIRS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 SECOND EMPIRE; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE LAST DAYS OF THE COURT OF NAPOLEON, 
 
 BY THE 
 
 SOMTB DB fflAUGNY, 
 (Formerly Minister for Foreign Affairs.) 
 
 This interesting volume of reminiscences of a Cabinet Minister 
 is full of anecdotes relating to all that passed amongst the Court and 
 Society, the Clubs and the Theatres, in the reign of Napoleon III. 
 It contains, also, numerous particulars as to the Lives of all the 
 Celebrities of the period, including the Emperor, General Floury, 
 the Prince and Princess de Metternich, Baron Hausmann, Von 
 Moltke, Thiers, Guizot, &c., &c. 
 
 LONDON : DEAN & SON, 160a, FLEET STREET, E.G. 
 
i 
 
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 RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED 
 
 LOAN DEPT. 
 
 This book is due on the last date stamped below, or 
 
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 Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. 
 
 
 
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 LD 21A-50m-4.'59 
 (A1724BlO)47r)H 
 
 General Library 
 
 I ^niversiry of California 
 
 Berkeley