The pleasantest promenade in the city is called the Lange Linie, a wide shaded walk extending along the sea on one side of the citadel, at the end of which are several sea-bathing establishments; it is a favorite resort on an afternoon, and one encounters many promenaders, enjoying the bracing sea breezes and the views of the gleaming waters traversed by numerous steamers and sailing craft. The citadel is surrounded by a moat, but the drawbridge is always down and one enters freely, walks about the earth-works and walls, among the cannon and barracks, and explores unmolested to his heart’s content, in great contrast to the fortresses of Germany, where no stranger is allowed to enter without a permit, and at every step is accompanied by a soldier.
The Botanic Gardens are laid out on the site of the ancient fortifications, and furnish an agreeable lounging place, even if one is not interested in flowers and plants. In this section of the city are many wide streets and boulevards, with handsome modern houses built on the Parisian model of flats. The handsome brick Rosenborg Palace near by is especially interesting from its collection of personal mementoes of the Danish monarchs, who fitted up suites of rooms in the style of their various epochs, and collected here their jewels, weapons, coronation robes, state costumes, and curiosities. In the rear of the palace is a pretty park, open to the public, which is a favorite resort of nurses and the rising generation of Danes.
The part of the city adjacent to the railway station appears to be of very recent growth; its wide streets, lighted by electric light and traversed by horse-cars, are bounded by large hotels and imposing business blocks and houses.
In this quarter is the Tivoli, the most popular resort in Copenhagen, and a most attractive place on a summer evening. It is an immense garden, containing many handsome concert halls, gorgeous pavilions, restaurants, booths for the sale of fancy articles, and every conceivable means of amusement. You pay 50 öre (about thirteen cents) to enter, and are then free to select such entertainment as your fancy dictates. From six to eleven o’clock in the evening there is a change of entertainment every half hour. The first evening we spent at the Tivoli the programme began with a concert from a brass band; then for half an hour in a beautiful concert hall in a different part of the gardens, a string orchestra of sixty performers played selections from one of Beethoven’s symphonies; after which there was a rush to watch, during the next half hour, a trapeze performance in the open air, followed by jumping, tumbling, and walking a wire; the brass band gave another concert; an operetta in one act followed, the audience sitting in chairs beneath the trees before the stage; then came the second part of the orchestral concert, with selections from Wagner’s Tannhäuser. In another part of the garden, a play at a small theatre occupies the next hour, and you begin to feel that you have received many times the worth of the price of admission; and yet the programme is not exhausted.
As the lingering June twilight deepens, the gardens are illuminated by festoons and arches of lights in colored globes, the façades of the cafés, restaurants, and other buildings blaze with light, and the entire grounds become a picture of enchantment and festivity.
The lively Danes sit at little tables beneath the trees, eat cold sausage, drink beer, and take in the music, the same as their near neighbors in Germany.
You can explore grottos and caves, sit in romantic arbors, or promenade through leafy allées lined with statues, copies from the antique and Thorvaldsen’s masterpieces. If you long to spend a few surplus öre, there are open cars rushing like a whirlwind down one hill and up another much like a roller toboggan; merry-go-rounds with boats furnish you the motion of the Baltic and the sensation of sea sickness on a limited scale, or you can take a cruise on a diminutive steamer up and down a contracted lake; you can gaze upon the fat woman, the living skeleton, or the double-headed girl, peep through a camera obscura, shoot at glass balls, and blow to test your lungs. There is everything for all classes, for this is the great and original Tivoli, which has many imitators, in Germany and other European countries, but still remains without an equal. At stated periods there are fête nights, when fireworks and extra illuminations are furnished, but at any and all times the Tivoli is a pleasant place in which to spend an evening, and one that no traveller should miss seeing.
The Danes spell the name of their city, Kjöbenhavn, but it is difficult to recognize in this combination of letters our New England name of the kissing game with the rope, called Copenhagen, which you, gentle reader, have doubtless played at some period of your life. Perhaps it is a Yankee game after all and not Danish, for nowhere in Copenhagen did we see it played, not even at the Tivoli, where every conceivable form of amusement is furnished.
The environs of Copenhagen offer a variety of pleasing and interesting excursions. The horse-cars will take you in half an hour to Frederiksburg, a very enjoyable ride, as the cars are constructed after the general European model, with a narrow staircase ascending to the roof, upon which are comfortable seats, whence you have an unobstructed view. The Frederiksburg Palace, standing upon an eminence, has been converted into a military school, from the long shaded terrace in front of which you have a beautiful view of Copenhagen, with its towers and spires. The adjoining gardens were occupied by family parties taking their lunch in picnic style, and the neighboring natural park of Söndermarken offered many shady and agreeable walks.