Cousin-hunting in Scandinavia

by Mary Wilhelmine Williams

Bornholm still celebrates the anniversary of her victory over the Swedes; and within the last few years, at Hasle, where the revolt had its origin, a large monumental stone was erected, bearing the Danish coat-of-arms and the names of the men who headed the revolt. Of these, Jens Pedersen Kofoed, a Bornholmer who was a member of the Danish army, and Paul Anker, the pastor of the church of Hasle, are the most important.

At some distance from the “liberty stones” is Bornholm’s Museum,—the special pride of all Bornholmers; and well it might be, for the collection there, in view of the smallness of the island, is an unusually large and fine one. The curator, a woman and a true Bornholmer, proudly informed me that Copenhagen would be most happy to possess the African collection. To me the objects of most interest, however, were those throwing light upon Bornholm’s own history. These range from rude stone utensils out of the shadowy past of the island to an exhibit of graceful royal Copenhagen porcelain;—for Bornholm it is that supplies the clay from which the beautiful ware is made. The cost of manufacture seems to be too great to admit of the use of the porcelain for distinctly practical purposes; consequently, its functions are largely ornamental, and it appears chiefly in the form of vases, plaques, and statuettes. The last-named class I gazed at most lingeringly, for the subjects were varied and especially alluring. There were wonderfully-glazed robin-red-breasts sunning themselves; perky foxes with noses pointing skyward; sleepy, yawning tigers; cats crouching to spring upon unconscious nibbling mice; kerchiefed Bornholm old ladies carrying market baskets, and busily knitting as they walked; and a fond pair of children, one of whom was hugging the very life out of a tousled fat puppy. So skilful had been the artist that I caught myself actually pitying the porcelain pup.

Bornholm’s Museum and St. Morten’s Street, Rönne

Bridge Crossing the Old Moat at Hammershuus Castle

In one room was an unusually large collection of “grandfather” clocks, with elaborately and quaintly decorated faces, and with crude, clumsy weights. Bornholm at one time was famous for the manufacture of this style of time-piece. And in another room were glass-cases filled with dummy Bornholm men and women and helpless-looking dummy babies, clad in the fashions of various past ages. The garb of these dummies convinced me that fashions are not actually growing worse; for surely clothes cannot be uglier or more uncomfortable in appearance than the ancient elegance behind the glass doors within the museum.

One souvenir of unusual historical importance, the key to old Hammershuus Castle, is also on display among the exhibits. The castle, Bornholm’s chief stronghold for centuries, was occupied by the Swedish garrison for some months previous to the revolt in 1658. But Hammershuus has now long been in ruins, and its key is resting from its labors among the other antique relics in Bornholm’s Museum.

In the art collection are several paintings by famous Danes; and a whole room is set aside for the works of Lars Hansen Tobiasen, the portrait artist who was Bornholm’s own son. As yet, only a few of his pictures have been placed in the room—including portraits of himself and his parents, and of Oelenschläger, Denmark’s greatest poet. One painting by Tobiasen seemed to me quite unique; it is the arm of a young woman. That sounds cadaverous, doesn’t it?—like an anatomical chart, or an illustration in a medical journal. But the portrait suggested anything but that;—for a portrait it was—of the arm of a Danish damsel instead of her face—expressive of individual character as well as of beauty of color and line. Tobiasen spent twenty years of his life in Sweden, where he painted the royal family, and some of his pictures are there. Others are in Rönne, still in the possession of relatives; but with the passing of this generation, the curator told me, these last are by the artist’s will to go to the museum.

In a shed near the main building are the skeletons of moose and reindeer which roamed through the forests of prehistoric Bornholm. And outside in the yard are many runestones, graven by the hands of pagan Bornholmers. The island seems to have specialized upon these stones in times past, as well as upon grandfather clocks; for even to-day they stand here and there by the wayside and are, in many cases, still clearly marked with ancient runic characters.