THE STORY OF THE WIND [0]
1872
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
THE STORY OF THE WIND
by Hans Christian Andersen
"NEAR the shores of the great Belt, which is one of the straits
that connect the Cattegat with the Baltic, stands an old mansion
with thick red walls. I know every stone of it," says the Wind. "I saw
it when it was part of the castle of Marck Stig on the promontory. But
the castle was obliged to be pulled down, and the stone was used again
for the walls of a new mansion on another spot- the baronial residence
of Borreby, which still stands near the coast. I knew them well, those
noble lords and ladies, the successive generations that dwelt there;
and now I'm going to tell you of Waldemar Daa and his daughters. How
proud was his bearing, for he was of royal blood, and could boast of
more noble deeds than merely hunting the stag and emptying the
wine-cup. His rule was despotic: 'It shall be,' he was accustomed to
say. His wife, in garments embroidered with gold, stepped proudly over
the polished marble floors. The tapestries were gorgeous, and the
furniture of costly and artistic taste. She had brought gold and plate
with her into the house. The cellars were full of wine. Black, fiery
horses, neighed in the stables. There was a look of wealth about the
house of Borreby at that time. They had three children, daughters,
fair and delicate maidens- Ida, Joanna, and Anna Dorothea; I have
never forgotten their names. They were a rich, noble family, born in
affluence and nurtured in luxury.
"Whir-r-r, whir-r-r!" roared the Wind, and went on, "I did not see
in this house, as in other great houses, the high-born lady sitting
among her women, turning the spinning-wheel. She could sweep the
sounding chords of the guitar, and sing to the music, not always
Danish melodies, but the songs of a strange land. It was 'Live and let
live,' here. Stranger guests came from far and near, music sounded,
goblets clashed, and I," said the Wind, "was not able to drown the
noise. Ostentation, pride, splendor, and display ruled, but not the
fear of the Lord.
"It was on the evening of the first day of May," the Wind
continued, "I came from the west, and had seen the ships overpowered
with the waves, when all on board persisted or were cast shipwrecked
on the coast of Jutland. I had hurried across the heath and over
Jutland's wood-girt eastern coast, and over the island of Funen, and
then I drove across the great belt, sighing and moaning. At length I
lay down to rest on the shores of Zeeland, near to the great house
of Borreby, where the splendid forest of oaks still flourished. The
young men of the neighborhood were collecting branches and brushwood
under the oak-trees. The largest and dryest they could find they
carried into the village, and piled them up in a heap and set them
on fire. Then the men and maidens danced, and sung in a circle round
the blazing pile. I lay quite quiet," said the Wind, "but I silently
touched a branch which had been brought by one of the handsomest of
the young men, and the wood blazed up brightly, blazed brighter than
all the rest. Then he was chosen as the chief, and received the name
of the Shepherd; and might choose his lamb from among the maidens.
There was greater mirth and rejoicing than I had ever heard in the
halls of the rich baronial house. Then the noble lady drove by towards
the baron's mansion with her three daughters, in a gilded carriage
drawn by six horses. The daughters were young and beautiful- three
charming blossoms- a rose, a lily, and a white hyacinth. The mother
was a proud tulip, and never acknowledged the salutations of any of
the men or maidens who paused in their sport to do her honor. The
gracious lady seemed like a flower that was rather stiff in the stalk.
Rose, lily, and hyacinth- yes, I saw them all three. Whose little
lambs will they one day become? thought
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
THE STORY OF THE WIND
by Hans Christian Andersen
"NEAR the shores of the great Belt, which is one of the straits
that connect the Cattegat with the Baltic, stands an old mansion
with thick red walls. I know every stone of it," says the Wind. "I saw
it when it was part of the castle of Marck Stig on the promontory. But
the castle was obliged to be pulled down, and the stone was used again
for the walls of a new mansion on another spot- the baronial residence
of Borreby, which still stands near the coast. I knew them well, those
noble lords and ladies, the successive generations that dwelt there;
and now I'm going to tell you of Waldemar Daa and his daughters. How
proud was his bearing, for he was of royal blood, and could boast of
more noble deeds than merely hunting the stag and emptying the
wine-cup. His rule was despotic: 'It shall be,' he was accustomed to
say. His wife, in garments embroidered with gold, stepped proudly over
the polished marble floors. The tapestries were gorgeous, and the
furniture of costly and artistic taste. She had brought gold and plate
with her into the house. The cellars were full of wine. Black, fiery
horses, neighed in the stables. There was a look of wealth about the
house of Borreby at that time. They had three children, daughters,
fair and delicate maidens- Ida, Joanna, and Anna Dorothea; I have
never forgotten their names. They were a rich, noble family, born in
affluence and nurtured in luxury.
"Whir-r-r, whir-r-r!" roared the Wind, and went on, "I did not see
in this house, as in other great houses, the high-born lady sitting
among her women, turning the spinning-wheel. She could sweep the
sounding chords of the guitar, and sing to the music, not always
Danish melodies, but the songs of a strange land. It was 'Live and let
live,' here. Stranger guests came from far and near, music sounded,
goblets clashed, and I," said the Wind, "was not able to drown the
noise. Ostentation, pride, splendor, and display ruled, but not the
fear of the Lord.
"It was on the evening of the first day of May," the Wind
continued, "I came from the west, and had seen the ships overpowered
with the waves, when all on board persisted or were cast shipwrecked
on the coast of Jutland. I had hurried across the heath and over
Jutland's wood-girt eastern coast, and over the island of Funen, and
then I drove across the great belt, sighing and moaning. At length I
lay down to rest on the shores of Zeeland, near to the great house
of Borreby, where the splendid forest of oaks still flourished. The
young men of the neighborhood were collecting branches and brushwood
under the oak-trees. The largest and dryest they could find they
carried into the village, and piled them up in a heap and set them
on fire. Then the men and maidens danced, and sung in a circle round
the blazing pile. I lay quite quiet," said the Wind, "but I silently
touched a branch which had been brought by one of the handsomest of
the young men, and the wood blazed up brightly, blazed brighter than
all the rest. Then he was chosen as the chief, and received the name
of the Shepherd; and might choose his lamb from among the maidens.
There was greater mirth and rejoicing than I had ever heard in the
halls of the rich baronial house. Then the noble lady drove by towards
the baron's mansion with her three daughters, in a gilded carriage
drawn by six horses. The daughters were young and beautiful- three
charming blossoms- a rose, a lily, and a white hyacinth. The mother
was a proud tulip, and never acknowledged the salutations of any of
the men or maidens who paused in their sport to do her honor. The
gracious lady seemed like a flower that was rather stiff in the stalk.
Rose, lily, and hyacinth- yes, I saw them all three. Whose little
lambs will they one day become? thought