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In the old days, when grandpapa was quite a little boy, and ran
about in little red breeches and a red coat, and a feather in his
cap—for that's the costume the little boys wore in his time when
they were dressed in their best—many things were very different from
what they are now. There was often a good deal of show in the
streets—show that we don't see nowadays, because it has been
abolished as too old-fashioned. Still, it is very interesting to
hear grandfather tell about it.
It must really have been a gorgeous sight to behold, in those days,
when the shoemaker brought over the shield, when the court-house was
changed. The silken flag waved to and fro, on the shield itself a
double eagle was displayed, and a big boot; the youngest lads
carried the "welcome," and the chest of the workmen's guild, and
their shirt-sleeves were adorned with red and white ribbons; the
elder ones carried drawn swords, each with a lemon stuck on its
point. There was a full band of music, and the most splendid of all
the instruments was the "bird," as grandfather called the big stick
with the crescent on the top, and all manner of dingle-dangles
hanging to it—a perfect Turkish clatter of music. The stick was
lifted high in the air, and swung up and down till it jingled again,
and quite dazzled one's eyes when the sun shone on all its glory of
gold, and silver, and brass.
In front of the procession ran the Harlequin, dressed in clothes
made of all kinds of colored patches artfully sewn together, with a
black face, and bells on his head like a sledge horse. He beat the
people with his bat, which made a great clattering without hurting
them, and the people would crowd together and fall back, only to
advance again the next moment. Little boys and girls fell over their
own toes into the gutter, old women dispensed digs with their
elbows, and looked sour, and took snuff. One laughed, another
chatted; the people thronged the windows and door-steps, and even
all the roofs. The sun shone; and although they had a little rain
too, that was good for the farmer; and when they got wetted
thoroughly, they only thought what a blessing it was for the
country.
And what stories grandpapa could tell! As a little boy he had seen
all these fine doings in their greatest pomp. The oldest of the
policemen used to make a speech from the platform on which the
shield was hung up, and the speech was in verse, as if it had been
made by a poet, as, indeed it had; for three people had concocted it
together, and they had first drunk a good bowl of punch, so that the
speech might turn out well.
And the people gave a cheer for the speech, but they shouted much
louder for the Harlequin, when he appeared in front of the platform,
and made a grimace at them.
The fools played the fool most admirably, and drank mead out of
spirit-glasses, which they then flung among the crowd, by whom they
were caught up. Grandfather was the possessor of one of these
glasses, which had been given him by a working mason, who had
managed to catch it. Such a scene was really very pleasant; and the
shield on the new court-house was hung with flowers and green
wreaths.
"One never forgets a feast like that, however old one may grow,"
said grandfather. Nor did he forget it, though he saw many other
grand spectacles in his time, and could tell about them too; but it
was most pleasant of all to hear him tell about the shield that was
brought in the town from the old to the new court-house.
Once, when he was a little boy, grandpapa had gone with his parents
to see this festivity. He had never yet been in the metropolis of
the country. There were so many people in the streets, that he
thought that the shield was being carried. There were many shields
to be seen; a hundred rooms might have been filled with pictures, if
they had been hung up inside and outside. At the tailor's were
pictures of all kinds of clothing, to show that he could stitch up
people from the coarsest to the finest; at the tobacco
manufacturer's were pictures of the most charming little boys,
smoking cigars, just as they do in reality; there were signs with
painted butter, and herring, clerical collars, and coffins, and
inscriptions and announcements into the bargain. A person could walk
up and down for a whole day through the streets, and tire himself
out with looking at the pictures; and then he would know all about
what people lived in the houses, for they had hung out their shields
or signs; and, as grandfather said, it was a very instructive thing,
in a great town, to know at once who the inhabitants were.
And this is what happened with these shields, when grandpapa came to
the town. He told it me himself, and he hadn't "a rogue on his
back," as mother used to tell me he had when he wanted to make me
believe something outrageous, for now he looked quite trustworthy.
The first night after he came to the town had been signalized by the
most terrible gale ever recorded in the newspapers—a gale such as
none of the inhabitants had ever before experienced. The air was
dark with flying tiles; old wood-work crashed and fell; and a
wheelbarrow ran up the streets all alone, only to get out of the
way. There was a groaning in the air, and a howling and a shrieking,
and altogether it was a terrible storm. The water in the canal rose
over the banks, for it did not know where to run. The storm swept
over the town, carrying plenty of chimneys with it, and more than
one proud weathercock on a church tower had to bow, and has never
got over it from that time.
There was a kind of sentry-house, where dwelt the venerable old
superintendent of the fire brigade, who always arrived with the last
engine. The storm would not leave this little sentry-house alone,
but must needs tear it from its fastenings, and roll it down the
street; and, wonderfully enough, it stopped opposite to the door of
the dirty journeyman plasterer, who had saved three lives at the
last fire, but the sentry-house thought nothing of that.
The barber's shield, the great brazen dish, was carried away, and
hurled straight into the embrasure of the councillor of justice; and
the whole neighborhood said this looked almost like malice, inasmuch
as they, and nearly all the friends of the councillor's wife, used
to call that lady "the Razor" for she was so sharp that she knew
more about other people's business than they knew about it
themselves.
A shield with a dried salt fish painted on it flew exactly in front
of the door of a house where dwelt a man who wrote a newspaper. That
was a very poor joke perpetrated by the gale, which seemed to have
forgotten that a man who writes in a paper is not the kind of person
to understand any liberty taken with him; for he is a king in his
own newspaper, and likewise in his own opinion.
The weathercock flew to the opposite house, where he perched,
looking the picture of malice—so the neighbors said.
The cooper's tub stuck itself up under the head of "ladies'
costumes."
The eating-house keeper's bill of fare, which had hung at his door
in a heavy frame, was posted by the storm over the entrance to the
theatre, where nobody went. "It was a ridiculous list—horse-radish,
soup, and stuffed cabbage." And now people came in plenty.
The fox's skin, the honorable sign of the furrier, was found
fastened to the bell-pull of a young man who always went to early
lecture, and looked like a furled umbrella. He said he was striving
after truth, and was considered by his aunt "a model and an
example."
The inscription "Institution for Superior Education" was found near
the billiard club, which place of resort was further adorned with
the words, "Children brought up by hand." Now, this was not at all
witty; but, you see, the storm had done it, and no one has any
control over that.
It was a terrible night, and in the morning—only think!—nearly all
the shields had changed places. In some places the inscriptions were
so malicious, that grandfather would not speak of them at all; but I
saw that he was chuckling secretly, and there may have been some
inaccuracy in his description, after all.
The poor people in the town, and still more the strangers, were
continually making mistakes in the people they wanted to see; nor
was this to be avoided, when they went according to the shields that
were hung up. Thus, for instance, some who wanted to go to a very
grave assembly of elderly men, where important affairs were to be
discussed, found themselves in a noisy boys' school, where all the
company were leaping over the chairs and tables.
There were also people who made a mistake between the church and the
theatre, and that was terrible indeed!
Such a storm we have never witnessed in our day; for that only
happened in grandpapa's time, when he was quite a little boy.
Perhaps we shall never experience a storm of the kind, but our
grandchildren may; and we can only hope and pray that all may stay
at home while the storm is moving the shields.
The Storm Shakes the Shield
A Classic Children's Short Story
by
Hans Christian Andersen |
