Soren Kierkegaard

berly noted that “the church was packed.” The first two rows of seats were
reserved for members of the family. Just behind them sat Rasmus Nielsen,
who, in his rush, had managed to close the little door to the pew so firmly
that, rather symbolically, it got jammed shut. Hans Christian Andersen was
also there, and in a letter he subsequently wrote to August Bournonville,
who was down in Vienna, Andersen recounted that the scene in the church
had been chaotic and absolutely inappropriate for a funeral: “Ladies in red
and blue hats were coming and going,” he reported in indignation, and he
had also seen “a dog with a muzzle.” The little flower-bedecked casket was
surrounded by a group of sinister-looking fellows, common men from the
street, but suddenly a phalanx of university students pushed their way
through the church and encircled the casket.
Old Archdeacon Tryde, who was responsible for the funeral and burial
arrangements, was uncomfortable with the entire affair. He had “heatedly
and earnestly” attempted to persuade the family to transfer the ceremony
to Frederik’s Hospital or to the chapel at Holy Spirit Church. He feverishly
pushed his little skullcap back and forth on his head, and his face, usually
so placid, was contorted with nervous tension. His face, like his skullcap,
did not relax until Peter Christian stood by the casket to deliver his talk.
Peter Christian had not brought any notes, only a little calling card on
which, as was his custom on such occasions, he had “suggested to myself
something of the elements to be included.” It was not until 1881 that he
attempted to reconstruct his eulogy, basing his reconstruction in part on “a
slightly hostile or clumsy summary that appeared in a newspaper.” On the
basis of this reconstruction we can conclude that Peter Christian wisely
refrained from direct polemics against the deceased, but merely expressed
regret that neither he nor anyone else had succeeded, “with the confident
gaze and the mild embraces of love,” in “luring or compelling” the deceased
to take a sorely needed “long and quiet rest, and to collect himself calmly
after the excessive stress.” Peter Christian’s unpolemical tone was attested
to in a summary published in a provincial newspaper, which noted, among
other things, that “the religious polemic, which most likely had been a nail
in the coffin of the deceased, [was] not touched upon at all.” Nonetheless,
there was sensation in the air, and no sooner had Peter Christian returned
home from the funeral than the always overzealous book dealer A.C.D.F.G.
Iversen (not to be confused with A.B.C.D.E.F. Goodhope!) contacted him
with a request to publish his eulogy, for—as the book dealer unctuously
uttered—“this wish has been expressed by so many people who have been
here in the bookshop today.”
After the ceremony at the Church of Our Lady, the hearse drove out to
Assistens Cemetery. People were busy, so no one noticed Martensen up