least detail, regarding the arrangement of the family burial plot and the
future placement of the white marble tablets: “The upright little column
(bearing the text about Father’s first wife) is to be removed. The little fence
behind it is to be closed. The little fence is to be put into good condition.
Just inside the fence, where the little column stood, is to be placed a carved
gravestone with a marble cross. The words that formerly were on the little
column will be put on this gravestone. Leaning against this gravestone will
be placed the tablet with Father’s and Mother’s names and the rest; of course
it was Father who decided the wording. Then another tablet, matching the
previously mentioned tablet, is to be made, and on it is be written what is
now written on the large flat stone (though with smaller letters, arranged
so that more space will be left) that is lying on top of the grave—the large
stone is to be removed altogether. This tablet should also lean against the
gravestone. The entire grave site is then to be leveled and sown with a fine
species of low grass, but the four corners will each have a little spot of
exposed earth, and in each such corner there should be planted a little bush
of Turkish roses, as I believe they are called, some very tiny, dark red ones.
On the tablet (the one on which is to be written what had been written on
the large flat stone, specifically the names of my late sister and brother) there
will thus be plenty of room, so that my name can also be placed there:
Søren Aabye, born May 5, 1813, died —and then there will also be room for a little poem, which can be set in small
letters:
In a little while,
I shall have won,
The entire battle
Will at once be done.
Then I may rest
In halls of roses
And unceasingly,
And unceasingly
Speak with my Jesus.”There was a terrible discrepancy between these elegant instructions and the
chaotic circumstances of the burial. Still more embarrassing, however, was
that almost twenty years would pass before anyone seriously began to do
anything about it. It is true that Barfod had only discovered Kierkegaard’s
decisions about the grave site in 1865, but nothing was done, and as late as
the summer of 1870, First Lieutenant August Wolff sent the following re-
quest to Bishop Kierkegaard: “The occasion for my writing you is to request
that you grant me permission to place a gravestone on your late brother’s