Kronborg

Listen first. Wind comes off the water here almost every day, and it carries salt, gull cries, and the low hum of ferries crossing the strait. Under your feet the ground is hard and packed. Ahead, pale sandstone walls rise above deep moats, and green copper roofs catch whatever light the northern sky allows. This is Kronborg, on the edge of Helsingør, and for centuries this exact spot decided who could pass between the North Sea and the Baltic.

Look out across the water. That coastline is not far away. It is Sweden, and the city of Helsingborg sits only about four kilometres from here. This is the narrowest point of the Øresund, the strait that links the Baltic to the wider ocean. Any ship sailing to or from the Baltic ports had to come through this channel. Whoever held this headland could watch every hull, every flag, and every cargo that went by.

In the early fifteenth century, the Danish king Eric of Pomerania understood this very well. He built a fortress here called Krogen, and around 1429 he introduced the Sound Dues. Every foreign ship passing the strait had to stop and pay a toll to the Danish crown. The guns on this point made the request hard to refuse. For more than four hundred years this toll brought enormous wealth to Denmark. It was finally abolished in 1857, after long pressure from other trading nations.

The castle you see today is not that medieval fortress. In the 1570s, King Frederik the Second began a grand rebuilding. He wanted more than a fort. He wanted a Renaissance palace that would show every passing captain the power and taste of the Danish king. He brought in master builders from the Netherlands, and the old walls disappeared inside a new and far more elegant structure. He also gave it a new name... Kronborg, the Crown Castle.

Walk closer and notice the stone. The facades are clad in light sandstone, imported at great cost, with carved window frames and decorated gables. From the water the castle looked like a jewel set on the coast. But the beauty was only one layer. Around it sit low, heavy earthworks, bastions, and moats, designed to absorb cannon fire. Frederik's palace was both a royal residence and a working gun platform, and the two roles sit side by side.

Then came disaster. In 1629 a fire swept through the castle and destroyed much of the interior. Frederik's grandson, King Christian the Fourth, paid for the rebuilding, and he restored the outer form with great care. But here is a detail many visitors miss. The chapel survived the fire. When you step inside it, you are seeing one of the parts of the castle that remains closest to Frederik's own time, with its carved wooden pews and painted woodwork.

The peace did not last. In 1658, during wars between Denmark and Sweden, Swedish forces besieged and captured Kronborg. They carried away many of its treasures, including art and fittings from the royal rooms. Denmark got the castle back, but much of that early splendour never returned. After this, the Danish army strengthened the defences, and for long periods the castle served more as a garrison and military base than as a royal home. Soldiers stayed here until the 1920s.

Now for the name most visitors carry in their heads before they arrive. In English, Helsingør is known as Elsinore. When William Shakespeare wrote Hamlet around the year 1600, he set his story of a grieving, doubting Danish prince in a castle at Elsinore. Whether Shakespeare ever saw Kronborg himself is not known. But English actors are recorded performing at the Danish court in the 1580s, so stories about this castle could easily have reached London.

Here is a second surprise. Hamlet is not only remembered here. It is performed here. In 1816, on the two hundredth anniversary of Shakespeare's death, soldiers from the garrison staged scenes from the play inside the castle. Since then, actors from many countries have performed Hamlet in these courtyards and halls. On summer evenings, you may still hear the prince's lines echo off the sandstone walls, with the sea wind pulling at the costumes.

Inside, make your way to the great ballroom. It is a long, wide hall, and it is one of the largest of its kind in northern Europe. Frederik the Second hosted lavish banquets here. Trumpets and kettledrums were sounded as the king raised his glass, and the noise could be heard far across the water. He also commissioned a series of large tapestries showing the kings of Denmark. Some of these tapestries survive, and a number of them hang in the castle today.

Before you leave, go down into the casemates. These are the dark stone tunnels beneath the castle, where soldiers and supplies were kept, and the air turns cool and damp. In the gloom sits a large seated figure with a sword across his knees. This is Holger Danske, a legendary warrior. Legend has it that he sleeps beneath Kronborg, and that he will wake and rise when Denmark is in real danger. Children often touch the statue, half hoping he stirs.

In 2000, Kronborg was added to the UNESCO World Heritage List. The listing recognises its Renaissance architecture, and also its role in the story of the Sound Dues and northern European trade. Around the castle, the old shipyard area has found new life. Close by, the Maritime Museum of Denmark sits inside a former dry dock, below ground level, so the castle and the sea story are still told together on this small point of land.

As you walk back along the moats, turn around once more. Look at the copper towers against the sky, the ferries moving between two countries, the wind pressing the grass flat on the ramparts. Kings collected fortunes here, soldiers waited here, and a play gave this place a second life in the imagination of the world. The water keeps running through the strait, just as it did when the first ship lowered its sails and paid.