Hero Tales of the Far NorthRiis, Jacob A. (Jacob August)
History
Hero Tales of the Far North
Riis, Jacob A. (Jacob August)
Scandinavia -- History
In the twilight of the June evening the battle raged with great
fury. With the King at their head, who had led them to victory on
so many hard-fought fields, the Danes drove back their savage foes
time after time, literally hewing their way through their ranks
with sword and battle-axe. But they were hopelessly outnumbered.
Their hearts misgave them as they saw ten heathen spring out of the
ground for every one that was felled. The struggle grew fiercer as
night came on. The Christians were fighting for life; defeat meant
that they must perish to a man, by the sword or upon pagan altars;
escape there was none. Upon the cliff overlooking the battle-field
the archbishop and his priests were praying for success to the
King’s arms. Tradition that has been busy with this great battle
all through the ages tells how, while the aged bishop’s hands were
raised toward heaven, victory leaned to the Danes; but when he
grew tired, and let them fall, the heathen won forward, until the
priests held up his hands and once more the tide of battle rolled
back from the shore, and the Christian war-cry rose higher.
Suddenly, in the clash of steel upon steel and the wild tumult of
the conflict, there arose a great and wondering cry “the banner!
the banner! a miracle!” and Christian and pagan paused to listen.
Out of the sky, as it seemed, over against the hill upon which the
priests knelt, a blood-red banner with a great white cross was
seen falling into the ranks of the Christian knights, and a voice
resounded over the battle-field, “Bear this high, and victory
shall be yours.” With the exultant cry, “For God and the King,”
the crusaders seized it, and charged the foe. Terror-stricken,
the Esthlanders wavered, then turned, and fled. The battle became
a massacre. Thousands were slain. The chronicles say that the
dead lay piled fathom-high on the field that ran red with blood.
Upon it, when the pursuit was over, Valdemar knelt with his men,
and they bowed their heads in thanksgiving, while the venerable
archbishop gave praise to God for the victory.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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