Emboldened by this success, Christina now sent a messenger among the peasantry to collect a force with which to attack the Danish army in Upsala. In a short space of time he had gathered a strong band of peasantry and miners, with whom, reinforced by a detachment from Stockholm, he marched forward to Upsala. As the patriots approached the town, a squad stationed by Krumpen outside the walls descried them and sounded the alarm. This was on Good Friday, April 6, 1520, and Krumpen was in the cathedral when the news arrived. Without delay he hurried forth and gave orders that every man, both horse and foot, should gird on his armor and assemble in the square. As soon as they had come together, he led them outside the town and drew up his line of battle close beneath the walls. In front of this line he formed a solid phalanx, with a wing on either side composed of horse and foot. Still farther ahead he placed his catapults, with the largest of which he opened fire first, the sharpshooters at the same time picking off the enemy. The sky was heavily overcast, and at the very beginning of the battle a driving storm with rain and sleet came beating down in the faces of the Danes, thus blinding them. Their cavalry, too, was almost useless; for the ground was covered with melting snow, which formed in great cakes under the horses' hoofs, and soon sent horses and riders sprawling on the ground. The patriots, however, being without cavalry or muskets, suffered little from the rain. They were not slow to take advantage of the opportunity thus afforded them, and pressed forward madly on the left wing until finally it began to yield. The standard-bearer, half frozen, was about to drop the standard, when a Danish veteran rushed forward, seized it from his hands, and fixed it in the nearest fence, at the same time shouting: "Forward, my men! Remember your own and your fathers' valor! Shall this standard of your country fall unstained into the hands of the enemy?" At these words the company rallied and, hacking at the hands of the patriots who strove to pluck the standard from the fence, compelled them to withdraw. This company then joined the others, and a long and bitter conflict followed, the two armies fighting face to face. At length, as soon as the snow began to be well packed, the Danish cavalry came to the front once more, and after a series of violent charges, broke in two places through the enemy's ranks. The patriots, now cut into three distinct bodies, fled in wild despair. One body of them was surrounded and massacred on the spot. Another fled to a brick-kiln near at hand, hoping thus to be sheltered from the fury of the Danes. But they were pursued, the whole place was set on fire, and all who issued from it were put to the sword. The third portion of the Swedes fled in terror to the river, but many of them weighted down by their arms were drowned. Thus ended a fearful battle. The snow was literally drenched with blood. Of the Swedes, who numbered