Then I beheld a wondrous thing. I saw a strange banner descending as if from the clouds, over against the hills upon which the priests were calling upon God for victory. It was crimson red, and in it was a great white cross, even the one upon which our Lord was crucified for the sins of the whole world. And a loud voice cried, “Bear this high, and victory shall be yours.” And the heathen saw and heard and were stricken with fear; for now they knew, indeed, that they were fighting the Lord God of Hosts, and that their strength was as a broken reed. And as the ensign fell among the battling hordes I saw a tall knight who rode before the King seize it and, holding it high, spur his horse into the bravest of the fight, with the cry “For God and the King.”
“For God and the King.”
And I saw the King’s men take heart and the heathen turn and flee from the shore that was strewn with their slain, while the sea ran red with blood. And the King and his men rested their swords and knelt upon the battlefield as the moon rose over it, and sang a Te Deum to their God for having delivered them and crushed the power of the Evil One; for of the Fiend and of his idols there was an end in the land, then and forevermore. And I knew that I had seen in my dream the battle of Lyndanissa that won all Esthland for the Christians’ God by King Valdemar’s sword, and gave to Denmark its Dannebrog, oldest of flags among nations.
“The King and his men knelt upon the battlefield.”
Once more did darkness fall, and I saw the old King betrayed by night in his tent, in the midst of peace, by his guest, the Black Count Henrik of Schwerin, who hated him, and, with Dagmar’s son, brought, bound and gagged, “in great haste and fear,” to the traitor’s strong tower on the Elbe. I saw them lying in chains, thirty moons and more in the dark dungeons, while Denmark’s foes rose on every side and overwhelmed its armies that had lost hope with their leader. I saw the old marshal, the King’s kinsman and friend, brought wounded and chained to his cell after the battle; and the aged King bowed his head while his enemies mocked him. And I saw the prince with Dagmar’s blue eyes and fair locks comfort him in his sorrow and defeat. And then I saw the Danish women, matron and maid, in the proud castle and in the peasant’s hut, bring their gold and their gems, their rings and their jewels and their silver, for their King’s ransom; and once more the Old Town echoed with cries of gladness and joy as when Dagmar came; but this time he rode alone, and stricken and sore.
Danish Women ransomed their King.
