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.

That is the story of the Dannebrog which has been the flag of the
Danes seven hundred years. Whether the archbishop had brought it
with him intending to present it to King Valdemar, and threw it down
among the fighting hordes in the moment of extreme peril, or
whether, as some think, the Pope himself had sent it to the
crusaders with a happy inspiration, the fact remains that it came to
the Danes in this great battle, and on the very day which, fifty
years before, had seen the fall of Arcona, and the end of
idol-worship among the western Slavs. Three hundred years the
standard flew over the Danes fighting on land and sea. Then it was
lost in a campaign against the Holstein counts and, when recovered
half a century later, was hung up in the cathedral at Slesvig,
where gradually it fel