Valdemar was made
master of a great part of northern Germany and ruled over a wider
dominion to the south than any Danish king before or after.

His success in the south led him to attempt the conquest of the north,
and armies were sent to Norway and Sweden with the hope of winning these
kingdoms for the Danish crown. In this effort he failed, but in 1219 his
zeal for the Church and love of adventure led him to undertake a great
expedition, a crusade against the heathens of Esthonia.

Gathering an army of sixty thousand men and a fleet of fourteen hundred
ships, a mighty force even for the small craft of that day, he quickly
made himself master of that stronghold of paganism, great numbers of the
people consenting to be baptized. But here he found a new and unexpected
enemy and had to fight fiercely for the privilege of carrying the cross
of Christ to the heathen Esthonians.

His new enemies were the Knights of the Sword, of Livonia, who declared
that the duty of converting the pagans in that region belonged to them,
and that no other Christians had the right to interfere. And from this
ensued a war in which fierce battles were fought and much blood was shed,
for the purpose of deciding who should have the privilege of converting
the heathen. It is doubtful if ever before or since a war has been fought
for such a purpose, and the heathens themselves must have looked on with
grim satisfaction to see their enemies cutting each other's throats to
settle the question as to who had the best right to baptize them.

In one of the battles with the heathens, while Bishop Andreas, the
successor to Bishop Absolon, was praying on a high hill with uplifted
hands for victory, there suddenly fell down from heaven the Danneborg,
the national standard of Denmark. At least, that is what legend tells us
of its appearance.

It is held to be much more probable that this banner, bearing a white
cross on a blood-red field, was sent by the Pope to Valdemar as a token
of his favor and support, and that its sudden appearance, when the Danes
were beginning to waver before the pagan assaults, gave them the spirit
that led to victory. The result, in those days of superstition, naturally
gave rise to the legend.

When Valdemar returned a victor from Esthonia, having beaten alike the
pagans and the Livonian knights, and bearing with him the victorious
Danneborg, he was at the height of his glory, and none dreamed of the
terrible disaster that a