Denmark | Page 8

real danger. But should danger ever come, then Holger Danske will rouse himself, and the table will burst asunder as he draws out his beard. Then he will come forth in all his strength, and strike a blow that shall sound in all the countries of the world."
Holger Danske was the son of the Danish King Gotrick. While he was a youth his father sent him to Carolus Magnus, whom he served during all his wars. Thus he came to India, where he ate a fruit which made his body imperishable. When Denmark is near ruin, and all her young men have been slain in defending her, then Holger Danske will appear, and, gathering round him all the young boys and aged men, will lead them on to victory, routing the enemy, and thus saving the country. When a little plant growing in the Lake of Viborg has become a tree, so large that you can tie your horse to it, then the time draws near when all this will happen.
Once upon a time the Danes were in great trouble, for they had no King. But one day they saw a barque, splendidly decked, sailing towards the coast of Denmark. As the ship came nearer the shore they saw it was laden with quantities of gold and weapons, but not a soul was to be seen on board. When the Danes boarded the ship, they found a little boy lying asleep on the deck, and above his head floated a golden banner. Thinking that their god Odin had sent the boy, they brought him ashore and proclaimed him King. They named him Skjold, and he became a great and good King. His fame was such that the Danish Kings to this day are called "Skjoldunger." When this King died, his body was placed on board a ship which was loaded with treasure; and when it sailed slowly away over the blue water, the Danes stood on the shore looking after it with sorrow. What became of the ship no one ever knew.
Denmark is rich in legends. There is the legend about the "Danebrog," Denmark's national flag, which is a white cross on a crimson ground. This bright and beautiful flag looks thoroughly at home whatever its surroundings. The story goes that when Valdemar Seir (the Victorious) descended on the shores of Esthonia to help the knights who were hard pressed in a battle with the heathen Esthonians (1219), a miracle befell him. The valour of his troops soon made an impression on the pagans, and they began to sue for peace. It was granted, and the priests baptized the supposed converts. Very soon, however, the Esthonians, who had been secretly reinforcing while pretending submission, in order to throw dust in the eyes of the too confiding Danes, brought up their forces and commenced fighting anew. "It was the eve of St. Vitus, and the Danes were singing Vespers in camp, when suddenly a wild howl rang through the summer evening, and the heathens poured out of the woods, attacked the surprised Danes on all sides, and quickly thinned their ranks. The Danes began to waver, but the Prince of Rugen, who was stationed on the hill, had time to rally his followers and stay the progress of the enemy. It was a terrible battle. The Archbishop Andreas Sunesen with his priests mounted the hill to lay the sword of prayer in the scales of battle; the Danes rallied, and their swords were not blunt when they turned upon their enemies. Whilst the Archbishop and others prayed, the Danes were triumphant; but when his arms fell to his side through sheer weariness, the heathens prevailed. Then the priests supported the aged man's arms, who, like Moses of old, supplicated for his people with extended hands. The battle was still raging, and the banner of the Danes had been lost in the fight. As the prayers continued the miracle happened. A red banner, with the Holy Cross in white upon it, came floating gently down from the heavens, and a voice was heard saying, 'When this sign is borne on high you shall conquer.' The tide of battle turned, the Christians gathered themselves together under the banner of the Cross, and the heathens were filled with fear and fled. Then the Danes knelt down on the battle-field and praised God, while King Valdemar drew his sword, and for the first time under the folds of the Danebrog dubbed five-and-thirty of the bravest heroes knights." Another legend tells the fate of a wicked Queen of Denmark, Gunhild by name. This Queen was first the consort of a Norwegian monarch, who, finding her more than he or his people could stand, thrust her out of his kingdom. She made her way to Denmark, and