monarch, making his strength felt by his great fleet and setting Norway
high among the nations of the north. He died at length in 1263, loved by
his people and respected by all outside his realm.
_KING VALDEMAR I. AND BISHOP ABSOLON._
The most brilliant period in the history of Denmark was that of the
reigns of the Valdemars, and especially of Valdemar I. and his sons,
whose names and memories are still cherished in that kingdom, the Danes
regarding them as the greatest and best monarchs they ever had.
There were wretched times in Denmark before 1157, when Valdemar came to
the throne, and his early years were passed in the midst of civil wars
and all kinds of sorrows and troubles. When the new king was crowned and
began the business of governing, he found little to govern with. There
were no money, no soldiers, no trade, no order in the kingdom, everything
being at so low an ebb that he found it necessary, as some writers state,
to secure support from Germany by recognizing the Emperor Frederick
Barbarossa as his suzerain and doing homage to him as a vassal in 1162.
But this ceremony did not entail upon him any of the usual duties of a
vassal, and was more of an ordinary alliance than a formal act of
submission.
Yet poor as was the state of Denmark when Valdemar came to it as king,
when he died he left it a flourishing, busy and peaceful country, to
which he had added great tracts of land on the pagan shores of the
Baltic, whose people he forced to give up their heathen practices.
During his reign Valdemar made as many as twenty expeditions against
these piratical peoples, gradually subduing them. At first, indeed, he
showed very little courage, and found so many reasons for turning back
before meeting the foe, that the sailors looked upon him as a coward, and
once he overheard one of them say with a laugh, that the king was "a
knight who wore his spurs upon his toes, only to help him to run away the
faster."
This made him very angry, but on speaking of it to his foster-brother,
Axel Hvide,--afterwards Bishop Absolon,--he found that the feeling that
he lacked the courage of a warrior was general. This contempt made him so
ashamed that from that time on he faced danger bravely and was never
again known to turn back from any risk.
Though Axel became a bishop, he had begun life as a soldier and was
throughout life bold and daring, a man who loved nothing better than to
command a ship or to lead his men in an assault against some fierce band
of sea robbers. From his castle Axelborg, on the site of the later city
of Copenhagen, he kept a keen lookout for these pirates and sought
manfully to put an end to their plundering raids.
The war against the Baltic heathens continued until 1168, when it ended
in the capture of the town of Arcona, on the island of Rygen, and the
destruction of the great temple of the Slavic god Svanteveit, whose
monstrous four-headed image was torn down from its pedestal and burned in
the presence of its dismayed worshippers.
The taking of this temple is an event of much interest, for it was due to
the shrewdness of a young Danish soldier, who circumvented the heathens
by a clever stratagem.
While the army lay encamped on the island beach, below the town of
Arcona, this man noticed that the high cliffs on which the temple was
built were honeycombed by many deep holes, which could not be seen from
the ramparts above, but were quite visible from the beach below. One day
it occurred to him that by making use of these holes he could roast the
pagan worshippers out of their nests, and he arranged with some of his
fellows to carry out his plan.
Gathering such dry straw and small sticks as they could collect, the
soldiers pretended to be playing at a game of pitch and toss, which if
seen by the sentinels on the ramparts above would not seem suspicious to
them. In this way they caused much of the straw and sticks to lodge in
the holes in the steep cliff. Then, by using spears and stones for a
ladder, one of them climbed for a distance up the steep rock wall and set
fire to some of the inflammable rubbish in the holes.
The effect was stupendous. The flames spread from hole to hole, creeping
up the face of the rock until the wooden spikes and palings at its
summit were in a blaze. This took place unseen by the pagans, who first
took the alarm when they saw flames circling round the great mast from
which floated the banner of their god.
Before they could take any steps to extinguish the flames, and while they
stood in a panic of apprehension, the Danes, headed by Bishop Absolon,
rushed to the assault and succeeded in taking the town.
There was nothing left for them but to accept baptism, on which their
lives depended, and the worthy bishop and his monks were kept busy at
this work for the next two days and nights, the bishop desisting only
when, half blind from want of sleep, he dropped down before the altar
that had been set up beside the fonts, where the converts were received
and signed with the cross.
The work of baptism done, King Valdemar caused the huge wooden idol of
the god to be dragged amid martial music to the open plain beyond the
town, where the army servants chopped it up into firewood. In this work
the new converts could not be induced to take part, for, Christians as
yet only in name, they feared some dread revenge from the great
Svanteveit, such as lightning from heaven to destroy the Danes.
The Christians of that age were quite as superstitious, for they declared
that when the image was being carried out of the temple gates, a horrible
monster, spitting fire and brimstone, burst from the roof and leaped with
howls of wrath into the sea below, which opened to receive it, and
closed over its head with billows of smoke and flame.
Valdemar died in 1182, after making such friends of his people and doing
so much for them, that when the funeral procession, headed by Bishop
Absolon, drew near the church of Ringsted, where the burial was to take
place, it was met by a throng of peasants, weeping and lamenting, who
begged the privilege of carrying the body of their beloved king to his
last resting place.
When the bishop began to read the service for the dead his voice failed
him and he wept and trembled so much that he had to be held up by some of
the assistant monks. After all was over the people went away in deep
grief, saying that Denmark's shield and the pagans' scourge had been
taken from them and that the country would soon be overrun again by the
heathen Wends.
But Absolon kept a firm hand upon the reins of state, and when the young
Prince Knud, Valdemar's son, was proclaimed king at the age of twenty
everything was in order. Knud proved as good and gallant as his father,
holding Denmark bravely against all foes, and when the Emperor Barbarossa
sent to him to appear before the imperial court at Ratisbon and do homage
for his crown, he returned a defiant answer.
The position of Denmark had greatly changed since Valdemar had obeyed
such a summons, and when the envoy of the emperor brought him the
imperial command, he sent back the following proud reply:
"Tell your master that I am as much monarch in my own realm as the kaiser
is in his, and if he has a fancy for giving away my throne, he had better
first find the prince bold enough to come and take it from me."
This ended all question of the vassalage of Denmark, but the emperor
never forgot nor forgave the insult and took every opportunity in after
years to stir up strife against Denmark. In 1184 he incited the pagan
princes of Pomerania to invade the Danish islands with a fleet of five
hundred ships. But they had old Bishop Absolon to deal with, and they
were so utterly routed that when the fog, which had enabled the Danes to
approach them unseen, cleared away, only thirty-five of their ships were
able to keep the sea.
This victory made Knud ruler over all Pomerania and part of the kingdom
later known as Prussia, and he added to his title that of "King of the
Wends and other Slavs." He went on adding to his home kingdom until the
dominion of Denmark grew very wide.
That is all we need say about King Knud, but it must be said of Bishop
Absolon that he was a wise patron of knightly arts and historical
learning and encouraged the great scholar Saxo Grammaticus to write his
famous "History of Denmark," in which were gathered all the old Danish
tales that could be learned from the skalds and poets and found in the
monasteries of the age. Absolon, who had loved and cared for the princes
Knud and Valdemar since their childhood, died in the year 1201 and King
Knud followed him a few years later, leaving the throne to his brother
Valdemar.
_THE FORTUNES AND MISFORTUNES OF VALDEMAR II._
Prosperous and glorious was the kingdom of Denmark under Valdemar II. in
the early part of his reign, though misery was his lot during many years
of his life. By his victories he won the title of "Sejr," or "the
conqueror," and his skill and goodness as a ruler won him the love of his
people, while the Danes of to-day look upon him as one of the best and
noblest of their kings. He was long regarded by them as the perfect model
of a noble knight and royal hero, and his first queen, Margrete of
Bohemia, was called by the people "Dagmar," or "Day's Maiden," from their
admiration of her gentleness and beauty. In many of their national songs
she is represented as a fair, fragile, golden-haired princess, mild and
pure as a saint, the only sin she could think of to confess on her
death-bed being that she had put on her best dress and plaited her hair
with bright ribbons before going to mass. While the Danes thus regard the
memory of Queen Dagmar, they have no words too bad to use in speaking of
Valdemar's second queen, the black-haired Berangaria, whose name became
with them a by-word for a vile woman.
But Valdemar's tale is largely one of sorrow and suffering and rarely has
monarch had to bear so cruel a fate as was his during many unhappy years
of his life.
Valdemar was the son of Valdemar I., and brother of King Knud, for whom
as a prince he fought bravely, putting down the Sleswick rebels, who had
been stirred to rebellion by the German emperor, and conquering his
enemy, Count Adolf of Holstein. Succeeding his brother Knud in 1202, his
first exploit was the conquest of Pomerania, which Knud had won before
him. This was now added to the Danish dominions, and in 1217 the German
emperor of that date granted to him and the future kings of Denmark all
the territories north of the Elbe and the Elde. Thus 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 awaited him. He had made enemies among the German
princes, and they conspired against him, but they were forced to submit
to his rule. Some of those whose lands he had seized did not hesitate to
express openly their hatred for him; but others, while secretly plotting
against him, pretended to be his friends, shared in his wars and his
courtly ceremonies, and were glad to accept favors from his hands.
One of those who hated him most bitterly, yet who seemed most attached to
him, was the Count-Duke of Schwerin, a man who, alike from his dark
complexion and his evil disposition, was known in his own country as
"Black Henry." The king had often been warned to beware of this man, but,
frank and open by nature and slow to suspect guile, he disregarded these
warnings and went on treating him as a trusty friend.
This enabled Count Henry to make himself familiar with Valdemar's habits
and mode of life. He secretly aided certain traitors who cherished evil
designs against the king; but when he found that all these plots failed
he devised one of his own which the king's trust in him aided him in
carrying out.
In the spring of the year 1233 Valdemar invited his seeming friend to a
two days' hunt which he proposed to enjoy in the woods of Lyö, but the
count sent word that he regretted his inability to join him, as he had
been hurt by a fall and could not leave his bed.
His bed just then was his horse's saddle. The opportunity which he
awaited had come, and he spent the night scouring the country in search
of aid for the plot he had in view, which was no less than to seize and
hold prisoner his trusting royal friend. He knew the island well, and
when his spies told him that the king and his son Valdemar had landed at
Lyö with a small following of huntsmen and servants, Black Henry prepared
to carry out his plot.
The king's first day's hunt was a hard one and he and his son slept
soundly that night in the rude hut that had been put up for their use. No
one thought of any need of guarding it and the few attendants of the king
were scattered about, sleeping under the shelter of rocks and trees.
Late that night Count Henry and his men landed and made their way
silently and cautiously through the tired sleepers to the royal hut,
which he well knew where to find. Quietly entering, they deftly gagged
the king and prince before they could awake, and before either of them
could raise a hand in resistance sacks of wool and straw were drawn over
their heads, so closely as nearly to choke them, and strong bonds were
tied round their legs and arms.
Thus thoroughly disabled, the strong king and his youthful son were
carried through the midst of their own people to the strand and laid
helplessly in the bottom of the waiting boat, which was rowed away with
muffled oars, gliding across the narrow sound to the shore of Fyen. Here
waited a fast-sailing yacht to which the captives were transferred, sail
being set before a favoring wind for the German coast.
The next morning, when the king's attendants were searching for the
missing king, he and his son, still bound and gagged, were landed on a
lonely part of the sea-shore, placed on awaiting horses, and tightly
secured to the saddles, after which they were hurried on at full gallop,
stopping only at intervals to change the armed escort, until the castle
of Danneberg, in Hanover, was reached.
This castle had been loaned by its owner to Count Henry, he having no
stronghold of his own deemed secure enough to hold such important
captives. So roughly had they been treated that when the bonds were
removed from Prince Valdemar, who resembled his mother Dagmar alike in
his beauty and her feebleness, the blood flowed from every part of his
body. Yet, without regard to his youth and sufferings, the cruel captor
shut up him and his royal father in a cold and dark dungeon, where they
were left without a change of clothing and fed on the poorest and
coarsest food.
This, many might say, was a just retribution on King Valdemar, for years
before, when as a prince he had put down the rebellion in Sleswick, he
had seized its chief leader, his namesake Bishop Valdemar, and kept him
for many years in chains and close confinement in the dungeon of Söborg
Castle, and had later subjected Count Adolf of Holstein to the same fate.
Bishop Valdemar had been released after fourteen years' imprisonment at
the entreaty of Queen Dagmar, and was ever after one of the most bitter
enemies of the Danish king.
But though a bishop and count might be thus held captive, it is difficult
to conceive of a powerful monarch being kept prisoner by a minor noble
for three long years, despite all that could be done for his release.
Nothing could give a clearer idea of the lawless state of those times.
King Valdemar and his son lay wearing the bonds of felons and suffering
from cold and hunger while the emperor and the Pope sought in vain for
their release, threatening Black Henry with all the penalties decreed by
empire and church for those who raised their hands against a prince.
The shrewd captor readily promised all that was asked of him. He would
release his captives without delay. Yet he had no intention to keep his
word, for he knew that Rome and Ratisbon were too far from Danneberg to
give him serious cause for alarm, especially as the other nobles of
northern Germany were prepared to help him in keeping their common enemy
in prison.
As for Denmark itself, the people were infuriated and eagerly demanded to
be led to the rescue of their beloved king; yet Valdemar's sons were
still young, all the kinsmen of the royal family had been banished or
were dead, and there was no one with the power and right to take control
of public affairs.
For some time, indeed, the fate of the king remained unknown to the
people. Valdemar's nephew Albert, Count of Orlamunde, was on his way to
Rome when the news of the king's capture reached him. He immediately
turned back, collected an army, and gave battle to the German princes who
were helping Count Henry to defend Danneberg. But his hasty levies were
defeated and he taken prisoner, to be thrown into the same dungeon as the
royal captive.
Finally King Valdemar, seeing no other hope of release, agreed to the
terms offered by Black Henry, which were that he should pay a ransom of
45,000 silver marks, give him all the jewels of the late Queen Berangaria
not already bestowed on churches and monasteries, and send him a hundred
men-at-arms, with horses and arms for their use. For assurance of this he
was to send his three younger sons to Danneberg to be kept in prison with
Count Albert until the money was paid.
These terms agreed to, the king and prince were set free. Valdemar at
once hastened to Denmark, which he found in a fearful state from its
having been three years without a head. Humbled and crushed in spirit,
finding all his dominions in Germany set free from their allegiance and
all the kingdoms won by his valor lost to Denmark, he scarcely knew what
steps to take. The ransom demanded he was unable to pay and he grieved at
the thought of subjecting his young sons to the fate from which he had
escaped. In his misery he wrote to the Pope, asking to be released from
the oath which had been exacted from him to let his children go into
captivity.
The Pope, full of pity for him, sent a bishop to Count Henry, telling him
that if he tried to enforce the demand exacted under durance from the
king of Denmark, he should be deprived of the services of religion and be
heavily fined by the papal power for his cruel and unrighteous act. Thus
called to account for his treachery and wickedness, Black Henry was
forced to forego the final cruel exaction of his traitor soul.
Misfortune, however, pursued Valdemar. When in 1227 the peasants of
Ditmarsh refused to pay the tribute they had long paid the Danish crown,
the insult to his weakness was more than the king could endure. He
marched an army into their lands, but only to find himself defeated and
four thousand of his men killed by the rebels, who were strongly aided by
the German princes of Holstein, and especially by Count Adolf, his former
captive. He himself was wounded in the eye by an arrow which struck him
to the ground, and would have been captured a second time but for the aid
of a friendly German knight.
This foeman had been formerly in Valdemar's service, and when he saw his
old royal master helpless and bleeding, he lifted him to his saddle and
carried him to Kiel, where his wounds were healed, means being then found
to send him back to his kingdom.
Valdemar remained on the throne for fourteen years afterwards, but these
were years of peace. War no longer had charms for him and he devoted
himself to the duties of government and to preparing codes of law for the
provinces of his kingdom. In that age there were no general laws for the
whole country.
The laws of Valdemar continued in force for four hundred and fifty years,
and in 1687, when Christian V. framed a new code of laws, some of the old
ones of Valdemar were retained. In them the old custom of the ordeal was
set aside, being replaced by the system of the jury, one form of which
consisted of "eight good men and true" chosen by the king, and another of
twelve men chosen by the people. The laws were lenient, for most crimes
could be atoned for by money or other fines. Three days after the last of
these codes was approved Valdemar died, at the age of seventy-one,
leaving three sons all of whom in turn ruled after him. His son Valdemar,
who shared his imprisonment, had died long before.
_BIRGER JARL AND THE CONQUEST OF FINLAND._
Birger Jarl, who became one of the great men of Sweden about 1250, rose
to such importance in the early history of that kingdom that one cannot
pass him by without saying something about his career. Sweden was then a
Christian kingdom and had been for many years, for the religion of Christ
had been preached there, as the sagas tell, four centuries earlier. But
heathenism prevailed until long afterwards, and it was not until the days
of King Stenkil, who came to the throne in 1061, that an earnest effort
was made to introduce the Christian worship. Finally paganism completely
died out, and when Birger came to the throne Sweden had long been a
Christian realm.
But paganism still had a stronghold in Finland, and when Bishop Thomas, a
zealous churchman, of English birth, proclaimed that the Christians
should have no intercourse with the pagans in Finland or even sell them
food, the Finlanders became so incensed that they invaded the Christian
country and put the people to death with frightful tortures. Their
cruelties created terror everywhere and Bishop Thomas fled to Gothland
where, crazed with horror at the result of his proclamation, he soon
died.