"Ghosts and devilry!" exclaimed one of the lay brothers. "Read, reverend sir, read!"

The dean, who now also became alarmed, halted, and gazing towards the mound, on which the fatal wheels were distinctly visible, saw a female form, holding in her hand a torch, the light of which, falling full on her countenance, revealed an expression of the deepest grief, united with so much calmness, that she resembled a Niobe in marble; whilst a number of clumsy-looking fellows, in the garb of seamen, were quietly but hastily engaged in releasing the bodies of the two malefactors.

This being accomplished, they deposited them in coffins, and, forming themselves into a procession, left the mound, bearing the two corses in their midst. The grave female figure preceded them with the torch; and the dean, who, with his subordinates, had not stirred, now perceived that she wore the scarlet mantle of a princess, or of the lady of some knight of eminence.

The funeral train took the road to the fiord, approaching close to where the dean was standing; but the calm, melancholy features of the lady remained unchanged, nor did the others who composed the procession seem at all concerned at the presence of the ecclesiastic and his a.s.sistants. The latter, folding their hands, remained in silent prayer; while, as the train pa.s.sed by, and the holy pix glittered in the torchlight, the grave seamen bowed their heads, and the knight's lady knelt down, while tears streamed along her pale cheeks.

As if moved by sympathy, the dean, accompanied by the choristers, then commenced singing, in a deep clear voice, a holy vigil for the dead men's souls; which they continued until the whole procession had pa.s.sed. The mourners soon disappeared at the fiord, whence, shortly afterwards, a vessel departed under full sail.

After the death of the marsk, Duke Waldemar had openly allied himself with the brave Norwegian king, and had sent to the young Danish monarch, and his mother the queen, a declaration of war, grounded on the demands which he himself, and his brother Prince Erik, advanced for the possessions of Svendborg and Langeland. The duke and the Norwegian had agreed to commence the war with their united fleets and armies; but the impatience of the duke would not allow him to wait the arrival of the Norse fleet; and he ran out boldly with his own, which he conducted into Gronsund, between Falster and Moen.

Sir John and the council resolved to take advantage of this imprudent step, and immediately issued orders to man a number of long-ships and cutters, for the purpose of attacking the duke. This fleet, with young King Erik himself on board the long-ship Old Waldemar, early one morning ran out of Issefiord, and proceeded through the Great Belt to Gronsund, where the vessels of the duke had come to anchor on the Falster coast. Sir John and the chancellor were on board the king's ship, together with the royal trabants, and a numerous body of knights, who, in full armour, only knew each other by their helmet jewels and armorial bearings.

Close to the king's vessel followed Count Gerhard, in his own long-ship, accompanied by a few sloops from Kiel, manned by brave Holsteiners. Thorstenson himself commanded one of the largest long-ships, and, in conjunction with Sir John, directed the movements of the whole fleet.

The commanders still pursued the ancient Danish mode of attacking a hostile fleet, seeking to break the position of the enemy by a vigorous and combined movement, and, by coming as soon as possible to close quarters, to allow the fate of the engagement to be decided, as in land battles, by numbers and personal courage. To this end, they immediately ordered the whole royal fleet to form in order of battle under the coast of Moen, and opposite the duke, bringing all the ships together in a single compact line, in the centre of which was the royal vessel, from whence the position of both fleets, which were nearly of equal force, could be easily seen. The duke, however, put only his largest long-ships into line, and these he brought into an advanced position; whilst he allowed the lighter and smaller sloops and cutters to remain behind, with sails unbent, close under the coast of Falster.

In all the vessels of the king's fleet, the awning was then taken down which served to protect the deck from the inclemency of the weather. On the p.o.o.p of the Old Waldemar, surrounded by the most valiant of the royal knights, himself the tallest and strongest amongst them, stood the standard-bearer, holding aloft the royal banner--the dark parti-coloured standard of the murdered king, with its numerous keys, wheels, and other remarkable symbols. The hold was filled with the common soldiers, who, besides sword and javelin, were armed with bows and slings, while a portion of them had the superintendence of the heavy war-machines; and at the stern, having the command of the whole vessel, stood the steersman, whose office, in the king's ship, was filled by old Sir John.

The young king, who, with the Chancellor Martinus, stood by his side, now exclaimed--

"Explain to me, Sir John, why the duke allows his sloops to lie detached behind the long-ships? Drost Peter, I remember, once informed me that Waldemar Seier and old King Waldemar did the same, when they had to deal with a stronger foe, and feared to hazard their whole force at once. But cannot the duke now surround us with his sloops, and fall upon our rear?"

"We will not give him time for that," replied Sir John. "When we have first saluted him at a distance, we will row rapidly forwards, working our slings and rams; and when we are once alongside of him, the engagement can be terminated sword in hand."

"The Almighty grant us victory!" exclaimed the chancellor. "Before you give the signal for battle, Sir John, we must permit our people to think of their souls, and to pray the Lord of victory to aid us."

"In G.o.d's name! But let it be soon and short, for there is little time to spare, and the Lord shields his own."

The chancellor then, accompanied by several ecclesiastics, began a war-hymn, in which all the soldiers and fighting-men joined; whilst many, including the young king, followed the example of the chancellor and clerks, and reverently bent the knee.

Scarcely was the solemn war-hymn ended, before the standard-bearer, at Sir John's order, gave the signal for battle by waving the royal flag three times over his head; and in a moment, although it was clear noon, the sky was darkened with the arrows and stones, projected simultaneously from every sling and bow on board the royal ships.

This attack was answered by a similar discharge of missiles from the duke's fleet, the foreign soldiers in which now sent forth their wild war-cries.

Sir John had ordered a shieldburg[45] to be formed around the young king and the clergymen, through which, however, many arrows pierced, while the stones and other missiles rattled on the bucklers with a frightful din. On the royal vessel there alighted such an enormous ma.s.s of stones, that it was evident the duke had concentrated his attack on it alone. A few men fell, and many were wounded; but the distance was still too great for these missiles to take much effect.

On board the king's ship, the standard-bearer now again waved the royal banner, and the entire fleet rowed rapidly forward, while the heavy engines of war were put in preparation. At the stern of the king's vessel was placed an immense prow-hog, which, with its spiked and sharp iron crest, broke into the centre of the duke's fleet, and, at the first blow, parted two long-ships, thus forcing the duke to fight his own vessel without aid from the others.

At the same instant, the sea-rams were vigorously worked. These consisted of heavy beams, cased in iron, which, suspended by chains from the masts, were swung with crushing effect against the enemies'

vessels. The duke possessed no such heavy machines; and it was soon apparent that the royalists had gained a considerable advantage in this first a.s.sault, great confusion having been produced in the enemies'

fleet, the line of which was already almost entirely broken.

It was, however, speedily evident that the lighter arms of the duke were not less dangerous. He seemed not yet desirous of boarding, but, with his light vessels, evaded the advancing line of heavy battle-ships; whilst, besides arrows, stones, and bolts, he continued to shower upon them great numbers of caltrops, and of fire-pots, filled with pitch, brimstone, and oil. The latter were set on fire with tow, and, as they fell, cast forth flames, which, seizing upon the sails and cordage, created great damage and confusion in the royal fleet.

The duke immediately availed himself of this to order an attack on its rear by his smaller vessels. When he heard, by the shouting, that this was in execution, and became sure that the royalists would have to fight in opposite directions and with divided strength he no longer avoided the attempt to board, but ran his own long-ship close up to that of the king.

Thorstenson, who had quickly perceived this cunning man[oe]uvre, commanded the cables by which the royal ships were bound together to be immediately cut asunder, in order that he might secure a more advantageous position; but the caltrops had produced so much disorder, and the fire-pots taken such effect, that the men were fully occupied in extinguishing the flames, and in defending themselves against the boarders, who now threatened them on both sides.

In this extremity young Erik, who stood by the side of the chancellor, with his sword in one hand and a javelin in the other, observed the duke near him, preparing to leap on board the blazing vessel. The sight of the duke enraged him. "'Twas an unchivalrous piece of cunning, Duke Waldemar!" he cried, at the same time dashing at him his javelin, which struck the feather of the duke's helmet, and carried away its jewel.

At this a shout of delight broke forth on board the king's ship, and, abandoning their efforts to extinguish the fire, the whole crew rushed forward, to repulse the duke's boarders.

"Be calm, brave countrymen!" shouted Sir John. "Let us first quench the fire, and then reckon with them for our house-warming!"

Both fire and attack raged most fiercely at the prow, and the standard-bearer, forced to defend himself, had been obliged to fix the banner in a plank by his side, where it was soon caught by the flames, and fell hissing into the water. This incident, while it raised a wild shout of joy on board the duke's fleet, greatly disheartened the royalists, who regarded it as an unlucky omen.

"My father's banner has fallen!" exclaimed the young king, in a tone of melancholy; "no good fortune attended it."

"That of your great ancestor was always victorious, my royal master!"

exclaimed the chancellor.

"But it, alas, lies in the duke's stronghold in Sleswick," sighed the king. "The Lord, however, can still aid us."

"His help is near when we call upon Him," replied the chancellor: "therefore be comforted, sir king!--But see you yonder fisherman, and in what he is engaged?"

While the king was gazing in the direction indicated by the chancellor, the duke saw with astonishment that the crews on board his vessels were slipping and reeling about like drunken men; and he now first perceived, running boldly to and fro among his fleet, a small fishing-boat, in which stood a tall man, in a black leathern mail, casting pots of soap on board the ships. On some of the vessels, too, fell pots of finely powdered lime, which blinded the fighting-men; while, to increase his dismay, some of the vessels began to fill and sink. In the midst of the terror and confusion thus occasioned, a daring black-haired swimmer was seen, with a large auger in his hand, diving here and there under the ships.

"Shoot the accursed fisherman! crash the swimmer's head!" furiously cried the duke. "Board--storm--all hands!"

The boarding soon became general. No one could any longer stand on the slippery deck of the duke's ship; and as the fire had fortunately been extinguished in that of the king, there then commenced a hot and serious conflict, in which the combatants fought man to man, and in which many fell on both sides. Thorstenson, in whose long-ship the battle also raged furiously, fought heroically, many falling by his hand. Count Gerhard, too, reaped laurels. His ship lay opposite to that of Duke Erik of Langeland, Duke Waldemar's brother, and generally known as Duke Longlegs. By the side of his master, in the equipments of a squire, stood the old jester, who, when the duke appeared on the point of boarding them, exclaimed--

"See! there comes my ill.u.s.trious namesake with the long legs! Hide your lady's veil, stern sir, that it may not be again torn!"

Count Gerhard, in the spirit of chivalry and as a defiance to Duke Waldemar, had attached the queen's veil to his breastplate; but, that he might not now lose it in the fray, he took the advice of his jester, and placed it under his mail.

"We shall not run now from hares or cats, stern sir," said the jester, while a roguish smile dispelled the gravity of his countenance.

But this remark touched his good-natured master in the tenderest point, by reminding him of an unfortunate encounter with the Ditmarshers, wherein his troops were really first thrown into disorder by a hare or cat.

"Now, by Satan! Longlegs, I shall strike thee dead!" cried the count, as he furiously brandished his sword.

"Spare your wrath for the proper Longlegs--see, here he is!" replied the jester, as he stepped back, and pointed towards the forecastle, where Duke Erik came storming onwards.

"The fiend take all the Longlegs!" shouted the count, as he rushed forward to the combat.

The royal ship continued to be closely pressed upon from every side.

Old Sir John had some trouble to protect the young king, who insisted on leaving the shieldburg to take part in the fray. The duke himself had struck down the standard-bearer, and, springing on board at the forecastle, he was now, backed by his bravest knights, fiercely engaged on the rowing-deck with the royal trabants. At every stroke he seemed to cut out for himself a path, by which he was advancing nearer to the king.

Sir John had placed himself in the narrow pa.s.sage that led from deck to deck, where with calm energy he defended the entrance to the p.o.o.p, where stood the king, between the chancellor and Squire Aage Jonsen, in front of the ecclesiastics. A vigorous stroke from the duke at length reached Sir John's helmet, which fell cloven from his gray head, while the old man himself sank bleeding between the rowing-benches.

At this sight the king sprang forward. "By all holy men!" he exclaimed, "that stroke you shall atone for with your blood, most treacherous duke!"

He became furious, and, shaking off all restraints, rushed forward, and had slightly wounded the duke, when, in his eagerness, he stumbled over a bench. The trabants, who had each an opponent to encounter, did not observe the imminent danger of the king; but his squire, Aage Jonsen, darting forward, now closed with the duke, while Chancellor Martinus placed himself, with his ma.s.s-book in his hand, between young Erik and the combatants. Soon, however, the youthful monarch stood again prepared for battle, but the chancellor restrained him. Squire Aage, unable to cope with the duke as a swordsman, and bleeding from many wounds, was already beginning to give way, when the chancellor, who had raised his hands and eyes towards heaven in supplication, suddenly exclaimed--

"Behold, behold! Danebrog, Danebrog! The Lord sends us victory--_hoc signo victoria!_"[46]

The joyful shout of "Danebrog! Danebrog!" was now raised by the royalists; and the duke, on looking up, perceived before him, on a rowing-bench, the well-known Danebrog flag, in the hands of a tall knight, clad in steel blue harness, and with open visor. It was Drost Peter, in whom, with mingled rage and fear, the duke recognised the blue knight of the tourney, and saw the well-known lion-hilted dagger gleaming in his uplifted right hand.