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Nor is their story always of peace. Here was Knud Lavard slain by his envious kinsman for the crown, and a miraculous spring gushed forth where he fell. Of the church they built for the pilgrims who sought it from afar they will show you the site, but the spring dried up with the simple old faith. Yonder, under the roof of Ringsted church, lie Denmark's greatest dead.
Saxo draws a touching picture of him weeping bitterly as he said the requiem mass over his friend, and observes: "Who can doubt that his tears, rising with the incense, gave forth a peculiar and agreeable savour in high heaven before God?" The plowmen left their fields and carried the bier, with sobs and lamentations, to the church in Ringsted, where the great King rests.
Both these celebrated men also lie in the old church, which Ingeborg felt was a fitting resting-place for the noble dead. On the advice of Hans, Herr Nielsen took his young grand-daughter to see the old convent church of Ringsted. Here many Danish Kings were buried in the twelfth, thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. The interesting Romanesque Church of Kallundborg was also visited.
With dragon speed, and dragon noise, fire, smoke, and fury, the train dashed along its road through beautiful meadows, garnished here and there with pollard sallows; over pretty streams, whose waters stole along imperceptibly; by venerable old churches, which I vowed I would take the first opportunity of visiting: stopping now and then to recruit its energies at places, whose old Anglo-Saxon names stared me in the eyes from station boards, as specimens of which, let me only dot down Willy Thorpe, Ringsted, and Yrthling Boro.
Her father was, as we have seen, Waldemar Atterdag, her mother Queen Hedevig, and she became queen of Denmark and Norway in 1387. She was no sooner elected queen of Denmark, and homaged on the hill of Sliparehog, near Lund, in Ringsted, Odensee, and Wiborg, than she sailed to Norway to receive their homage. But a remarkable occurrence is mentioned by historians as occurring about this time.
So, of all Valdemar's four sons, not one died a peaceful, natural death. But kings they all were. Valdemar was laid in Ringsted with his great father. He sleeps between his two queens. Dagmar's grave was disturbed in the late middle ages by unknown vandals, and the remains of Denmark's best-loved queen were scattered.
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.
"That is a compliment which I cannot accept," returned Otto, smiling. "Yet, perhaps, I might resemble her." It was not yet three o'clock when the friends reached Ringsted. "I have never before been so far in Zealand," said Otto. "Shall I be your guide?" returned Wilhelm. "Ringsted has a street and an inn, and one is very badly served there, as you will soon both see and experience yourself.
Every ninth year the sacrifices were on a larger scale than usual, consisting then of ninety-nine horses, dogs, and cocks human beings were also sometimes offered. When Christianity was established in Denmark the seat of royalty was transferred to Roeskilde, and Leiré fell into total insignificance. It is now merely a village in Zealand. Now come we to Sigersted, near Ringsted.
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