till his senses were in a whirl, could not help regarding the scene of
the festival in a romantic light, as he stood there alone, late at
night, surrounded by flaring torches, the fireworks sputtering and
glittering about him. Some few of the students sat in the fields round
flaming rings of pitch, an old Angel peasant keeping the fires alight
and singing Danish songs. Absolutely enraptured, and with tears in his
eyes, he went about shaking hands with the young men and thanking them
for coming. It was peculiarly solemn and beautiful.

Next day, when I got out at Egebaek station on my way from Flensborg,
intending to go to Idsted, it seemed that three other young men had had
the same idea, so we all four walked together. They were young men of a
type I had not met with before. The way they felt and spoke was new to
me. They all talked in a very affectionate manner, betrayed at once that
they worshipped one another, and seemed to have strong, open natures,
much resembling each other. They were Ernst Trier, Noerregaard, and
Baagoee, later the three well-known High School men.

The little band arrived at a quick pace on Idsted's beautiful heath, all
tufts of ling, the red blossoms of which looked lovely in the light of
the setting sun. We sat ourselves down on the hill where Baudissin and
his staff had stood. Then Baagoee read aloud Hammerich's description of
the battle of Idsted, while each of us in his mind's eye saw the
seething masses of troops advance and fall upon one another, as they had
done just ten years before.

Our time was short, if we wanted to get under a roof that night. At 9
o'clock we were still eight miles from Slesvig. We did the first four at
a pace that was novel to me. Three-parts of the way we covered in forty-
five minutes, the last two miles took us twenty. When we arrived at the