Tordenskjold 
On a gray day in November, 1920, 
when the flags drooping from the win¬ 
dows in the shipping district of Christi¬ 
ania looked like great drops of blood in 
the leaden sky, the city paused for a few 
moments at noon to commemorate the 
two hundredth anniversary of Tor- 
denskj old's death. Crowds gathered in 
the square below the old fortress Aker- 
shus, where his statue stands looking out 
to sea; flags were planted around it by 
the seasoned sailors who led the proces¬ 
sion in his honor, and wreaths from 
King Haakon and many others were 
laid at the foot, while marine flyers cir¬ 
cled overhead. Celebrations were held 
also in Trondhjem, the city of his birth, 
and in Copenhagen, where his body lies 
buried, and everywhere the newspapers 
printed articles dwelling on the signifi¬ 
cance of Tordenskjold’s short, brilliant 
career. 
Tordenskjold was a reincarnation 
of an old Norwegian viking with a dash 
of the picturesque early eighteenth century cavalier. His exploits 
have been sung in folk ballads, and his sayings are household words to 
this day. But he was much more than a mere daredevil hero who 
loved hairbreadth escapes and humorous bravado. This madcap youth, 
this privateer who rose from cadet to vice-admiral in eight years and 
died at thirty, is now counted by sober historical judgment a strategist 
of rank, a leader of men by divine right, and a genius chosen by fate to 
save Norway and Denmark. 
When Charles XII after his glorious defeat in Russia turned his 
desperate followers toward the sister country in the west, it was 
Tordenskjold who stopped his advance and thereby preserved the 
freedom of Norway and the integrity of Denmark. Incidentally it 
was this final defeat that turned the Swedes back to the upbuilding of 
their own country, which had been laid waste during their long wars. 
Photo hy Wilse 
Monument in Tordenskjold Square, 
Christiania, by Axel Ender 
Note.—The above article was sent us by a staff correspondent who was in Christiania at the 
time of the Tordenskjold centennial. Lack of space has prevented its appearance earlier. Inas¬ 
much as the figure of Charles XII has lately been so vividly presented through Mr. Stork’s 
translation. The Charles Men, we believe this sketch of his Norwegian rival and counterpart— 
now that all jealousies have long been resting in the grave—may not be without interest even 
though the centennial is a year old.—The Editor. 
