a sign of hope, a sign of God's wrath against Germans,—and of victory for the knights of Poland.
The whole army greeted the banner with a shout of triumph; and they fell upon the Germans with such rage as if every regiment had come with double strength and twice as many warriors.
Now the Germans were attacked without mercy, without rest, without even such an interval as is needed to draw a single breath. They were pressed on all sides, cut unsparingly with blows of swords, scythes, axes, and maces; they began to totter and—withdraw.
Here and there were heard voices calling for quarter. Here or there fell out of action some foreign knight with face white from fear and astonishment, and he fled in frenzy whithersoever he was borne by his no less terrified steed. The majority of the white mantles, which brothers of the Order wore over their armor, were lying now on the field of battle.
Grievous alarm seized the hearts of the leaders of the Order, for they understood that their only salvation was in the Grand Master, who up to that time stood ready at the head of sixteen reserve regiments.
He, looking from above on the battle, understood also that the moment had come, and he moved his iron legions as a storm moves heavy waves, which bring ruin to ships on the sea.
But still earlier, on a raging steed appeared Zyndram before the third Polish line, which had not taken part yet in the conflict. Zyndram watched over everything and was mindful of the course of the battle. There, among the Polish infantry, were some companies of heavy Bohemian infantry. One of these had hesitated earlier before the engagement, but repentant in season it remained on the field, and, rejecting its leader, was flaming now with desire for battle, so as to redeem with its valor a moment of weakness. The main power, however, was made up of Polish regiments composed of cavalry, but unarmored, poor landholders, and of infantry from towns, and, more numerous than others, free land-tillers armed with pikes, heavy lances, and scythes point downward.
"Make ready! Make ready!!" shouted Zyndram, in his tremendous voice, as he flew along the ranks with lightning swiftness.
"Make ready!!" repeated the inferior leaders.
Understanding that the hour had come to them these men rested the handles of their spears, flails, and scythes on the
