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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The First Christmas Tree, by Henry Van Dyke,
+Illustrated by Howard Pyle
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The First Christmas Tree
+       A Story of the Forest
+
+
+Author: Henry Van Dyke
+
+
+
+Release Date: June 25, 2005  [eBook #16134]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FIRST CHRISTMAS TREE***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Michael Gray (Lost_Gamer@comcast.net)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 16134-h.htm or 16134-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/1/3/16134/16134-h/16134-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/1/3/16134/16134-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+THE FIRST CHRISTMAS TREE
+
+A Story of the Forest
+
+by
+
+HENRY VAN DYKE
+
+Illustrated by Howard Pyle
+
+Charles Scribner's Sons
+New York
+University Press:
+John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A.
+
+MDCCCXCVII
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration--So they took the little fir from its place]
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+     I  The Call of the Woodsman
+
+    II  The Trail Through the Forest
+
+   III  The Shadow of the Thunder-Oak
+
+    IV  The Felling of the Tree
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+   Photogravures from Original Drawings by Howard Pyle.
+
+   So they took the little fir from its place . . . (Frontispiece)
+   The fields around lay bare to the moon . . .
+   The sacred hammer of the God Thor . . .
+   Then Winfried told the story of Bethlehem . . .
+
+
+
+I
+THE CALL OF THE WOODSMAN
+
+
+I
+
+The day before Christmas, in the year of our Lord 722.
+
+Broad snow-meadows glistening white along the banks of the river
+Moselle; pallid hill-sides blooming with mystic roses where the
+glow of the setting sun still lingered upon them; an arch of
+clearest, faintest azure bending overhead; in the center of the
+aerial landscape of the massive walls of the cloister of Pfalzel,
+gray to the east, purple to the west; silence over all,--a
+gentle, eager, conscious stillness, diffused through the air like
+perfume, as if earth and sky were hushing themselves to hear the
+voice of the river faintly murmuring down the valley.
+
+In the cloister, too, there was silence at the sunset hour. All
+day long there had been a strange and joyful stir among the nuns.
+A breeze of curiosity and excitement had swept along the
+corridors and through every quiet cell.
+
+The elder sisters,--the provost, the deaconess, the stewardess,
+the portress with her huge bunch of keys jingling at her
+girdle,--had been hurrying to and fro, busied with household
+cares. In the huge kitchen there was a bustle of hospitable
+preparation. The little bandy-legged dogs that kept the spits
+turning before the fires had been trotting steadily for many an
+hour, until their tongues hung out for want of breath. The big
+black pots swinging from the cranes had bubbled and gurgled and
+shaken and sent out puffs of appetizing steam.
+
+St. Martha was in her element. It was a field-day for her
+virtues.
+
+The younger sisters, the pupils of the convent, had forsaken
+their Latin books and their embroidery-frames, their manuscripts
+and their miniatures, and fluttered through the halls in little
+flocks like merry snow-birds, all in black and white, chattering
+and whispering together. This was no day for tedious task-work,
+no day for grammar or arithmetic, no day for picking out
+illuminated letters in red and gold on stiff parchment, or
+patiently chasing intricate patterns over thick cloth with the
+slow needle. It was a holiday. A famous visitor had come to the
+convent.
+
+It was Winfried of England, whose name in the Roman tongue was
+Boniface, and whom men called the Apostle of Germany. A great
+preacher; a wonderful scholar; he had written a Latin grammar
+himself,--think of it,--and he could hardly sleep without a book
+under his pillow; but, more than all, a great and daring
+traveller, a venturesome pilgrim, a high-priest of romance.
+
+He had left his home and his fair estate in Wessex; he would not
+stay in the rich monastery of Nutescelle, even though they had
+chosen him as the abbot; he had refused a bishopric at the court
+of King Karl. Nothing would content him but to go out into the
+wild woods and preach to the heathen.
+
+Up and down through the forests of Hesse and Thuringia, and along
+the borders of Saxony, he had wandered for years, with a handful
+of companions, sleeping under the trees, crossing mountains and
+marshes, now here, now there, never satisfied with ease and
+comfort, always in love with hardship and danger.
+
+What a man he was! Fair and slight, but straight as a spear and
+strong as an oaken staff. His face was still young; the smooth
+skin was bronzed by wing and sun. His gray eyes, clear and kind,
+flashed like fire when he spoke of his adventures, and of the evil
+deeds of the false priests with whom he had contended.
+
+What tales he had told that day! Not of miracles wrought by sacred
+relics; nor of courts and councils and splendid cathedrals; though
+he knew much of these things, and had been at Rome and received
+the Pope's blessing. But to-day he had spoken of long journeyings
+by sea and land; of perils by fire and flood; of wolves and bears
+and fierce snowstorms and black nights in the lonely forest; of
+dark altars of heaven gods, and weird, bloody sacrifices, and
+narrow escapes from wandering savages.
+
+The little novices had gathered around him, and their faces had
+grown pale and their eyes bright as they listened with parted
+lips, entranced in admiration, twining their arms about one
+another's shoulders and holding closely together, half in fear,
+half in delight. The older nuns had turned from their tasks and
+paused, in passing by, to hear the pilgrim's story. Too well they
+knew the truth of what he spoke. Many a one among them had seen
+the smoke rising from the ruins of her father's roof. Many a one
+had a brother far away in the wild country to whom her heart went
+out night and day, wondering if he were still among the living.
+
+But now the excitements of that wonderful day were over; the hours
+of the evening meal had come; the inmates of the cloister were
+assembled in the refectory.
+
+On the dais sat the stately Abbess Addula, daughter of King
+Dagobert, looking a princess indeed, in her violet tunic, with the
+hood and cuffs of her long white robe trimmed with fur, and a
+snowy veil resting like a crown on her snowy hair. At her right
+hand was the honoured guest, and at her left hand her grandson,
+the young Prince Gregor, a big, manly boy, just returned from
+school.
+
+The long, shadowy hall, with its dark-brown raters and beams; the
+double rows of nuns, with their pure veils and fair faces; the
+ruddy flow of the slanting sunbeams striking upwards through the
+tops of the windows and painting a pink glow high up on the
+walls,--it was all as beautiful as a picture, and as silent. For
+this was the rule of the cloister, that at the table all should
+sit in stillness for a little while, and then one should read
+aloud, while the rest listened.
+
+"It is the turn of my grandson to read to-day," said the abbess to
+Winfried; "we shall see how much he has learned in the school.
+Read, Gregor; the place in the book is marked."
+
+The tall lad rose from his seat and turned the pages of the
+manuscript. It was a copy of Jerome's version of the Scriptures in
+Latin, and the marked place was in the letter of St. Paul to the
+Ephesians,--the passage where he describes the preparation of the
+Christian as the arming of a warrior for glorious battle. The
+young voice rang out clearly, rolling the sonorous words, without
+slip or stumbling, to the end of the chapter.
+
+Winfried listened, smiling. "My son," said he, as the reader
+paused, "that was bravely read. Understandest thou what thou
+readest?"
+
+"Surely, father," answered the boy; "it was taught me by the
+masters at Treves; and we have read this epistle clear through,
+from beginning to end, so that I almost know it by heart."
+
+Then he began again to repeat the passage, turning away from the
+page as if to show his skill.
+
+But Winfried stopped him with a friendly lifting of the hand.
+
+"No so, my son; that was not my meaning. When we pray, we speak to
+God; when we read, it is God who speaks to us. I ask whether thou
+hast heard what He has said to thee, in thine own words, in the
+common speech. Come, give us again the message of the warrior and
+his armour and his battle, in the mother-tongue, so that all can
+understand it."
+
+The boy hesitated, blushed, stammered; then he came around to
+Winfried's seat, bringing the book. "Take the book, my father," he
+cried, "and read it for me. I cannot see the meaning plain, though
+I love the sound of the words. Religion I know, and the doctrines
+of our faith, and the life of priests and nuns in the cloister,
+for which my grandmother designs me, though it likes me little.
+And fighting I know, and the life of warriors and heroes, for I
+have read of it in Virgil and the ancients, and heard a bit from
+the soldiers at Treves; and I would fain taste more of it, for it
+likes me much. But how the two lives fit together, or what need
+there is of armour for a clerk in holy orders, I can never see.
+Tell me the meaning, for if there is a man in all the world that
+knows it, I am sure it is none other than thou."
+
+So Winfried took the book and closed it, clasping the boy's hand
+with his own.
+
+"Let us first dismiss the others to their vespers," said he, "lest
+they should be weary."
+
+A sign from the abbess; a chanted benediction; a murmuring of
+sweet voices and a soft rustling of many feet over the rushes on
+the floor; the gentle tide of noise flowed out through the doors
+and ebbed away down the corridors; the three at the head of the
+table were left alone in the darkening room.
+
+Then Winfried began to translate the parable of the soldier into
+the realities of life.
+
+At every turn he knew how to flash a new light into the picture
+out of his own experience. He spoke of the combat with self, and
+of the wrestling with dark spirits in solitude. He spoke of the
+demons that men had worshipped for centuries in the wilderness,
+and whose malice they invoked against the stranger who ventured
+into the gloomy forest. Gods, they called them, and told strange
+tales of their dwelling among the impenetrable branches of the
+oldest trees and in the caverns of the shaggy hills; of their
+riding on the wind-horses and hurling spears of lightning against
+their foes. Gods they were not, but foul spirits of the air,
+rulers of the darkness. Was there not glory and honour in fighting
+with them, in daring their anger under the shield of faith, in
+putting them to flight with the sword of truth? What better
+adventure could a brave man ask than to go forth against them, and
+wrestle with them, and conquer them?
+
+"Look you, my friends," said Winfried, "how sweet and peaceful is
+this convent to-night, on the eve of the nativity of the Prince of
+Peace! It is a garden full of flowers in the heart of winter; a
+nest among the branches of a great tree shaken by the winds; a
+still haven on the edge of a tempestuous sea. And this is what
+religion means for those who are chosen and called to quietude and
+prayer and meditation.
+
+"But out yonder in the wide forest, who knows what storms are
+raving to-night in the hearts of men, though all the woods are
+still? who knows what haunts of wrath and cruelty and fear are
+closed to-night against the advent of the Prince of Peace? And
+shall I tell you what religion means to those who are called and
+chosen to dare and to fight, and to conquer the world for Christ?
+It means to launch out into the deep. It means to go against the
+strongholds of the adversary. It means to struggle to win an
+entrance for their Master everywhere. What helmet is strong enough
+for this strife save the helmet of salvation? What breastplate can
+guard a man against these fiery darts but the breastplate of
+righteousness? What shoes can stand the wear of these journeys but
+the preparation of the gospel of peace?"
+
+"Shoes?" he cried again, and laughed as if a sudden thought had
+struck him. He thrust out his foot, covered with a heavy cowhide
+boot, laced high about his leg with thongs of skin.
+
+"See here,--how a fighting man of the cross is shod! I have seen
+the boots of the Bishop of Tours,--white kid, broidered with silk;
+a day in the bogs would tear them to shreds. I have seen the
+sandals that the monks use on the highroads,--yes, and worn them;
+ten pair of them have I worn out and thrown away in a single
+journey. Now I shoe my feet with the toughest hides, hard as iron;
+no rock can cut them, no branches can tear them. Yet more than one
+pair of these have I outworn, and many more shall I outwear ere my
+journeys are ended. And I think, if God is gracious to me, that I
+shall die wearing them. Better so than in a soft bed with silken
+coverings. The boots of a warrior, a hunter, a woodsman,--these
+are my preparation of the gospel of peace."
+
+"Come, Gregor," he said, laying his brown hand on the youth's
+shoulder, "come, wear the forester's boots with me. This is the
+life to which we are called. Be strong in the Lord, a hunter of
+the demons, a subduer of the wilderness, a woodsman of the faith.
+Come!"
+
+The boy's eyes sparkled. He turned to his grandmother. She shook
+her head vigorously.
+
+"Nay, father," she said, "draw not the lad away from my side with
+these wild words. I need him to help me with my labours, to cheer
+my old age."
+
+"Do you need him more than the Master does?" asked Winfried; "and
+will you take the wood that is fit for a bow to make a distaff?"
+
+"But I fear for the child. Thy life is too hard for him. He will
+perish with hunger in the woods."
+
+"Once," said Winfried, smiling, "we were camped by the bank of the
+river Ohru. The table was spread for the morning meal, but my
+comrades cried that it was empty; the provisions were exhausted;
+we must go without breakfast, and perhaps starve before we could
+escape from the wilderness. While they complained, a fish-hawk
+flew up from the river with flapping wings, and let fall a great
+pike in the midst of the camp. There was food enough and to spare.
+Never have I seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging
+bread."
+
+"But the fierce pagans of the forest," cried the abbess,--"they
+may pierce the boy with their arrows, or dash out his brains with
+their axes. He is but a child, too young for the dangers of
+strife."
+
+"A child in years," replied Winfried, "but a man in spirit. And if
+the hero must fall early in the battle, he wears the brighter
+crown, not a leaf withered, not a flower fallen."
+
+The aged princess trembled a little. She drew Gregor close to her
+side, and laid her hand gently on his brown hair.
+
+"I am not sure that he wants to leave me yet. Besides, there is no
+horse in the stable to give him, now, and he cannot go as befits
+the grandson of a king."
+
+Gregor looked straight into her eyes.
+
+"Grandmother," said he, "dear grandmother, if thou wilt not give
+me a horse to ride with this man of God, I will go with him
+afoot."
+
+[Illustration--The fields around lay bare to the moon.]
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE TRAIL THROUGH THE FOREST
+
+
+II
+
+Two years had passed, to a day, almost to an hour, since that
+Christmas eve in the cloister of Pfalzel. A little company of
+pilgrims, less than a score a men, were creeping slowly northward
+through the wide forest that rolled over the hills of central
+Germany.
+
+At the head of the band marched Winfried, clad in a tunic of fur,
+with his long black robe girt high about his waist, so that it
+might not hinder his stride. His hunter's boots were crusted with
+snow. Drops of ice sparkled like jewels along the thongs that
+bound his legs. There was no other ornament to his dress except
+the bishop's cross hanging on his breast, and the broad silver
+clasp that fastened his cloak about his neck. He carried a strong,
+tall staff in his hand, fashioned at the top into the form of a
+cross.
+
+Close beside him, keeping step like a familiar comrade, was the
+young Prince Gregor. Long marches through the wilderness had
+stretched his limbs and broadened his back, and made a man of him
+in stature as well as in spirit. His jacket and cap were of
+wolfskin, and on his shoulder he carried an axe, with broad,
+shining blade. He was a mighty woodsman now, and could make a
+spray of chips fly around him as he hewed his way through the
+trunk of spruce-tree.
+
+Behind these leaders followed a pair of teamsters, guiding a rude
+sledge, loaded with food and the equipage of the camp, and drawn
+by two big, shaggy horses, blowing thick clouds of steam from
+their frosty nostrils. Tiny icicles hung from the hairs on their
+lips. Their flanks were smoking. They sank above the fetlocks at
+every step in the soft snow.
+
+Last of all came the rear guard, armed with bows and javelins. It
+was no child's play, in those days, to cross Europe afoot.
+
+The weird woodland, sombre and illimitable, covered hill and vale,
+tableland and mountain-peak. There were wide moors where the
+wolves hunted in packs as if the devil drove them, and tangled
+thickets where the lynx and the boar made their lairs. Fierce
+bears lurked among the rocky passes, and had not yet learned to
+fear the face of man. The gloomy recesses of the forest gave
+shelter to inhabitants who were still more cruel and dangerous
+than beasts of prey,--outlaws and sturdy robbers and mad
+were-wolves and bands of wandering pillagers.
+
+The pilgrim who would pass from the mouth of the Tiber to the
+mouth of the Rhine must travel with a little army of retainers, or
+else trust in God and keep his arrows loose in the quiver.
+
+The travellers were surrounded by an ocean of trees, so vast, so
+full of endless billows, that it seemed to be pressing on every
+side to overwhelm them. Gnarled oaks, with branches twisted and
+knotted as if in rage, rose in groves like tidal waves. Smooth
+forests of beech-trees, round and gray, swept over the knolls and
+slopes of land in a mighty ground-swell. But most of all, the
+multitude of pines and firs, innumerable and monotonous, with
+straight, stark trunks, and branches woven together in an unbroken
+Hood of darkest green, crowded through the valleys and over the
+hills, rising on the highest ridges into ragged crests, like the
+foaming edge of breakers.
+
+Through this sea of shadows ran a narrow stream of shining
+whiteness,--an ancient Roman road, covered with snow. It was as if
+some great ship had ploughed through the green ocean long ago, and
+left behind it a thick, smooth wake of foam. Along this open track
+the travellers held their way,--heavily, for the drifts were deep;
+warily, for the hard winter had driven many packs of wolves down
+from the moors.
+
+The steps of the pilgrims were noiseless; but the sledges creaked
+over the dry snow, and the panting of the horses throbbed through
+the still, cold air. The pale-blue shadows on the western side of
+the road grew longer. The sun, declining through its shallow arch,
+dropped behind the tree-tops. Darkness followed swiftly, as if it
+had been a bird of prey waiting for this sign to swoop down upon
+the world.
+
+"Father," said Gregor to the leader, "surely this day's march is
+done. It is time to rest, and eat, and sleep. If we press onward
+now, we cannot see our steps; and will not that be against the
+word of the psalmist David, who bids us not to put confidence in
+the legs of a man?"
+
+Winfried laughed. "Nay, my son Gregor," said he, "thou hast
+tripped, even now, upon thy text. For David said only, 'I take no
+pleasure in the legs of a man.' And so say I, for I am not minded
+to spare thy legs or mine, until we come farther on our way, and
+do what must be done this night. Draw the belt tighter, my son,
+and hew me out this tree that is fallen across the road, for our
+campground is not here."
+
+The youth obeyed; two of the foresters sprang to help him; and
+while the soft fir-wood yielded to the stroke of the axes, and the
+snow flew from the bending branches, Winfried turned and spoke to
+his followers in a cheerful voice, that refreshed them like wine.
+
+"Courage, brothers, and forward yet a little! The moon will light
+us presently, and the path is plain. Well know I that the journey
+is weary; and my own heart wearies also for the home in England,
+where those I love are keeping feast this Christmas eve. But we
+have work to do before we feast to-night. For this is the
+Yuletide, and the heathen people of the forest have gathered at
+the thunder-oak of Geismar to worship their god, Thor. Strange
+things will be seen there, and deeds which make the soul black.
+But we are sent to lighten their darkness; and we will teach our
+kinsmen to keep a Christmas with us such as the woodland has never
+known. Forward, then, and let us stiffen up our feeble knees!"
+
+A murmur of assent came from the men. Even the horses seemed to
+take fresh heart. They flattened their backs to draw the heavy
+loads, and blew the frost from their nostrils as they pushed
+ahead.
+
+The night grew broader and less oppressive. A gate of brightness
+was opened secretly somewhere in the sky; higher and higher
+swelled the clear moon-flood, until it poured over the eastern
+wall of forest into the road. A drove of wolves howled faintly in
+the distance, but they were receding, and the sound soon died
+away. The stars sparkled merrily through the stringent air; the
+small, round moon shone like silver; little breaths of the
+dreaming wind wandered whispering across the pointed fir-tops, as
+the pilgrims toiled bravely onward, following their clue of light
+through a labyrinth of darkness.
+
+After a while the road began to open out a little. There were
+spaces of meadow-land, fringed with alders, behind which a
+boisterous river ran, clashing through spears of ice.
+
+Rude houses of hewn logs appeared in the openings, each one
+casting a patch of inky blackness upon the snow. Then the
+travellers passed a larger group of dwellings, all silent and
+unlighted; and beyond, they saw a great house, with many
+outbuildings and enclosed courtyards, from which the hounds bayed
+furiously, and a noise of stamping horses came from the stalls.
+But there was no other sound of life. The fields around lay bare
+to the moon. They saw no man, except that once, on a path that
+skirted the farther edge of a meadow, three dark figures passed
+by, running very swiftly.
+
+Then the road plunged again into a dense thicket, traversed it,
+and climbing to the left, emerged suddenly upon a glade, round and
+level except at the northern side, where a swelling hillock was
+crowned with a huge oak-tree. It towered above the heath, a giant
+with contorted arms, beckoning to the host of lesser trees.
+"Here," cried Winfried, as his eyes flashed and his hand lifted
+his heavy staff, "here is the Thunder-oak; and here the cross of
+Christ shall break the hammer of the false god Thor."
+
+[Illustration--The sacred hammer of the god Thor]
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE SHADOW OF THE THUNDER-OAK
+
+
+III
+
+Withered leaves still clung to the branches of the oak: torn and
+faded banners of the departed summer. The bright crimson of autumn
+had long since disappeared, bleached away by the storms and the
+cold. But to-night these tattered remnants of glory were red
+again: ancient bloodstains against the dark-blue sky. For an
+immense fire had been kindled in front of the tree. Tongues of
+ruddy flame, fountains of ruby sparks, ascended through the
+spreading limbs and flung a fierce illumination upward and around.
+ward and around. The pale, pure moonlight that bathed the
+surrounding forests was quenched and eclipsed here. Not a beam of
+it sifted down-ward through the branches of the oak. It stood like
+a pillar of cloud between the still light of heaven and the
+crackling, flashing fire of earth.
+
+But the fire itself was invisible to Winfried and his companions.
+A great throng of people were gathered around it in a half-circle,
+their backs to the open glade, their faces towards the oak. Seen
+against that glowing background, it was but the silhouette of a
+crowd, vague, black, formless, mysterious.
+
+The travellers paused for a moment at the edge of the thicket, and
+took counsel together.
+
+"It is the assembly of the tribe," said one of the foresters, "the
+great night of the council. I heard of it three days ago, as we
+passed through one of the villages. All who swear by the old gods
+have been summoned. They will sacrifice a steed to the god of war,
+and drink blood, and eat horse-flesh to make them strong. It will
+be at the peril of our lives if we approach them. At least we must
+hide the cross, if we would escape death."
+
+"Hide me no cross," cried Winfried, lifting his staff, "for I have
+come to show it, and to make these blind folk see its power. There
+is more to be done here to-night than the slaying of a steed, and
+a greater evil to be stayed than the shameful eating of meat
+sacrificed to idols. I have seen it in a dream. Here the cross
+must stand and be our rede."
+
+At his command the sledge was left in the border of the wood, with
+two of the men to guard it, and the rest of the company moved
+forward across the open ground. They approached unnoticed, for all
+the multitude were looking intently towards the fire at the foot
+of the oak.
+
+Then Winfried's voice rang out, "Hail, ye sons of the forest! A
+stranger claims the warmth of your fire in the winter night."
+
+Swiftly, and as with a single motion, a thousand eyes were bent
+upon the speaker. The semicircle opened silently in the middle;
+Winfried entered with his followers; it closed again behind them.
+
+Then, as they looked round the curving ranks, they saw that the
+hue of the assemblage was not black, but white,--dazzling,
+radiant, solemn. White, the robes of the women clustered together
+at the points of the wide crescent; white, the glittering byrnies
+of the warriors standing in close ranks; white, the fur mantles of
+the aged men who held the central place in the circle; white, with
+the shimmer of silver ornaments and the purity of lamb's-wool, the
+raiment of a little group of children who stood close by the fire;
+white, with awe and fear, the faces of all who looked at them; and
+over all the flickering, dancing radiance of the flames played and
+glimmered like a faint, vanishing tinge of blood on snow.
+
+The only figure untouched by the glow was the old priest, Hunrad,
+with his long, spectral robe, flowing hair and beard, and dead-pale
+face, who stood with his back to the fire and advanced slowly to
+meet the strangers.
+
+"Who are you? Whence come you, and what seek you here?" His voice
+was heavy and toneless as a muffled bell.
+
+"You kinsman am I, of the German brotherhood," answered Winfried,
+"and from England, beyond the sea, have I come to bring you a
+greeting from that land, and a message from the All-Father, whose
+servant I am."
+
+"Welcome, then," said Hunrad, "welcome, kinsman, and be silent;
+for what passes here is too high to wait, and must be done before
+the moon crosses the middle heaven, unless, indeed, thou hast some
+sign or token from the gods. Canst thou work miracles?"
+
+The question came sharply, as if a sudden gleam of hope had
+flashed through the tangle of the old priest's mind. But
+Winfried's voice sank lower and a cloud of disappointment passed
+over his face as he replied: "Nay, miracles have I never wrought,
+though I have heard of many; but the All-Father has given no power
+to my hands save such as belongs to common man."
+
+"Stand still, then, thou common man," said Hunrad, scornfully,
+"and behold what the gods have called us hither to do. This night
+is the death-night of the sun-god, Baldur the Beautiful, beloved
+of gods and men. This night is the hour of darkness and the power
+of winter, of sacrifice and mighty fear. This night the great
+Thor, the god of thunder and war, to whom this oak is sacred, is
+grieved for the death of Baldur, and angry with this people
+because they have forsaken his worship. Long is it since an
+offering has been laid upon his altar, long since the roots of his
+holy tree have been fed with blood. Therefore its leaves have
+withered before the time, and its boughs are heavy with death.
+Therefore the Slavs and the Wends have beaten us in battle.
+Therefore the harvests have failed, and the wolf-hordes have
+ravaged the folds, and the strength has departed from the bow, and
+the wood of the spear has broken, and the wild boar has slain the
+huntsman. Therefore the plague has fallen on our dwellings, and
+the dead are more than the living in all our villages. Answer me,
+ye people, are not these things true?"
+
+A hoarse sound of approval ran through the circle. A chant, in
+which the voices of the men and women blended, like the shrill
+wind in the pine-trees above the rumbling thunder of a waterfall,
+rose and fell in rude cadences.
+
+O Thor, the Thunderer,
+Mighty and merciless,
+Spare us from smiting!
+Heave not thy hammer,
+Angry, against us;
+Plague not thy people.
+Take from our treasure
+Richest of ransom.
+Silver we send thee,
+Jewels and javelins,
+Goodliest garments,
+All our possessions,
+Priceless, we proffer.
+Sheep will we slaughter,
+Steeds will we sacrifice;
+Bright blood shall bathe thee,
+O tree of Thunder,
+Life-floods shall lave thee,
+Strong wood of wonder.
+Mighty, have mercy,
+Smite us no more,
+Spare us and save us,
+Spare us, Thor! Thor!
+
+With two great shouts the song ended, and a stillness followed so
+intense that the crackling of the fire was heard distinctly. The
+old priest stood silent for a moment. His shaggy brows swept down
+over his eyes like ashes quenching flame. Then he lifted his face
+and spoke.
+
+"None of these things will please the god. More costly is the
+offering that shall cleanse your sin, more precious the crimson
+dew that shall send new life into this holy tree of blood. Thor
+claims your dearest and your noblest gift."
+
+Hunrad moved nearer to the handful of children who stood watching
+the red mines in the fire and the swarms of spark-serpents darting
+upward. They had heeded none of the priest's words, and did not
+notice now that he approached them, so eager were they to see
+which fiery snake would go highest among the oak branches.
+Foremost among them, and most intent on the pretty game, was a boy
+like a sunbeam, slender and quick, with blithe brown eyes and
+laughing lips. The priest's hand was laid upon his shoulder. The
+boy turned and looked up in his face.
+
+"Here," said the old man, with his voice vibrating as when a thick
+rope is strained by a ship swinging from her moorings, "here is
+the chosen one, the eldest son of the Chief, the darling of the
+people. Hearken, Bernhard, wilt thou go to Valhalla, where the
+heroes dwell with the gods, to bear a message to Thor?"
+
+The boy answered, swift and clear:
+
+"Yes, priest, I will go if my father bids me. Is it far away?
+Shall I run quickly? Must I take my bow and arrows for the
+wolves?"
+
+The boy's father, the Chieftain Gundhar, standing among his
+bearded warriors, drew his breath deep, and leaned so heavily on
+the handle of his spear that the wood cracked. And his wife, Irma,
+bending forward from the ranks of women, pushed the golden hair
+from her forehead with one hand. The other dragged at the silver
+chain about her neck until the rough links pierced her flesh, and
+the red drops fell unheeded on the snow of her breast.
+
+A sigh passed through the crowd, like the murmur of the forest
+before the storm breaks. Yet no one spoke save Hunrad:
+
+"Yes, my Prince, both bow and spear shalt thou have, for the way
+is long, and thou art a brave huntsman. But in darkness thou must
+journey for a little space, and with eyes blindfolded. Fearest
+thou?"
+
+"Naught fear I," said the boy, "neither darkness, nor the great
+bear, nor the were-wolf. For I am Gundhar's son, and the defender
+of my folk."
+
+Then the priest led the child in his raiment of lamb's-wool to a
+broad stone in front of the fire. He gave him his little bow
+tipped with silver, and his spear with shining head of steel. He
+bound the child's eyes with a white cloth, and bade him kneel
+beside the stone with his face to the east. Unconsciously the wide
+arc of spectators drew inward toward the centre, as the ends of
+the bow draw together when the cord is stretched. Winfried moved
+noiselessly until he stood close behind the priest.
+
+The old man stooped to lift a black hammer of stone from the
+ground,--the sacred hammer of the god Thor. Summoning all the
+strength of his withered arms, he swung it high in the air. It
+poised for an instant above the child's fair head--then turned to
+fall.
+
+One keen cry shrilled out from where the women stood: "Me! take
+me! not Bernhard!"
+
+The flight of the mother towards her child was swift as the
+falcon's swoop. But swifter still was the hand of the deliverer.
+
+Winfried's heavy staff thrust mightily against the hammer's handle
+as it fell. Sideways it glanced from the old man's grasp, and the
+black stone, striking on the altar's edge, split in twain. A shout
+of awe and joy rolled along the living circle. The branches of the
+oak shivered. The flames leaped higher. As the shout died away the
+people saw the lady Irma, with her arms clasped round her child,
+and above them, on the altar-stone, Winfried, his face shining
+like the face of an angel.
+
+[Illustration--Then Winfried told the story of Bethlehem]
+
+
+
+IV
+
+THE FELLING OF THE TREE
+
+
+IV
+
+A swift mountain-flood rolling down its channel; a huge rock
+tumbling from the hill-side and falling in mid-stream; the baffled
+waters broken and confused, pausing in their flow, dash high
+against the rock, foaming and murmuring, with divided impulse,
+uncertain whether to turn to the right or the left.
+
+Even so Winfried's bold deed fell into the midst of the thoughts
+and passions of the council. They were at a standstill. Anger and
+wonder, reverence and joy and confusion surged through the crowd.
+They knew not which way to move: to resent the intrusion of the
+stranger as an insult to their gods, or to welcome him as the
+rescuer of their darling prince.
+
+The old priest crouched by the altar, silent. Conflicting counsels
+troubled the air. Let the sacrifice go forward; the gods must be
+appeased. Nay, the boy must not die; bring the chieftain's best
+horse and slay it in his stead; it will be enough; the holy tree
+loves the blood of horses. Not so, there is a better counsel yet;
+seize the stranger whom the gods have led hither as a victim and
+make his life pay the forfeit of his daring.
+
+The withered leaves on the oak rustled and whispered overhead. The
+fire flared and sank again. The angry voices clashed against each
+other and fell like opposing waves. Then the chieftain Gundhar
+struck the earth with his spear and gave his decision.
+
+"All have spoken, but none are agreed. There is no voice of the
+council. Keep silence now, and let the stranger speak. His words
+shall give us judgment, whether he is to live or to die."
+
+Winfried lifted himself high upon the altar, drew a roll of
+parchment from his bosom, and began to read.
+
+"A letter from the great Bishop of Rome, who sits on a golden
+throne, to the people of the forest, Hessians and Thuringians,
+Franks and Saxons. _In nomine Domini, sanctae et individuae
+trinitatis, amen!"_
+
+A murmur of awe ran through the crowd. "It is the sacred tongue of
+the Romans: the tongue that is heard and understood by the wise
+men of every land. There is magic in it. Listen!"
+
+Winfried went on to read the letter, translating it into the
+speech of the people.
+
+"'We have sent unto you our Brother Boniface, and appointed him
+your bishop, that he may teach you the only true faith, and
+baptize you, and lead you back from the ways of error to the path
+of salvation. Hearken to him in all things like a father. Bow your
+hearts to his teaching. He comes not for earthly gain, but for the
+gain of your souls. Depart from evil works. Worship not the false
+gods, for they are devils. Offer no more bloody sacrifices, nor
+eat the flesh of horses, but do as our Brother Boniface commands
+you. Build a house for him that he may dwell among you, and a
+church where you may offer your prayers to the only living God,
+the Almighty King of Heaven.'"
+
+It was a splendid message: proud, strong, peaceful, loving. The
+dignity of the words imposed mightily upon the hearts of the
+people. They were quieted as men who have listened to a lofty
+strain of music.
+
+"Tell us, then," said Gundhar, "what is the word that thou
+bringest to us from the Almighty. What is thy counsel for the
+tribes of the woodland on this night of sacrifice?"
+
+"This is the word, and this is the counsel," answered Winfried.
+"Not a drop of blood shall fall to-night, save that which pity has
+drawn from the breast of your princess, in love for her child. Not
+a life shall be blotted out in the darkness tonight; but the great
+shadow of the tree which hides you from the light of heaven shall
+be swept away. For this is the birth-night of the white Christ,
+son of the All-Father, and Saviour of mankind. Fairer is He than
+Baldur the Beautiful, greater than Odin the Wise, kinder than
+Freya the Good. Since He has come to earth the bloody sacrifices
+must cease. The dark Thor, on whom you vainly call, is dead. Deep
+in the shades of Niffelheim he is lost forever. His power in the
+world is broken. Will you serve a helpless god? See, my brothers,
+you call this tree his oak. Does he dwell here? Does he protect
+it?"
+
+A troubled voice of assent rose from the throng. The people
+stirred uneasily. Women covered their eyes. Hunrad lifted his head
+and muttered hoarsely, "Thor! take vengeance! Thor!"
+
+Winfried beckoned to Gregor. "Bring the axes, thine and one for
+me. Now, young woodsman, show thy craft! The king-tree of the
+forest must fall, and swiftly, or all is lost!"
+
+The two men took their places facing each other, one on each side
+of the oak. Their cloaks were flung aside, their heads bare.
+Carefully they felt the ground with their feet, seeking a firm
+grip of the earth. Firmly they grasped the axe-helves and swung
+the shining blades.
+
+"Tree-god!" cried Winfried, "art thou angry? Thus we smite thee!"
+
+"Tree-god!" answered Gregor, "art thou mighty? Thus we fight
+thee!"
+
+Clang! clang! the alternate strokes beat time upon the hard,
+ringing wood. The axe-heads glittered in their rhythmic flight,
+like fierce eagles circling about their quarry.
+
+The broad flakes of wood flew from the deepening gashes in the
+sides of the oak. The huge trunk quivered. There was a shuddering
+in the branches. Then the great wonder of Winfried's life came to
+pass.
+
+Out of the stillness of the winter night, a mighty rushing noise
+sounded overhead.
+
+Was it the ancient gods on their white battle-steeds, with their
+black hounds of wrath and their arrows of lightning, sweeping
+through the air to destroy their foes?
+
+A strong, whirling wind passed over the tree-tops. It gripped the
+oak by its branches and tore it from its roots. Backward it fell,
+like a ruined tower, groaning and crashing as it split asunder in
+four great pieces.
+
+Winfried let his axe drop, and bowed his head for a moment in the
+presence of almighty power.
+
+Then he turned to the people, "Here is the timber," he cried,
+"already felled and split for your new building. On this spot
+shall rise a chapel to the true God and his servant St. Peter.
+
+"And here," said he, as his eyes fell on a young fir-tree,
+standing straight and green, with its top pointing towards the
+stars, amid the divided ruins of the fallen oak, "here is the
+living tree, with no stain of blood upon it, that shall be the
+sign of your new worship. See how it points to the sky. Let us
+call it the tree of the Christ-child. Take it up and carry it to
+the chieftain's hall. You shall go no more into the shadows of the
+forest to keep your feasts with secret rites of shame. You shall
+keep them at home, with laughter and song and rites of love. The
+thunder-oak has fallen, and I think the day is coming when there
+shall not be a home in all Germany where the children are not
+gathered around the green fir-tree to rejoice in the birth-night
+of Christ."
+
+So they took the little fir from its place, and carried it in
+joyous procession to the edge of the glade, and laid it on the
+sledge. The horses tossed their heads and drew their load bravely,
+as if the new burden had made it lighter.
+
+When they came to the house of Gundhar, he bade them throw open
+the doors of the hall and set the tree in the midst of it. They
+kindled lights among the branches until it seemed to be tangled
+full of fire-flies. The children encircled it, wondering, and the
+sweet odour of the balsam filled the house.
+
+Then Winfried stood beside the chair of Gundhar, on the dais at
+the end of the hall, and told the story of Bethlehem; of the babe
+in the manger, of the shepherds on the hills, of the host of
+angels and their midnight song. All the people listened, charmed
+into stillness. But the boy Bernhard, on Irma's knee, folded by
+her soft arm, grew restless as the story lengthened, and began to
+prattle softly at his mother's ear.
+
+"Mother," whispered the child, "why did you cry out so loud, when
+the priest was going to send me to Valhalla?"
+
+"Oh, hush, my child," answered the mother, and pressed him closer
+to her side.
+
+"Mother," whispered the boy again, laying his finger on the stains
+upon her breast, "see, your dress is red! What are these stains?
+Did some one hurt you?"
+
+The mother closed his mouth with a kiss. "Dear, be still, and
+listen!"
+
+The boy obeyed. His eyes were heavy with sleep. But he heard the
+last words of Winfried as he spoke of the angelic messengers,
+flying over the hills of Judea and singing as they flew. The child
+wondered and dreamed and listened. Suddenly his face grew bright.
+He put his lips close to Irma's cheek again.
+
+"Oh, mother!" he whispered very low, "do not speak. Do you hear
+them? Those angels have come back again. They are singing now
+behind the tree."
+
+And some say that it was true; but others say that it was only
+Gregor and his companions at the lower end of the hall, chanting
+their Christmas hymn:
+
+All glory be to God on high,
+And to the earth be peace!
+Good-will, henceforth, from heaven to men
+Begin, and never cease.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FIRST CHRISTMAS TREE***
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