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diff --git a/16134.txt b/16134.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..df8a8e8 --- /dev/null +++ b/16134.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1332 @@ +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*** + + +******* This file should be named 16134.txt or 16134.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/1/3/16134 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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