file which includes the original illustrations4 ,see #afacd-;h4htm or #afacd-;h4zip3 7https3_/_/www4gutenberg4org_/dirs_/#a_/ f_/a_/c_/afacd_/afacd-;h_/#afacd-;h4htm7 or 7https3_/_/www4gutenberg4org_/dirs_/#a_/ f_/a_/c_/afacd_/afacd-;h4zip7 ,,the ,,first ,,christmas ,,tree ,a ,story of the ,forest by ,,henry ,,van ,,dyke ,illustrated by ,howard ,pyle ,charles ,scribner's ,sons ,new ,york ,university ,press3 ,john ,wilson and ,son1 ,cambridge1 ,u4,s4,a4 ,,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 ,pyle4 ,so they took the little fir from its place 4 4 4 7,frontispiece7 ,the fields around lay bare to the moon 4 4 4 ,the sacred hammer of the ,god ,thor 4 4 4 ,then ,winfried told the story of ,bethlehem 4 4 4 ,i ,,the ,,call ,,of ,,the ,,woodsman ,i ,the day before ,christmas1 in the year of our ,lord #gbb4 ,broad snow-meadows glistening white along the banks of the river ,moselle2 pallid hill-sides blooming with mystic roses where the glow of the setting sun still lingered upon them2 an arch of clearest1 faintest azure bending overhead2 in the center of the aerial landscape of the massive walls of the cloister of ,pfalzel1 gray to the east1 purple to the west2 silence over all1--a gentle1 eager1 conscious stillness1 diffused through the air like perfume1 as if earth and sky were hushing themselves to hear the voice of the river faintly murmuring down the valley4 ,in the cloister1 too1 there was silence at the sunset hour4 ,all day long there had been a strange and joyful stir among the nuns4 ,a breeze of curiosity and excitement had swept along the corridors and through every quiet cell4 ,the elder sisters1--the provost1 the deaconess1 the stewardess1 the portress with her huge bunch of keys jingling at her girdle1--had been hurrying to and fro1 busied with household cares4 ,in the huge kitchen there was a bustle of hospitable preparation4 ,the little bandy-legged dogs that kept the spits turning before the fires had been trotting steadily for many an hour1 until their tongues hung out for want of breath4 ,the big black pots swinging from the cranes had bubbled and gurgled and shaken and sent out puffs of appetizing steam4 ,st4 ,martha was in her element4 ,it was a field-day for her virtues4 ,the younger sisters1 the pupils of the convent1 had forsaken their ,latin books and their embroidery-frames1 their manuscripts and their miniatures1 and fluttered through the halls in little flocks like merry snow-birds1 all in black and white1 chattering and whispering together4 ,this was no day for tedious task-work1 no day for grammar or arithmetic1 no day for picking out illuminated letters in red and gold on stiff parchment1 or patiently chasing intricate patterns over thick cloth with the slow needle4 ,it was a holiday4 ,a famous visitor had come to the convent4 ,it was ,winfried of ,england1 whose name in the ,roman tongue was ,boniface1 and whom men called the ,apostle of ,germany4 ,a great preacher2 a wonderful scholar2 he had written a ,latin grammar himself1--think of it1--and he could hardly sleep without a book under his pillow2 but1 more than all1 a great and daring traveller1 a venturesome pilgrim1 a high-priest of romance4 ,he had left his home and his fair estate in ,wessex2 he would not stay in the rich monastery of ,nutescelle1 even though they had chosen him as the abbot2 he had refused a bishopric at the court of ,king ,karl4 ,nothing would content him but to go out into the wild woods and preach to the heathen4 ,up and down through the forests of ,hesse and ,thuringia1 and along the borders of ,saxony1 he had wandered for years1 with a handful of companions1 sleeping under the trees1 crossing mountains and marshes1 now here1 now there1 never satisfied with ease and comfort1 always in love with hardship and danger4 ,what a man he was6 ,fair and slight1 but straight as a spear and strong as an oaken staff4 ,his face was still young2 the smooth skin was bronzed by wing and sun4 ,his gray eyes1 clear and kind1 flashed like fire when he spoke of his adventures1 and of the evil deeds of the false priests with whom he had contended4 ,what tales he had told that day6 ,not of miracles wrought by sacred relics2 nor of courts and councils and splendid cathedrals2 though he knew much of these things1 and had been at ,rome and received the ,pope's blessing4 ,but to-day he had spoken of long journeyings by sea and land2 of perils by fire and flood2 of wolves and bears and fierce snowstorms and black nights in the lonely forest2 of dark altars of heaven gods1 and weird1 bloody sacrifices1 and narrow escapes from wandering savages4 ,the little novices had gathered around him1 and their faces had grown pale and their eyes bright as they listened with parted lips1 entranced in admiration1 twining their arms about one another's shoulders and holding closely together1 half in fear1 half in delight4 ,the older nuns had turned from their tasks and paused1 in passing by1 to hear the pilgrim's story4 ,too well they knew the truth of what he spoke4 ,many a one among them had seen the smoke rising from the ruins of her father's roof4 ,many a one had a brother far away in the wild country to whom her heart went out night and day1 wondering if he were still among the living4 ,but now the excitements of that wonderful day were over2 the hours of the evening meal had come2 the inmates of the cloister were assembled in the refectory4 ,on the dais sat the stately ,abbess ,addula1 daughter of ,king ,dagobert1 looking a princess indeed1 in her violet tunic1 with the hood and cuffs of her long white robe trimmed with fur1 and a snowy veil resting like a crown on her snowy hair4 ,at her right hand was the honoured guest1 and at her left hand her grandson1 the young ,prince ,gregor1 a big1 manly boy1 just returned from school4 ,the long1 shadowy hall1 with its dark-brown raters and beams2 the double rows of nuns1 with their pure veils and fair faces2 the ruddy flow of the slanting sunbeams striking upwards through the tops of the windows and painting a pink glow high up on the walls1--it was all as beautiful as a picture1 and as silent4 ,for this was the rule of the cloister1 that at the table all should sit in stillness for a little while1 and then one should read aloud1 while the rest listened4 ,it is the turn of my grandson to read to-day1 said the abbess to ,winfried2 we shall see how much he has learned in the school4 ,read1 ,gregor2 the place in the book is marked4 ,the tall lad rose from his seat and turned the pages of the manuscript4 ,it was a copy of ,jerome's version of the ,scriptures in ,latin1 and the marked place was in the letter of ,st4 ,paul to the ,ephesians1--the passage where he describes the preparation of the ,christian as the arming of a warrior for glorious battle4 ,the young voice rang out clearly1 rolling the sonorous words1 without slip or stumbling1 to the end of the chapter4 ,winfried listened1 smiling4 ,my son1 said he1 as the reader paused1 that was bravely read4 ,understandest thou what thou readest8 ,surely1 father1 answered the boy2 it was taught me by the masters at ,treves2 and we have read this epistle clear through1 from beginning to end1 so that ,i almost know it by heart4 ,then he began again to repeat the passage1 turning away from the page as if to show his skill4 ,but ,winfried stopped him with a friendly lifting of the hand4 ,no so1 my son2 that was not my meaning4 ,when we pray1 we speak to ,god2 when we read1 it is ,god who speaks to us4 ,i ask whether thou hast heard what ,he has said to thee1 in thine own words1 in the common speech4 ,come1 give us again the message of the warrior and his armour and his battle1 in the mother-tongue1 so that all can understand it4 ,the boy hesitated1 blushed1 stammered2 then he came around to ,winfried's seat1 bringing the book4 ,take the book1 my father1 he cried1 and read it for me4 ,i cannot see the meaning plain1 though ,i love the sound of the words4 ,religion ,i know1 and the doctrines of our faith1 and the life of priests and nuns in the cloister1 for which my grandmother designs me1 though it likes me little4 ,and fighting ,i know1 and the life of warriors and heroes1 for ,i have read of it in ,virgil and the ancients1 and heard a bit from the soldiers at ,treves2 and ,i would fain taste more of it1 for it likes me much4 ,but how the two lives fit together1 or what need there is of armour for a clerk in holy orders1 ,i can never see4 ,tell me the meaning1 for if there is a man in all the world that knows it1 ,i am sure it is none other than thou4 ,so ,winfried took the book and closed it1 clasping the boy's hand with his own4 ,let us first dismiss the others to their vespers1 said he1 lest they should be weary4 ,a sign from the abbess2 a chanted benediction2 a murmuring of sweet voices and a soft rustling of many feet over the rushes on the floor2 the gentle tide of noise flowed out through the doors and ebbed away down the corridors2 the three at the head of the table were left alone in the darkening room4 ,then ,winfried began to translate the parable of the soldier into the realities of life4 ,at every turn he knew how to flash a new light into the picture out of his own experience4 ,he spoke of the combat with self1 and of the wrestling with dark spirits in solitude4 ,he spoke of the demons that men had worshipped for centuries in the wilderness1 and whose malice they invoked against the stranger who ventured into the gloomy forest4 ,gods1 they called them1 and told strange tales of their dwelling among the impenetrable branches of the oldest trees and in the caverns of the shaggy hills2 of their riding on the wind-horses and hurling spears of lightning against their foes4 ,gods they were not1 but foul spirits of the air1 rulers of the darkness4 ,was there not glory and honour in fighting with them1 in daring their anger under the shield of faith1 in putting them to flight with the sword of truth8 ,what better adventure could a brave man ask than to go forth against them1 and wrestle with them1 and conquer them8 ,look you1 my friends1 said ,winfried1 how sweet and peaceful is this convent to-night1 on the eve of the nativity of the ,prince of ,peace6 ,it is a garden full of flowers in the heart of winter2 a nest among the branches of a great tree shaken by the winds2 a still haven on the edge of a tempestuous sea4 ,and this is what religion means for those who are chosen and called to quietude and prayer and meditation4 ,but out yonder in the wide forest1 who knows what storms are raving to-night in the hearts of men1 though all the woods are still8 who knows what haunts of wrath and cruelty and fear are closed to-night against the advent of the ,prince of ,peace8 ,and shall ,i tell you what religion means to those who are called and chosen to dare and to fight1 and to conquer the world for ,christ8 ,it means to launch out into the deep4 ,it means to go against the strongholds of the adversary4 ,it means to struggle to win an entrance for their ,master everywhere4 ,what helmet is strong enough for this strife save the helmet of salvation8 ,what breastplate can guard a man against these fiery darts but the breastplate of righteousness8 ,what shoes can stand the wear of these journeys but the preparation of the gospel of peace8 ,shoes8 he cried again1 and laughed as if a sudden thought had struck him4 ,he thrust out his foot1 covered with a heavy cowhide boot1 laced high about his leg with thongs of skin4 ,see here1--how a fighting man of the cross is shod6 ,i have seen the boots of the ,bishop of ,tours1--white kid1 broidered with silk2 a day in the bogs would tear them to shreds4 ,i have seen the sandals that the monks use on the highroads1--yes1 and worn them2 ten pair of them have ,i worn out and thrown away in a single journey4 ,now ,i shoe my feet with the toughest hides1 hard as iron2 no rock can cut them1 no branches can tear them4 ,yet more than one pair of these have ,i outworn1 and many more shall ,i outwear ere my journeys are ended4 ,and ,i think1 if ,god is gracious to me1 that ,i shall die wearing them4 ,better so than in a soft bed with silken coverings4 ,the boots of a warrior1 a hunter1 a woodsman1--these are my preparation of the gospel of peace4 ,come1 ,gregor1 he said1 laying his brown hand on the youth's shoulder1 come1 wear the forester's boots with me4 ,this is the life to which we are called4 ,be strong in the ,lord1 a hunter of the demons1 a subduer of the wilderness1 a woodsman of the faith4 ,come6 ,the boy's eyes sparkled4 ,he turned to his grandmother4 ,she shook her head vigorously4 ,nay1 father1 she said1 draw not the lad away from my side with these wild words4 ,i need him to help me with my labours1 to cheer my old age4 ,do you need him more than the ,master does8 asked ,winfried2 and will you take the wood that is fit for a bow to make a distaff8 ,but ,i fear for the child4 ,thy life is too hard for him4 ,he will perish with hunger in the woods4 ,once1 said ,winfried1 smiling1 we were camped by the bank of the river ,ohru4 ,the table was spread for the morning meal1 but my comrades cried that it was empty2 the provisions were exhausted2 we must go without breakfast1 and perhaps starve before we could escape from the wilderness4 ,while they complained1 a fish-hawk flew up from the river with flapping wings1 and let fall a great pike in the midst of the camp4 ,there was food enough and to spare4 ,never have ,i seen the righteous forsaken1 nor his seed begging bread4 ,but the fierce pagans of the forest1 cried the abbess1--they may pierce the boy with their arrows1 or dash out his brains with their axes4 ,he is but a child1 too young for the dangers of strife4 ,a child in years1 replied ,winfried1 but a man in spirit4 ,and if the hero must fall early in the battle1 he wears the brighter crown1 not a leaf withered1 not a flower fallen4 ,the aged princess trembled a little4 ,she drew ,gregor close to her side1 and laid her hand gently on his brown hair4 ,i am not sure that he wants to leave me yet4 ,besides1 there is no horse in the stable to give him1 now1 and he cannot go as befits the grandson of a king4 ,gregor looked straight into her eyes4 ,grandmother1 said he1 dear grandmother1 if thou wilt not give me a horse to ride with this man of ,god1 ,i will go with him afoot4 ,illustration--,the fields around lay bare to the moon4 ,,ii ,,the ,,trail ,,through ,,the ,,forest ,,ii ,two years had passed1 to a day1 almost to an hour1 since that ,christmas eve in the cloister of ,pfalzel4 ,a little company of pilgrims1 less than a score a men1 were creeping slowly northward through the wide forest that rolled over the hills of central ,germany4 ,at the head of the band marched ,winfried1 clad in a tunic of fur1 with his long black robe girt high about his waist1 so that it might not hinder his stride4 ,his hunter's boots were crusted with snow4 ,drops of ice sparkled like jewels along the thongs that bound his legs4 ,there was no other ornament to his dress except the bishop's cross hanging on his breast1 and the broad silver clasp that fastened his cloak about his neck4 ,he carried a strong1 tall staff in his hand1 fashioned at the top into the form of a cross4 ,close beside him1 keeping step like a familiar comrade1 was the young ,prince ,gregor4 ,long marches through the wilderness had stretched his limbs and broadened his back1 and made a man of him in stature as well as in spirit4 ,his jacket and cap were of wolfskin1 and on his shoulder he carried an axe1 with broad1 shining blade4 ,he was a mighty woodsman now1 and could make a spray of chips fly around him as he hewed his way through the trunk of spruce-tree4 ,behind these leaders followed a pair of teamsters1 guiding a rude sledge1 loaded with food and the equipage of the camp1 and drawn by two big1 shaggy horses1 blowing thick clouds of steam from their frosty nostrils4 ,tiny icicles hung from the hairs on their lips4 ,their flanks were smoking4 ,they sank above the fetlocks at every step in the soft snow4 ,last of all came the rear guard1 armed with bows and javelins4 ,it was no child's play1 in those days1 to cross ,europe afoot4 ,the weird woodland1 sombre and illimitable1 covered hill and vale1 tableland and mountain-peak4 ,there were wide moors where the wolves hunted in packs as if the devil drove them1 and tangled thickets where the lynx and the boar made their lairs4 ,fierce bears lurked among the rocky passes1 and had not yet learned to fear the face of man4 ,the gloomy recesses of the forest gave shelter to inhabitants who were still more cruel and dangerous than beasts of prey1--outlaws and sturdy robbers and mad were-wolves and bands of wandering pillagers4 ,the pilgrim who would pass from the mouth of the ,tiber to the mouth of the ,rhine must travel with a little army of retainers1 or else trust in ,god and keep his arrows loose in the quiver4 ,the travellers were surrounded by an ocean of trees1 so vast1 so full of endless billows1 that it seemed to be pressing on every side to overwhelm them4 ,gnarled oaks1 with branches twisted and knotted as if in rage1 rose in groves like tidal waves4 ,smooth forests of beech-trees1 round and gray1 swept over the knolls and slopes of land in a mighty ground-swell4 ,but most of all1 the multitude of pines and firs1 innumerable and monotonous1 with straight1 stark trunks1 and branches woven together in an unbroken ,hood of darkest green1 crowded through the valleys and over the hills1 rising on the highest ridges into ragged crests1 like the foaming edge of breakers4 ,through this sea of shadows ran a narrow stream of shining whiteness1--an ancient ,roman road1 covered with snow4 ,it was as if some great ship had ploughed through the green ocean long ago1 and left behind it a thick1 smooth wake of foam4 ,along this open track the travellers held their way1--heavily1 for the drifts were deep2 warily1 for the hard winter had driven many packs of wolves down from the moors4 ,the steps of the pilgrims were noiseless2 but the sledges creaked over the dry snow1 and the panting of the horses throbbed through the still1 cold air4 ,the pale-blue shadows on the western side of the road grew longer4 ,the sun1 declining through its shallow arch1 dropped behind the tree-tops4 ,darkness followed swiftly1 as if it had been a bird of prey waiting for this sign to swoop down upon the world4 ,father1 said ,gregor to the leader1 surely this day's march is done4 ,it is time to rest1 and eat1 and sleep4 ,if we press onward now1 we cannot see our steps2 and will not that be against the word of the psalmist ,david1 who bids us not to put confidence in the legs of a man8 ,winfried laughed4 ,nay1 my son ,gregor1 said he1 thou hast tripped1 even now1 upon thy text4 ,for ,david said only1 ',i take no pleasure in the legs of a man4' ,and so say ,i1 for ,i am not minded to spare thy legs or mine1 until we come farther on our way1 and do what must be done this night4 ,draw the belt tighter1 my son1 and hew me out this tree that is fallen across the road1 for our campground is not here4 ,the youth obeyed2 two of the foresters sprang to help him2 and while the soft fir-wood yielded to the stroke of the axes1 and the snow flew from the bending branches1 ,winfried turned and spoke to his followers in a cheerful voice1 that refreshed them like wine4 ,courage1 brothers1 and forward yet a little6 ,the moon will light us presently1 and the path is plain4 ,well know ,i that the journey is weary2 and my own heart wearies also for the home in ,england1 where those ,i love are keeping feast this ,christmas eve4 ,but we have work to do before we feast to-night4 ,for this is the ,yuletide1 and the heathen people of the forest have gathered at the thunder-oak of ,geismar to worship their god1 ,thor4 ,strange things will be seen there1 and deeds which make the soul black4 ,but we are sent to lighten their darkness2 and we will teach our kinsmen to keep a ,christmas with us such as the woodland has never known4 ,forward1 then1 and let us stiffen up our feeble knees6 ,a murmur of assent came from the men4 ,even the horses seemed to take fresh heart4 ,they flattened their backs to draw the heavy loads1 and blew the frost from their nostrils as they pushed ahead4 ,the night grew broader and less oppressive4 ,a gate of brightness was opened secretly somewhere in the sky2 higher and higher swelled the clear moon-flood1 until it poured over the eastern wall of forest into the road4 ,a drove of wolves howled faintly in the distance1 but they were receding1 and the sound soon died away4 ,the stars sparkled merrily through the stringent air2 the small1 round moon shone like silver2 little breaths of the dreaming wind wandered whispering across the pointed fir-tops1 as the pilgrims toiled bravely onward1 following their clue of light through a labyrinth of darkness4 ,after a while the road began to open out a little4 ,there were spaces of meadow-land1 fringed with alders1 behind which a boisterous river ran1 clashing through spears of ice4 ,rude houses of hewn logs appeared in the openings1 each one casting a patch of inky blackness upon the snow4 ,then the travellers passed a larger group of dwellings1 all silent and unlighted2 and beyond1 they saw a great house1 with many outbuildings and enclosed courtyards1 from which the hounds bayed furiously1 and a noise of stamping horses came from the stalls4 ,but there was no other sound of life4 ,the fields around lay bare to the moon4 ,they saw no man1 except that once1 on a path that skirted the farther edge of a meadow1 three dark figures passed by1 running very swiftly4 ,then the road plunged again into a dense thicket1 traversed it1 and climbing to the left1 emerged suddenly upon a glade1 round and level except at the northern side1 where a swelling hillock was crowned with a huge oak-tree4 ,it towered above the heath1 a giant with contorted arms1 beckoning to the host of lesser trees4 ,here1 cried ,winfried1 as his eyes flashed and his hand lifted his heavy staff1 here is the ,thunder-oak2 and here the cross of ,christ shall break the hammer of the false god ,thor4 ,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 oak3 torn and faded banners of the departed summer4 ,the bright crimson of autumn had long since disappeared1 bleached away by the storms and the cold4 ,but to-night these tattered remnants of glory were red again3 ancient bloodstains against the dark-blue sky4 ,for an immense fire had been kindled in front of the tree4 ,tongues of ruddy flame1 fountains of ruby sparks1 ascended through the spreading limbs and flung a fierce illumination upward and around4 ward and around4 ,the pale1 pure moonlight that bathed the surrounding forests was quenched and eclipsed here4 ,not a beam of it sifted down-ward through the branches of the oak4 ,it stood like a pillar of cloud between the still light of heaven and the crackling1 flashing fire of earth4 ,but the fire itself was invisible to ,winfried and his companions4 ,a great throng of people were gathered around it in a half-circle1 their backs to the open glade1 their faces towards the oak4 ,seen against that glowing background1 it was but the silhouette of a crowd1 vague1 black1 formless1 mysterious4 ,the travellers paused for a moment at the edge of the thicket1 and took counsel together4 ,it is the assembly of the tribe1 said one of the foresters1 the great night of the council4 ,i heard of it three days ago1 as we passed through one of the villages4 ,all who swear by the old gods have been summoned4 ,they will sacrifice a steed to the god of war1 and drink blood1 and eat horse-flesh to make them strong4 ,it will be at the peril of our lives if we approach them4 ,at least we must hide the cross1 if we would escape death4 ,hide me no cross1 cried ,winfried1 lifting his staff1 for ,i have come to show it1 and to make these blind folk see its power4 ,there is more to be done here to-night than the slaying of a steed1 and a greater evil to be stayed than the shameful eating of meat sacrificed to idols4 ,i have seen it in a dream4 ,here the cross must stand and be our rede4 ,at his command the sledge was left in the border of the wood1 with two of the men to guard it1 and the rest of the company moved forward across the open ground4 ,they approached unnoticed1 for all the multitude were looking intently towards the fire at the foot of the oak4 ,then ,winfried's voice rang out1 ,hail1 ye sons of the forest6 ,a stranger claims the warmth of your fire in the winter night4 ,swiftly1 and as with a single motion1 a thousand eyes were bent upon the speaker4 ,the semicircle opened silently in the middle2 ,winfried entered with his followers2 it closed again behind them4 ,then1 as they looked round the curving ranks1 they saw that the hue of the assemblage was not black1 but white1--dazzling1 radiant1 solemn4 ,white1 the robes of the women clustered together at the points of the wide crescent2 white1 the glittering byrnies of the warriors standing in close ranks2 white1 the fur mantles of the aged men who held the central place in the circle2 white1 with the shimmer of silver ornaments and the purity of lamb's-wool1 the raiment of a little group of children who stood close by the fire2 white1 with awe and fear1 the faces of all who looked at them2 and over all the flickering1 dancing radiance of the flames played and glimmered like a faint1 vanishing tinge of blood on snow4 ,the only figure untouched by the glow was the old priest1 ,hunrad1 with his long1 spectral robe1 flowing hair and beard1 and dead-pale face1 who stood with his back to the fire and advanced slowly to meet the strangers4 ,who are you8 ,whence come you1 and what seek you here8 ,his voice was heavy and toneless as a muffled bell4 ,you kinsman am ,i1 of the ,german brotherhood1 answered ,winfried1 and from ,england1 beyond the sea1 have ,i come to bring you a greeting from that land1 and a message from the ,all-,father1 whose servant ,i am4 ,welcome1 then1 said ,hunrad1 welcome1 kinsman1 and be silent2 for what passes here is too high to wait1 and must be done before the moon crosses the middle heaven1 unless1 indeed1 thou hast some sign or token from the gods4 ,canst thou work miracles8 ,the question came sharply1 as if a sudden gleam of hope had flashed through the tangle of the old priest's mind4 ,but ,winfried's voice sank lower and a cloud of disappointment passed over his face as he replied3 ,nay1 miracles have ,i never wrought1 though ,i have heard of many2 but the ,all-,father has given no power to my hands save such as belongs to common man4 ,stand still1 then1 thou common man1 said ,hunrad1 scornfully1 and behold what the gods have called us hither to do4 ,this night is the death-night of the sun-god1 ,baldur the ,beautiful1 beloved of gods and men4 ,this night is the hour of darkness and the power of winter1 of sacrifice and mighty fear4 ,this night the great ,thor1 the god of thunder and war1 to whom this oak is sacred1 is grieved for the death of ,baldur1 and angry with this people because they have forsaken his worship4 ,long is it since an offering has been laid upon his altar1 long since the roots of his holy tree have been fed with blood4 ,therefore its leaves have withered before the time1 and its boughs are heavy with death4 ,therefore the ,slavs and the ,wends have beaten us in battle4 ,therefore the harvests have failed1 and the wolf-hordes have ravaged the folds1 and the strength has departed from the bow1 and the wood of the spear has broken1 and the wild boar has slain the huntsman4 ,therefore the plague has fallen on our dwellings1 and the dead are more than the living in all our villages4 ,answer me1 ye people1 are not these things true8 ,a hoarse sound of approval ran through the circle4 ,a chant1 in which the voices of the men and women blended1 like the shrill wind in the pine-trees above the rumbling thunder of a waterfall1 rose and fell in rude cadences4 ,o ,thor1 the ,thunderer1 ,mighty and merciless1 ,spare us from smiting6 ,heave not thy hammer1 ,angry1 against us2 ,plague not thy people4 ,take from our treasure ,richest of ransom4 ,silver we send thee1 ,jewels and javelins1 ,goodliest garments1 ,all our possessions1 ,priceless1 we proffer4 ,sheep will we slaughter1 ,steeds will we sacrifice2 ,bright blood shall bathe thee1 ,o tree of ,thunder1 ,life-floods shall lave thee1 ,strong wood of wonder4 ,mighty1 have mercy1 ,smite us no more1 ,spare us and save us1 ,spare us1 ,thor6 ,thor6 ,with two great shouts the song ended1 and a stillness followed so intense that the crackling of the fire was heard distinctly4 ,the old priest stood silent for a moment4 ,his shaggy brows swept down over his eyes like ashes quenching flame4 ,then he lifted his face and spoke4 ,none of these things will please the god4 ,more costly is the offering that shall cleanse your sin1 more precious the crimson dew that shall send new life into this holy tree of blood4 ,thor claims your dearest and your noblest gift4 ,hunrad moved nearer to the handful of children who stood watching the red mines in the fire and the swarms of spark-serpents darting upward4 ,they had heeded none of the priest's words1 and did not notice now that he approached them1 so eager were they to see which fiery snake would go highest among the oak branches4 ,foremost among them1 and most intent on the pretty game1 was a boy like a sunbeam1 slender and quick1 with blithe brown eyes and laughing lips4 ,the priest's hand was laid upon his shoulder4 ,the boy turned and looked up in his face4 ,here1 said the old man1 with his voice vibrating as when a thick rope is strained by a ship swinging from her moorings1 here is the chosen one1 the eldest son of the ,chief1 the darling of the people4 ,hearken1 ,bernhard1 wilt thou go to ,valhalla1 where the heroes dwell with the gods1 to bear a message to ,thor8 ,the boy answered1 swift and clear3 ,yes1 priest1 ,i will go if my father bids me4 ,is it far away8 ,shall ,i run quickly8 ,must ,i take my bow and arrows for the wolves8 ,the boy's father1 the ,chieftain ,gundhar1 standing among his bearded warriors1 drew his breath deep1 and leaned so heavily on the handle of his spear that the wood cracked4 ,and his wife1 ,irma1 bending forward from the ranks of women1 pushed the golden hair from her forehead with one hand4 ,the other dragged at the silver chain about her neck until the rough links pierced her flesh1 and the red drops fell unheeded on the snow of her breast4 ,a sigh passed through the crowd1 like the murmur of the forest before the storm breaks4 ,yet no one spoke save ,hunrad3 ,yes1 my ,prince1 both bow and spear shalt thou have1 for the way is long1 and thou art a brave huntsman4 ,but in darkness thou must journey for a little space1 and with eyes blindfolded4 ,fearest thou8 ,naught fear ,i1 said the boy1 neither darkness1 nor the great bear1 nor the were-wolf4 ,for ,i am ,gundhar's son1 and the defender of my folk4 ,then the priest led the child in his raiment of lamb's-wool to a broad stone in front of the fire4 ,he gave him his little bow tipped with silver1 and his spear with shining head of steel4 ,he bound the child's eyes with a white cloth1 and bade him kneel beside the stone with his face to the east4 ,unconsciously the wide arc of spectators drew inward toward the centre1 as the ends of the bow draw together when the cord is stretched4 ,winfried moved noiselessly until he stood close behind the priest4 ,the old man stooped to lift a black hammer of stone from the ground1--the sacred hammer of the god ,thor4 ,summoning all the strength of his withered arms1 he swung it high in the air4 ,it poised for an instant above the child's fair head--then turned to fall4 ,one keen cry shrilled out from where the women stood3 ,me6 take me6 not ,bernhard6 ,the flight of the mother towards her child was swift as the falcon's swoop4 ,but swifter still was the hand of the deliverer4 ,winfried's heavy staff thrust mightily against the hammer's handle as it fell4 ,sideways it glanced from the old man's grasp1 and the black stone1 striking on the altar's edge1 split in twain4 ,a shout of awe and joy rolled along the living circle4 ,the branches of the oak shivered4 ,the flames leaped higher4 ,as the shout died away the people saw the lady ,irma1 with her arms clasped round her child1 and above them1 on the altar-stone1 ,winfried1 his face shining like the face of an angel4 ,illustration--,then ,winfried told the story of ,bethlehem ,,iv ,,the ,,felling ,,of ,,the ,,tree ,,iv ,a swift mountain-flood rolling down its channel2 a huge rock tumbling from the hill-side and falling in mid-stream2 the baffled waters broken and confused1 pausing in their flow1 dash high against the rock1 foaming and murmuring1 with divided impulse1 uncertain whether to turn to the right or the left4 ,even so ,winfried's bold deed fell into the midst of the thoughts and passions of the council4 ,they were at a standstill4 ,anger and wonder1 reverence and joy and confusion surged through the crowd4 ,they knew not which way to move3 to resent the intrusion of the stranger as an insult to their gods1 or to welcome him as the rescuer of their darling prince4 ,the old priest crouched by the altar1 silent4 ,conflicting counsels troubled the air4 ,let the sacrifice go forward2 the gods must be appeased4 ,nay1 the boy must not die2 bring the chieftain's best horse and slay it in his stead2 it will be enough2 the holy tree loves the blood of horses4 ,not so1 there is a better counsel yet2 seize the stranger whom the gods have led hither as a victim and make his life pay the forfeit of his daring4 ,the withered leaves on the oak rustled and whispered overhead4 ,the fire flared and sank again4 ,the angry voices clashed against each other and fell like opposing waves4 ,then the chieftain ,gundhar struck the earth with his spear and gave his decision4 ,all have spoken1 but none are agreed4 ,there is no voice of the council4 ,keep silence now1 and let the stranger speak4 ,his words shall give us judgment1 whether he is to live or to die4 ,winfried lifted himself high upon the altar1 drew a roll of parchment from his bosom1 and began to read4 ,a letter from the great ,bishop of ,rome1 who sits on a golden throne1 to the people of the forest1 ,hessians and ,thuringians1 ,franks and ,saxons4 ,in nomine ,domini1 sanctae et individuae trinitatis1 amen6 ,a murmur of awe ran through the crowd4 ,it is the sacred tongue of the ,romans3 the tongue that is heard and understood by the wise men of every land4 ,there is magic in it4 ,listen6 ,winfried went on to read the letter1 translating it into the speech of the people4 ',we have sent unto you our ,brother ,boniface1 and appointed him your bishop1 that he may teach you the only true faith1 and baptize you1 and lead you back from the ways of error to the path of salvation4 ,hearken to him in all things like a father4 ,bow your hearts to his teaching4 ,he comes not for earthly gain1 but for the gain of your souls4 ,depart from evil works4 ,worship not the false gods1 for they are devils4 ,offer no more bloody sacrifices1 nor eat the flesh of horses1 but do as our ,brother ,boniface commands you4 ,build a house for him that he may dwell among you1 and a church where you may offer your prayers to the only living ,god1 the ,almighty ,king of ,heaven4' ,it was a splendid message3 proud1 strong1 peaceful1 loving4 ,the dignity of the words imposed mightily upon the hearts of the people4 ,they were quieted as men who have listened to a lofty strain of music4 ,tell us1 then1 said ,gundhar1 what is the word that thou bringest to us from the ,almighty4 ,what is thy counsel for the tribes of the woodland on this night of sacrifice8 ,this is the word1 and this is the counsel1 answered ,winfried4 ,not a drop of blood shall fall to-night1 save that which pity has drawn from the breast of your princess1 in love for her child4 ,not a life shall be blotted out in the darkness tonight2 but the great shadow of the tree which hides you from the light of heaven shall be swept away4 ,for this is the birth-night of the white ,christ1 son of the ,all-,father1 and ,saviour of mankind4 ,fairer is ,he than ,baldur the ,beautiful1 greater than ,odin the ,wise1 kinder than ,freya the ,good4 ,since ,he has come to earth the bloody sacrifices must cease4 ,the dark ,thor1 on whom you vainly call1 is dead4 ,deep in the shades of ,niffelheim he is lost forever4 ,his power in the world is broken4 ,will you serve a helpless god8 ,see1 my brothers1 you call this tree his oak4 ,does he dwell here8 ,does he protect it8 ,a troubled voice of assent rose from the throng4 ,the people stirred uneasily4 ,women covered their eyes4 ,hunrad lifted his head and muttered hoarsely1 ,thor6 take vengeance6 ,thor6 ,winfried beckoned to ,gregor4 ,bring the axes1 thine and one for me4 ,now1 young woodsman1 show thy craft6 ,the king-tree of the forest must fall1 and swiftly1 or all is lost6 ,the two men took their places facing each other1 one on each side of the oak4 ,their cloaks were flung aside1 their heads bare4 ,carefully they felt the ground with their feet1 seeking a firm grip of the earth4 ,firmly they grasped the axe-helves and swung the shining blades4 ,tree-god6 cried ,winfried1 art thou angry8 ,thus we smite thee6 ,tree-god6 answered ,gregor1 art thou mighty8 ,thus we fight thee6 ,clang6 clang6 the alternate strokes beat time upon the hard1 ringing wood4 ,the axe-heads glittered in their rhythmic flight1 like fierce eagles circling about their quarry4 ,the broad flakes of wood flew from the deepening gashes in the sides of the oak4 ,the huge trunk quivered4 ,there was a shuddering in the branches4 ,then the great wonder of ,winfried's life came to pass4 ,out of the stillness of the winter night1 a mighty rushing noise sounded overhead4 ,was it the ancient gods on their white battle-steeds1 with their black hounds of wrath and their arrows of lightning1 sweeping through the air to destroy their foes8 ,a strong1 whirling wind passed over the tree-tops4 ,it gripped the oak by its branches and tore it from its roots4 ,backward it fell1 like a ruined tower1 groaning and crashing as it split asunder in four great pieces4 ,winfried let his axe drop1 and bowed his head for a moment in the presence of almighty power4 ,then he turned to the people1 ,here is the timber1 he cried1 already felled and split for your new building4 ,on this spot shall rise a chapel to the true ,god and his servant ,st4 ,peter4 ,and here1 said he1 as his eyes fell on a young fir-tree1 standing straight and green1 with its top pointing towards the stars1 amid the divided ruins of the fallen oak1 here is the living tree1 with no stain of blood upon it1 that shall be the sign of your new worship4 ,see how it points to the sky4 ,let us call it the tree of the ,christ-child4 ,take it up and carry it to the chieftain's hall4 ,you shall go no more into the shadows of the forest to keep your feasts with secret rites of shame4 ,you shall keep them at home1 with laughter and song and rites of love4 ,the thunder-oak has fallen1 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 ,christ4 ,so they took the little fir from its place1 and carried it in joyous procession to the edge of the glade1 and laid it on the sledge4 ,the horses tossed their heads and drew their load bravely1 as if the new burden had made it lighter4 ,when they came to the house of ,gundhar1 he bade them throw open the doors of the hall and set the tree in the midst of it4 ,they kindled lights among the branches until it seemed to be tangled full of fire-flies4 ,the children encircled it1 wondering1 and the sweet odour of the balsam filled the house4 ,then ,winfried stood beside the chair of ,gundhar1 on the dais at the end of the hall1 and told the story of ,bethlehem2 of the babe in the manger1 of the shepherds on the hills1 of the host of angels and their midnight song4 ,all the people listened1 charmed into stillness4 ,but the boy ,bernhard1 on ,irma's knee1 folded by her soft arm1 grew restless as the story lengthened1 and began to prattle softly at his mother's ear4 ,mother1 whispered the child1 why did you cry out so loud1 when the priest was going to send me to ,valhalla8 ,oh1 hush1 my child1 answered the mother1 and pressed him closer to her side4 ,mother1 whispered the boy again1 laying his finger on the stains upon her breast1 see1 your dress is red6 ,what are these stains8 ,did some one hurt you8 ,the mother closed his mouth with a kiss4 ,dear1 be still1 and listen6 ,the boy obeyed4 ,his eyes were heavy with sleep4 ,but he heard the last words of ,winfried as he spoke of the angelic messengers1 flying over the hills of ,judea and singing as they flew4 ,the child wondered and dreamed and listened4 ,suddenly his face grew bright4 ,he put his lips close to ,irma's cheek again4 ,oh1 mother6 he whispered very low1 do not speak4 ,do you hear them8 ,those angels have come back again4 ,they are singing now behind the tree4 ,and some say that it was true2 but others say that it was only ,gregor and his companions at the lower end of the hall1 chanting their ,christmas hymn3 ,all glory be to ,god on high1 ,and to the earth be peace6 ,good-will1 henceforth1 from heaven to men ,begin1 and never cease4