Pine Needles

by Hildegard G. Frey

  CHAPTER VI.

  One expects steady weather in October; so it was really notextraordinary that the next morning should break fair and quiet, with asunny haze lying over the river. Nevertheless, Maggie rejoiced.

  "What a pleasant day we had yesterday!" she exclaimed, as the party satat breakfast.

  "Are not all your days pleasant?" said Meredith.

  "Yes, but yesterday was uncommon. O Ditto! we didn't look at the maplast night!"

  "We were looking at stones."

  "Yes, but we must look at the map after breakfast. I want to find allthose places."

  "Take time," said Meredith, "and eat your breakfast. Lueneburg heath willnot run away."

  But, after breakfast, indeed, the great atlas was fetched out to thesunny terrace in front of the house and laid on a settee, and Maggie andMeredith sat down before the map of Germany with business faces.

  "Now, here is the Elbe," said Maggie, "it is big enough to be seen; hereis the mouth of it, just in a corner under Denmark, where those shipswent from."

  "What ships?"

  "Why, the ships in which the Saxons went over to England--the Saxonsthat conquered England, Meredith."

  "You do remember," said Meredith smiling. "It is worth while reading toyou."

  "They sailed from the mouths of the Elbe and the Weser--and here is theWeser. The mouths are pretty near together. Now, between the Elbe andthe Weser were--which Saxons, Ditto?"

  "Towards the Elbe and beyond it were the Eastphalians; those our storybelongs to, among whom Landolf went."

  "Well, here is the Aller, Ditto! they lived _there_, you know; that ispretty far west. And here is Hermannsburg! Oh, I am glad we have foundthat. And here is Lueneburg--all over here, I suppose. I suppose wecouldn't find the stone-houses, Ditto?"

  "I suppose not. But here is Verden on the Aller, Maggie, whereCharlemagne had those 4500 Saxons hewed to pieces. And here areOsnabrueck and Detmold, where the Saxons beat him again, and took the4000 captives that they slew at the stone-houses."

  "Horrid Charlemagne!"

  "It was all horrid, what concerned the fighting. But here is Minden,Maggie, from which good Landolf set out in his little boat, and droppeddown the Weser to go to the East Saxons."

  "And, then, when he got to the Aller he went up _that_; then he had torow hard, I guess."

  "I guess he did a good deal of hard rowing, first and last, Maggie."

  "Then to get to the stone-houses he went further up the Aller and turnedinto the Oerze. Here is the Oerze! Then the stone-houses must besomewhere hereabouts, Ditto; for they are not very far fromHermannsburg."

  "There is the little river Wieze, Maggie; and here, where it flows intothe Oerze, was that oak wood, sacred to Thor, where the village of Muedennow is. And here is the village of Munster where Freija was honoured.All over the land, then, it was wild country, woods and morasses. Andnow--think what Germany is!"

  "What is it, Ditto?"

  "It is the land of Thought, and Art, and Learning, and Criticism."

  "Look here!" broke in a lively voice behind them. "Do you know the sunis getting up in the sky? and we have settled nothing. And here are twoheads over a map!"

  "It would not hurt a third head," said Meredith. "And Maggie and I havesettled a good deal, thank you."

  "But where are we going to-day?"

  "Yes," added Esther behind, "where are we going? I think it is time tobe getting ready, because it takes us a good while."

  "Esther," said Maggie, "Fairbairn and the men are going over to the pineterrace to cut down some trees papa wants cut; let us go there and havea big bonfire, and then Ditto will have plenty of coals for his friar'somelet."

  "Betsey is making us a chicken pie."

  "Well, the omelet will do no harm besides."

  "No. It is a good way over to the pine terrace."

  "I don't care how far it is. So much the better. It is nice walking. Doyou care, Flora?"

  "She don't care," said Meredith. "Come, let us load up. If we have ajourney before us, best be about it."

  "And then, Esther," Maggie went on, "we can go to the Lookout rock toread."

  "It will be sunny there."

  "Well, it's all nice on the pine terrace, and we can find plenty ofshade. Now, then, Ditto--if you'll bring up the waggon."

  The business of loading-up began. There were always some varieties everytime. To-day a basket of sweet potatoes formed one item, going to beroasted in the great fire-heap which would be left from the bonfire. Agreat chicken pie, fresh and hot, was carefully wrapped up and put in.Meredith provided a hatchet to trim branches with. Worsted work andafghan, of course; but the only book was in Meredith's pocket. The cartwas quite loaded when all was done; for you know, cups and saucers andplates weigh heavy, if you put enough of them together, and the chickenpie in the dish was a matter of a good many pounds, and potatoes areheavy, too. Somebody had to carry the bottle of cream, and Fairbairnwent laden with a pail of water.

  The day was just another like the day before, but the direction of thewalk was different. The party turned to the left instead of to theright, and leaving the flower-beds and shrubbery, entered a prettywinding road which curled about through a grove of red cedars. The airwas spicy, dry and warm. A soft, rather thick, haze filled the air,turning the whole world into a sort of fairy land. The hills lookedmisty, the river still and dreamy; outlines were softened, colours weregrown tender. The happy little party, it is true, gave not much heed tothis bewitchment of nature, with the one exception of Meredith; Floraand Esther were in a contented state of practical well-being which hadno sentiment in it; Maggie and her dog were a pair for jocund spiritsand thoughtless delight-taking. They both went bounding about, very muchtaken up with each other; while Meredith pulled the cart steadily on andfeasted mentally on every step of the way. The road brought them soon tothe neighbourhood of the river again, and ran along a grassy bank whichsloped gently down to the edge of the water. The green sward was dottedwith columnar red cedars, growing to a height of thirty feet, with adiameter of two or two and a half all the way, straight as a pillar. Onthe other hand a low, rocky height grown with oaks and hemlocks overhungthe valley, and the rocky ridge seemed to sweep round to the front ofthem in a wide amphitheatre, giving a sky-line of variegated colour,soft and glowing under the haze. Travelling on, they got next into awood and lost the river. Here all was wild; the ground strewn with rockand encumbered with low growth of huckleberry bushes, brambles, andferns. The road, however, was good; and Meredith drew the cart withoutany difficulty. After a time the ground began to rise, for, in fact,they were approaching the further end of the rocky ridge beforementioned, where it swept round to the river. Midway of the height thehill shelved into a wide plateau or terrace; at the back of it thesharp, rocky hillside, in front of it a green slope leading down to theriver. The ground on the plateau was gravelly and poor; it gave footholdto little beside white and yellow pines, which in places stood thick, inother places parted and opened for spaces of mossy turf, where the tooshallow soil would not nourish them. Here, there was a wild wildernessof natural beauty. Now and then a lovely low-growing white pinespreading abroad its bluish-green branches; in other parts scraggy,tall-shooting specimens of the yellow variety; at the hill-foot and onthe rocky hillside golden hickories and brown oaks and flaunting maples.The turf was dry and warm, being in fact half moss; the openings andglades allured the party from one sweet resting spot into another.

  "We may as well stop here," said Flora at last. "We might go round andround all day, it is all so pretty. We must stop somewhere, if we are tohave any reading."

  "Let us go over yonder to the edge of the bank," said Meredith, "wherewe can have a view of the river."

  At the edge of the bank the cedars began to occupy the ground, andindeed hindered the view, but a few strokes of Fairbairn's axe set thatright, and the party sat down in the shade of some taller trees with alookout over the pretty conical cedars (not columnar here) down to thewater, and across to the gre
en and gold promontory which on the otherside of the river closed the view. The girls got out their work. Maggiesat down panting after a race with Rob Roy. Meredith lounged upon themossy bank and looked lazy. Presently the strokes of a couple of axesbegan to break the silence. One, two; one, two; one, two----

  "It only wanted that!" he exclaimed.

  "What!" said Esther.

  "That chopping. That ring of the axes. It completes the charm. This iselysium!"

  "We have got to make our bonfire!" said Maggie starting.

  "Wait,--not yet; they have not cut down a single tree yet. Hark! thereit goes, crashing down. They have got to trim it yet, Maggie, beforethere will be anything to burn."

  "And they must cut and trim a good many trees before there will beenough to begin," said Esther. "It is more fun to have plenty to pile onat once."

  "Then we shall wait a good while for our dinner," said Maggie.

  "Are you hungry? It is only half-past eleven."

  "No, I am not hungry yet, but a bonfire takes a good while, you know,and I want to get to the reading."

  "Come! we might read an hour," said Meredith rousing himself up.

  "No, Ditto, that would bring it to half-past twelve, and that wouldnever do."

  "Well, then, I will go trim, and we'll have the bonfire going in a fewminutes. Where will you have it?"

  Maggie sought out a good spot, while Meredith took his hatchet and wentto work, clearing the lopped branches of their smaller leafy twigs whichwere for the fire, and cutting in two the branches which were not worthtrimming. There was a nice piece of work then to drag them to thebonfire place, for it was needful to choose an open, free space formaking the fire, where the flames would not mount or be blown into thetops of trees that were to be left standing, and so scorch and injurethem. No such open space was at command in the close neighbourhood ofthe cutting, so the stuff for the fire had to be transported somedistance. Maggie and Meredith worked away at it, and Maggie calledEsther and Meredith summoned Flora to help; and soon they were allheartily engaged, and running to and fro with armfuls, or draggingbehind them on the ground the heavy umbrageous branches they might notcarry. Presently Meredith stopped and collected a little bunch of drysticks and leaves which he heaped together, tucked paper under, and laidcrisp hemlock and cedar cuttings on top. Then a match was kindled andfire applied. They all watched to see it, lighting, crackling,smoking,--then the slender upshoot of flame--and Meredith began to pileon pine branches thick and fast. At first rose a thick column of smoke,for the fuel was fat and resinous and the fire had not got under way.Redoubling, soft, black and brown reeking curls, through which the sunshot his beams here and there lighting them up to golden amber. "Whattints and what forms!" Meredith exclaimed. And then another light andanother colour began to come into the others; tiny up-darting shoots offire, another illumination rivalling and contrasting with the sunlightwhich struck the column higher up. Meredith stood still to watch it,while even Flora and Esther were dragging more branches of yellow pineto the fire and throwing them on emulously, till the pile grew and grew,and Maggie was working her cheeks into a purple state with herexertions. Half-a-dozen thick pine branches flung on, and the fire wouldbe stifled and the smoke rise thicker and blacker, with the sunlightalways catching the upper curls; then crackling and snapping andbreathing, the fire would get hold, get the better, mount through thethick, encumbering piney foliage, and dart its slender living spires upinto the column of smoke again.

  "Do see how he stands!" cried Flora. "Ditto, why don't you work?"

  "I am looking."

  "Did you never see a bonfire before?"

  "Never such a beauty of a one."

  "Beauty!" said Flora, coming to his side to look--"where is the beauty?It is just a good fire. You are a ridiculous boy, Meredith. Go to work."

  "Oh, don't you think it is pretty?" cried Maggie, throwing down her lastburden and panting. "I think it is _lovely_! And do you smell how sweetit is, Flora?"

  "She is a poor girl without nose or eyes," said Meredith. "Well, heregoes!"

  Taking hold of the work again, his powerful arms flung the branches andtops of pine on the burning heap, while the girls ran for more. It tooka strong arm now, for the fire was so large and so fierce that one couldnot come nigh it. Meredith kept the girls all at a distance and himselffed the flames, till all the present stock of fuel was laid on, and thewood-choppers went off to their dinner. There was no more to be donethen but to watch the show, and as the fire began to lessen and diedown, find a spot where the tea-kettle might be set, at the edge of theglowing heap. It was no use to begin to read, they all agreed, tillthey had their dinner. And soon the coffee could be made; and the fourenjoyed their meal as only those can who have worked for it. They hadtheir chicken pie and their roasted sweet potatoes, the omelet they forto-day dispensed with, being all tired. They took their dinner on thebank, there where they could look away down to the river and see thehilly shores beyond on the other side; and Meredith averred that sweetpotatoes never were so sweet before.

  "Such air!" said he; "and such colouring!"

  "And it is just warm enough," added Maggie.

  "Well, I have got cooled off now," said Flora, "but I consider feedingbonfires to be hot work."

  Then, when dinner was over, and the things packed into the cart, theyarranged themselves on the moss in a delicious feeling of resting andrefreshed langour; the girls took out their fancy work, and Meredithopened his book. Maggie, who did not trouble herself about fancy work,crept close to his side and looked with fascinated eyes at the strangecharacters out of which he brought such delightful things to her ears.

  "'It was about the year 940, according to the chronicle, that a boy ofthirteen or fourteen years old was herding his father's cattle on thewaste land not far from Hermannsburg, when there came along a splendidtrain of armed cavaliers riding their horses proudly. The boy looks withdelight on the shining helmets and coats of mail, the glittering spearsand the stately horsemen, and the thought rises in his heart--"Now thatlooks something like!" All of a sudden the horsemen quit the road, whichhere wound about crookedly, and come riding across country, over theopen land where he is keeping his cattle. That seems to him too bad, forthe field is no highway, and the ground belongs to his father. Heconsiders a moment, then goes forward to meet the riders, plants himselfin their course, and calls out to them--"Turn back! the road is yours,the field is mine." There is a tall man riding at the head of the troop,on whose brow a grave majesty is enthroned, he looks wonderingly at theboy who has dared to put himself in his way. He checks his horse, takinga certain pleasure in the spirited little fellow, who returns his lookso boldly and fearlessly and never budges from his place.

  "'"Who are you, boy?"

  "'"I am Hermann Billing's oldest son, and my name is Hermann too, andthis field is my father's, and you must not ride over it."

  "'"But I will, boy," answered the rider with threatening sternness. "Getout of the way, or I throw you down"--and with that he lifts his spear.The boy, however, stands fearlessly still, looks up at the horseman witheyes of fire and says--

  "'"Right is right; and you have no business to ride over this field, youshall ride over me if you do."

  "'"What do you know about the right, boy?"

  "'"My father is the Billing, and I shall be Billing after him," answeredthe boy, "and nobody may do a wrong before a Billing."

  "'Then still more threateningly the rider called out--"Is _this_ rightthen, boy, to refuse obedience to your king? I am your king, Otto."

  "'"You Otto? our king? the shield of Germany and the flower of theSaxons, that my father tells us so much about? Otto the son of Heinrichthe Saxon? No, that you are not. Otto the king guards the right, and youare doing the wrong. Otto don't do that, my father says."

  "'"Take me to your father, my good boy," answered the king, and anunwonted gentleness and kindliness beamed upon his stern face.

  "'"Yonder is my father's dwelling-house, you can see it," said Herman
n,"but my father has trusted the cattle here to me and I cannot leavethem, so I cannot bring you there. But if you are King Otto, turn offout of the field into the road, for the king guards the law."

  "'And King Otto the first, surnamed the Great, obeyed the boy's voice,for the boy was in the right, and rode back to the road. PresentlyHermann was fetched from the field. The king had gone into his father'shouse and had said to him, "Billing, give me your oldest son and let himgo with me, I will have him brought up at court, he is going to be atrue man, and I have need of true men." And what true Saxon could refuseanything to a king like Otto?

  "'So the brave boy was to journey forward with his king, and when Ottoasked him, "Hermann, will you go with me?" the boy answered gladly, "Iwill go with you; you are the king, for you protect the right."

  "'So King Otto took the boy along with him, that he might have himbrought up to be a faithful and capable servant of the crown. Otto wasallied in the bonds of warmest friendship with Adaldag, the archbishopof Bremen, a man who was distinguished for his learning, his piety, anda lively zeal for the spread of Christianity among the then heathenDanes and Norsemen. Otto could not confide the boy who had become sodear to him to a better teacher; and so he sent him to Adaldag atBremen. Adaldag, too, recognised the great gifts which God had bestowedon the boy, and had him instructed under his own eye by the most ableecclesiastics; among whom a certain _Raginbrand_ is especially named,who later was appointed to be bishop and preacher to the heathen inDenmark, and laboured there with great faithfulness and a greatblessing. In Bremen Hermann grew up to be a good young man, loving hisSaviour from his heart; but also he was instructed in the use of armsand in the business of the state, for Adaldag was at that time one ofKing Otto's most confidential advisers. And now Otto took the youngHermann into his court; and soon could perceive that he had not deceivedhimself when his acuteness discerned the boy's lofty nature. Spirit,daring, and keen intelligence shot in fire from the young man's blueeyes; his uncommonly fine figure had been grandly developed by knightlyexercises; and, with all that, he was so humble-hearted, and attached tohis benefactor with such grateful, touching devotion, that Otto's eyesrested on him with pleasure, and he often called Hermann his truestfriend, even called him "his son." But the loveliest thing in Hermannwas, that he never forgot his origin: he showed the most charmingkindness to those who were poor and mean; so that high and low at theking's court respected as much as they loved him. So he mounted fromstep to step, was dubbed a knight, attended the king on his journeys andcampaigns, and the king even intrusted to him the education of his twosons Wilhelm and Ludolf. Still later he administered the most importantoffices of state to the satisfaction of the king; and often travelledthrough the country of the Saxons as _Graf_, _i.e._, a judge.

  "'That is: The judgment of criminal cases, or the tribunal of life anddeath, in the whole German fatherland was vested in the king alone.Therefore at certain times the royal judges made a progress through theentire German country. They were called _Grawen_, from the word _graw_or _grau_' (that means, 'grey,' Maggie,) 'because ordinarily old,experienced, eminent men were chosen for the office. These courts forcases of life and death were holden by the Grafs under the open sky, inpublic, and in full daylight, so that the judgment pronounced could beat once carried into execution. Our chronicle takes this occasion torelate a story about our Hermann Billing, which sets in a clear lightthe pure character of this admirable man. In his journeyings as Graf, hecame also to his native place, to Harm's _ouden dorp_. It was then longafter his father's death; and as head of the family he had distributedhis seven manor-farms, as fiefs, partly to his brothers, partly to othernear relations. The great honours to which Hermann had been elevated hadbecome the ruin of these men; they behaved themselves proudly towardstheir neighbours, and even took unrighteous ways to enlarge theirboundaries, secure in the belief that no one would dare to call them inquestion about it, whilst they had such a powerful brother and kinsman.Now, when Hermann, after the accustomed fashion, was holding thecriminal court on the _Grawenberg_ (where now the _grauen_ farm lies,half an hour from Hermannsburg) there presented himself a certainConrad, a freiling, that is, a free man, and accused the holders ofHermann's fiefs, that they had by violent and unjust means taken fromhim half his farm and joined it to their own estates.

  "'Hermann's face, at other times so gentle and kind, grew dark, and withdeep sadness but with a lofty severity he ordered his brothers andkinsmen to be brought before him. Conrad's charge was proved to be true,for the Billings could not lie, even if they had done injustice. Andwhat did Hermann? When the acts of violence that his brothers andrelations had done were proved, great tears flowed down the cheeks ofthe tall strong man, and he cried out with a voice which his tears halfchoked, "Could you do that, and bear the name of Billing!" He said nomore, but was seen to fold his hands and pray with the greatestearnestness. Then he spoke: "My brothers and kinsmen, make your peacenow with God; we look upon each other for the last time. You are guiltyof death; you must die; you have doubly deserved death, because you areof the race of Billing."

  "'The priests, who were always in attendance on the tribunal of life anddeath where Hermann was the judge, came forward; in the grounds of thecourt they received the criminals' confession, and upon their penitentacknowledgment of their sin, gave them assurance of forgiveness and thenthe bread that represents the Lord's body. So, reconciled with God, theseven men came back to the place of judgment; and after Hermann hadagain prayed with them and commended the penitents to the Lord, he hadtheir heads struck off before his eyes.'"

  Meredith stopped perforce, for a storm of exclamations burst upon him."Horrible!" "Frightful!" "I never heard of such an awful man!"

  "I think he was rather an awful man," said Meredith. "I have no doubtall ill-doers would have held him in a good deal of awe."

  "But his own brothers!" said Esther.

  "They were convicted criminals, all the same."

  "But don't you think a man ought to spare his own!"

  "A man--yes. A judge--no."

  "But a judge is a man."

  "I should think it was very disagreeable for a man to be a judge," saidMeredith.

  "But why?" asked Flora. "I should think it was nice, just for thatreason, that a man could spare people he wanted to spare."

  "Flora Franklin!" exclaimed her brother. "Is that your idea of a judge?"

  "It is my idea of a man."

  "But don't you know better? A judge has no business to spare anybody,except the innocent; his duty is to see justice done--he has nothing todo with mercy."

  "Nothing to do with mercy! O Meredith!"

  "Not as a judge. He is put in his place to see the laws executed."

  "Then you think that dreadful old heathen you are reading about did_right_ to have his friends' heads struck off?"

  "I think he did just his duty."

  "Oh, _do_ you, Ditto?" cried Maggie.

  "He did not make the law, Maggie; he had only to see it obeyed. The lawwas terribly severe; but I think the judge was very tender."

  "O Ditto!"

  "He was what you call a true man. He was no heathen, Flora. But nothingwould make him budge from the right. I think he was magnificent. Iwonder how many men could be found nowadays who would be faithful toduty at such a cost."

  "You have strange notions of duty!" said his sister.

  "I am afraid you have imperfect notions of faithfulness."

  "Well, go on. I have no opinion of religion that is not kind."

  "The religion that is from above 'is _first_ pure, then peaceable,'"said Meredith.

  "Go on," said Flora. "I suppose you would cut my head off, if you werejudge, and I had done something you thought deserved it."

  "If the law said you deserved it. But I think I would give my head inthat case for yours, Flora. It would be easier."

  "What good would that do?"

  "Keep the law unbroken and save you. Well, I will go on with my story--

  "'When the sitting of
the court was ended he sent his retinue to findquarters in the other six of his manors, but he himself passed the nightat the principal manor-house on the Oerze, which he had himself built,called the _Bondenhof_, that is, the "peasant's manor;" for in old Saxon_Bond_ meant a free peasant. But what a night that was! Sleep never cameto his eyes; he passed that night and also the following day in prayingand fasting. When at last, by the Word of God and the talk of a faithfulpriest he had got some comfort, at least a little, he vowed to the Lordthat he would build a church on this manor, the "Bondenhof," whichshould be dedicated to the apostles Peter and Paul, like the first onebuilt by his forefathers at the Deep Moor, which in the course of timehad become far too small. And as with him to resolve and to do werealways the same thing, he did not quit the manor till he had laid thefoundation-stone of the new church and given order to have the buildingvigorously carried forward. That was in the year 958.

  "'By this deed of rigid, impartial justice, which nevertheless was foundin beautiful harmony with a tender and good heart, the honour in whichpeople held him was raised to such a point, that everywhere they carriedhim on their hands, and at his return to the royal court he was receivedwith wondering admiration. The great Otto folded him in his arms andcalled him his most faithful knight, who served his God and his kingwith equal fidelity.

  "'Soon thereafter followed Hermann's greatest elevation. Otto haddetermined, you must know, in the year 960, to take a journey intoItaly, in order to compose certain troubles which had arisen throughthe godless Pope John. But now his beloved Saxon country, out of whichOtto himself drew his origin, lay just in the north of Germany; and wasbordered on the north and north-east by the Danes and Sclaves, butrecently conquered, who indeed were in part nominally Christian, but inpart were still heathen, and the whole of them haters of Christianity.Who would take care of Christian Saxony in the king's absence, which itwas possible might last for years? Then Otto's eye fell upon thefaithful Hermann, and he had found his man. Hermann was appointed to thedukedom of Saxony, so that he might thus supply the king's place andgovern in his stead. When this was made known to the good ArchbishopAdaldag, who was to accompany the king in his journey to Rome, herejoiced aloud, and said to the king, "Now we can travel in peace andhave no care; for, O king, you can trust him with the land, and I cantrust him with my church; Hermann with God's help will protect churchand land both." And that is what the faithful man truly did. In thefollowing year the king really set out on his journey to Rome, andAdaldag went with him. Otto set up a stern tribunal in Rome, deposed thegodless Pope John, and made good Leo Pope. Five years Otto spent inItaly, and wherever he came he wrought righteousness and judgment,punished the wicked and relieved the innocent and oppressed; being sucha prince as Germany has had few. In the year 962 Otto was solemnlycrowned kaiser by Leo at Rome, and thus acknowledged as the earthly headof the whole Christian world. During all this time, the Saxons mightcount themselves happy that they had such a true and valiant duke inHermann. The Sclaves ventured again to make a marauding incursion,probably to try whether in Otto's absence they could not accomplishsomething. One tribe of the great Sclavic race, namely, the Wends, dweltnot on the other side of Elbe only, but also on this side, as far as theneighbourhood of Melzen. These Wends, on the hither side of the Elbe,reinforced by a strong party of their brethren from beyond the river,undertook a campaign against Saxony; for they themselves were stillheathen and therefore had a hatred against the Christians. This hatredwas all the stronger because the Saxons under Otto had vanquished them.In this campaign, so far as they went, they burnt and laid wasteeverything, and in especial their aim was directed against the churchesand chapels and Christian priests; the former were burned and levelledwith the ground, the latter were put to death in tortures. So it befellwith that first church which Landolf had built at the Deep Moor; it wasburned down and entirely destroyed. Eight priests, who served thischurch and the chapels lying in the neighbourhood, were slain, part ofthem at once, part of them were dragged to the Wendish idol altar inRadegast, not far from the Elbe, and there slaughtered in honour of theheathen god; those chapels were likewise destroyed. Hermann was justcome to Bremen when this news reached him. He rapidly gathered hiswarriors, came suddenly upon the robbing and plundering Wends at theso-called Huehnenburg, obliged them to flee with great loss, and pursuedthem without stay or respite into their own country; whereupon they suedfor peace, and promised they would keep quiet and accept the Christianreligion. He granted them peace, but went on to destroy their idoltemple in Radegast, and then returned in triumph home. He next appliedhis whole energy to repair the destruction which had been wrought, torebuild the churches and chapels, and establish priests in them. And thebetter to secure the land, and especially his own beloved inheritance,against the like predatory incursions, he built strong fortresses, as,for instance, the Hermannsburg' (_burg_ means a castle or fortress,Maggie), 'the Hermannsburg, around which now the people began to buildagain, who had fled away before the Wends; the Oerzenburg, theWiezenburg, &c.'"

  "Then _that_ is how so many names have come to end with 'burg,'" saidEsther.

  "Hermann did not build all the castles," said Meredith, "But yes--thatis very much how it has come. In those old Middle Ages, when the rightof the strongest was the only prevailing one, naturally there were agreat many castles built. Indeed all the nobles lived in castles, andmust. Just look at the pictures of the Rhine to see what the Middle Ageswere; see how the people had to perch their fortresses up on almostinaccessible peaks of rock, where it must have been terriblyinconvenient to live, one would think. I suppose people knew little ofwhat we call _conveniences_ in these days."

  "Then round the principal fortresses, naturally, the villages grew up,"said Flora. "They would cluster round the castles for protection."

  "Well, I never thought before that one could see the Middle Ages throughthe stereoscope," said Maggie.

  "Pretty fair," said Meredith. "Well, let us go on with Hermann. 'Throughhis unintermitting activity all was soon in blooming condition again,and no enemy dared to show himself any more. Before his end in the year972, he had the joy of seeing the church, the foundation-stone of whichhe had laid at the Bondenhof, consecrated on Peter and Paul's day. Thatis this same church which is still standing in Hermannsburg, and inwhich we hold divine service.'"

  "O Ditto! is _that_ church standing yet that Hermann built?"

  "And the very foundation-stone that Hermann laid is there to this day.I'd like to see it! We have nothing old in this country. Imagineattending a church that has stood for nine hundred years! He endowedthis church with a tenth, and gave almost the half of the fields andmeadows of the above-named manor to the Hermannsburger pastor.

  "'Of his remaining great deeds our chronicle says little; which isnatural, as it is and proposes to be only a Hermannsburg chronicle. Inthe year 973, the same year that his great friend and benefactor Ottodied, died also Hermann Billing, the freeman's son who had come to beDuke of Saxony. About his end the chronicle relates only that he wassick but a few days; that he wished for and received the Holy Supperbefore his death; admonished his son Benno, or Bernhard, who was hisheir: "My son, be true to your God and your kaiser, a protector to theChurch, and a father to your vassals;" laid his hands upon his head andblessed him; and then extended his hand to all his weeping servants whowere assembled, commended them to the grace of God; and at lastprayed--"Into Thy hands I commend my spirit; Thou hast redeemed me, LordGod of hosts." Then he softly fell asleep, and the same wonderfulsweetness which in life had given such a charm to his face, in death puta very glory around his brow.

  "'King Otto the second honoured the true man's memory by confirming hisson Bernhard, or Benno, as Duke of Saxony.'"