They say it is the oldest, and who knows that it is not? I will tell you
the story as it was told to me, and you shall see what you think of it.
There is a funny old town in Germany called Hildesheim, a little out of
the way of travellers, but full of curious and interesting things, and
over its fine cathedral walls climbs a rose-bush so large and strong
that it may well be a thousand years old, as they say it is.
"A thousand years ago," said the sacristan, "the country all about here
was a forest."
If you have studied history, you will see the story may be true so far,
for you know Charlemagne became Emperor of Germany in A.D. 800, and that
Germany was little better than a wilderness then.
"One day," continued the sacristan, "Louis the Gentle, the son of
Charlemagne, went hunting with all his retinue in this forest. They had
with them a box of relics."
Relics, you must know, were pieces of the dress of martyrs and saints,
or something that martyrs and saints had touched in their lifetime, or
perhaps even the bones of martyrs and saints.
"When they encamped for dinner, the gentle Louis wished to put this box
of relics away very carefully, and looking about, he saw a beautiful
blooming rose-bush, which must have been quite large even then, as he
concealed the box in its branches.
"Perhaps they hurried away in pursuit of game after dinner, or perhaps
they ate too much, and, as often happens in such a case, they forgot to
be as religious as they were before dinner. However it was, at all
events they rode away without the relics, and never missed them till the
next day.
"Then Louis was full of shame, and declared they must ride back again,
and never give up searching till they found the box.
"So they rode for many a weary hour, searching the by-ways of the
forest--for there were few roads--till at last they all suddenly
stopped, full of awe and wonder.
"It was a beautiful June day, and the birds were singing, and the
flowers were blooming; but, lo! just before them they saw a glade in the
forest where the fresh white snow lay like a soft thick carpet over
everything.
"And yet it did not cover everything either. For in the centre of the
glade grew a lovely rose-bush, with hundreds of bright blossoms upon it,
and this was the bush in which the box had been hidden. Louis hastened
forward, and grasped the box; but, lo! here was another miracle: it had
grown into the wood of the rose-bush so firmly that it could not be
taken away.
"Then Louis fell on his knees, and said he would receive this as a sign,
and he vowed to build a cathedral on the spot.
"They called the snow 'holy snow,' because it had hidden the ugly
remnants of their feast with its purity, but had left the rose-bush
free, and they named the cathedral and the town which sprang up about it
Hildesheim, which in old, old German meant 'holy snow.'"
It is certainly an enormous rose-bush, and its roots grow wide under the
cathedral. Over them, in the crypt, is an altar said to be of pure
silver, and it looks as if it might be. On the altar are heaped great
bunches of artificial roses, which they persuade the ignorant peasants
are actual blossoms of the rose-bush itself, even when it is leafless
and bare in the winter.
I can not say that all the sacristan's story is true, but I know that
the rose-bush of Hildesheim is the largest one I ever saw, and that the
town is a very old place. Indeed, a few years ago, some wonderful gold
and silver vessels were dug up there, which must have been used by an
almost forgotten race. If any of you live near Washington, you can see
copies of them in the Smithsonian Institution.