Baldur and the Golden Bough

Baldur and the Golden Bough

Amongst all the gods, Baldur was the most beloved. Son of Odin and Frigg, Baldur was brave, gentle, and handsome. He was the god of light and truth. But noble Baldur began to have troubled dreams. Every night he dreamt of his own death.

Baldur’s mother Frigg, who loved intensely her beautiful son, became very much alarmed. She made a list of all the things that could possibly hurt her darling Baldur, and then set out to secure oaths from all on her list that they would never harm her dearest son.

To the dwarvish deeps she went, and begged favour of the dwarves:
“Let not stone or steel, nor metal forged dare harm sweet Baldur’s hide!”
The dwarves looked deep into the secret earth, at the ropes and rivers of gold, the sparkling diamonds promising the wonders
of the night sky, and the thousand secret riches that Baldur had woven into the iron deeps when the world was new forged
and so they swore. To the birds of the air, the beasts of the field, the whales and fishes of the deep did she go and beg safety
for bright Baldur, and as each would look to the beauty Baldur had woven into their world, they would promise his protection.
From Yggdrasil and all lesser trees did Frigga then beg favour, and one by one they all swore Baldur’s weal for the beauty
he had given them.

-John T. Mainer, The Story of Mistletoe

Yet, Frigg had forgotten one. Small, young mistletoe had been overlooked, for he was not a true tree at all, but rather a mere appendage, a hanger-on, a parasite of the tree. And thus, he was forgotten.

Now nothing in all the worlds (with the exception of mistletoe) could harm Baldur, and Baldur’s friends made a great game of trying to hurt him with different objects. They would shoot arrows at him, thrust spears towards his heart, throw rocks at him, even let ferocious bears loose in his bedroom whilst he slept. But, since all had pledged to not harm brave Baldur, Baldur was always fine, and Baldur’s good nature allowed him to simply laugh at the antics of his friends.

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Baldur’s friends being jerks. By Elmer Boyd Smith [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Yet, there was another god named Loki, a trickster. Loki liked to stir-up trouble. He felt envious of beloved Baldur and set about trying to find a way to surprise him. Loki travelled the worlds looking for something that had not pledged Frigg’s oath and so might still harm Baldur.

One day, Loki climbed up high in an oak tree to survey the countryside for some thing or beast that Frigg had overlooked. It was up high in the tree that Loki found mistletoe and learned that mistletoe had not taken Frigg’s oath. So, Loki carefully bound together the many small branches of mistletoe and sharpened them into a single point.

This spear of mistletoe Loki brought to Odin’s court. There he found the young men of the court engaged in their now favorite game of throwing projectiles at the apparently immortal Baldur.

Loki approached Baldur’s blind brother, Hodr, who sat alone with his wine. “You must feel left out,” Loki said, “I will help you join in their game. Take this spear, and I will guide your hand in the direction of your brother, as you throw the spear.”

Loki put the spear in Hodr’s hand, helped him aim, and Hodr threw the spear at happy Baldur. The spear sailed through the air, and pierced unsuspecting Baldur through the heart. Unfortunate Baldur fell down dead.

All were now in grief of Baldur’s death, but none was as sorrowful as Frigg. Frigg went then to mistletoe and demanded retribution.

“Where Yuletide brings the pain of loss will Mistletoe bring love, beneath my humble leaves
let love be now kindled. What fairer grave goods for the sun bright lord than the promise
of love new kindled? When two now meet beneath my leaves, let loves kiss light between them.
Let the light of love remember him that the world weeps for this season.”

-John T. Mainer,  The Story of Mistletoe

And for all the centuries since the death of fair Baldur, we bring mistletoe into our homes each Yuletide, and kiss under it, so that loves blooms in the new year rather than destruction, and in memory of the god who loved light and truth, Baldur.

odin27s_last_words_to_baldr
Odin at his son’s funeral. By W.G. Collingwood (1854 – 1932) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

This story is adapted from similar ones that are part of Norse mythology. The quoted lines are from a beautiful poem by John T Mainer found here, where you can also here the author read his poem.

Mistletoe has long been recognized as a medicinal herb, back as far or even farther than the ancient Greeks. Mistletoe was used to treat epilepsy, internal hemorrhage, menstrual cramps, and urinary disorders, along with other afflictions.

Mistletoe’s symbolic, romantic, and seasonal character in England began with the Druids. The Druids saw evergreen mistletoe as a sign of the continuance of life (and fecundity) in the darkest part of the year. Near the solstice, when the signs were right, Druids would gather mistletoe. They would bring it into their homes, and also use it as a potency aid for both beast and human alike. The practice of bringing mistletoe into the home at the time of the winter solstice, and its use as fertility aid is clearly connected to the modern day practice of kissing under the mistletoe at Christmas.

mistleltoe_in_lebanon
Mistletoe, green and vigorous even in the heart of winter. Elie plus at en.wikipedia via wikimedia commons

Mistletoe grew to became an essential part of the Christmas season in England, being especially popular in Victorian England. The tradition is that a girl who stands under the mistletoe is fair game for kissing, and if she refuses, she will have bad luck the following year. Some also include the practice of picking one mistletoe berry for each kiss taken, and when the plant is bare, no more kissing! Dickens captured a fevered scene of Victorian bacchanal under the mistletoe as young women, “screamed and struggled, and ran into corners, and did everything but leave the room, until … they all at once found it useless to resist any longer and submitted to be kissed with a good grace.” (Dickens, Pickwick Papers)

Consent much, Dickens?

christmas-1800
Kissing under the mistletoe. The Mistletoe – A Christmas Tale, in the collection of the British Museum.

Personally, as an American, I actually don’t have any first hand experience with mistletoe. It is more a part of Christmas lore than a Christmas reality here and now, or maybe I’m just going to the wrong parties. Yet, it is still an essential element in films here, from Harry Potter to While You Were Sleeping, as well as Christmas music, from Bieber to I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus, and I understand it to be more in fashion in the U.K. still.

We’ve gone from Baldur to Bieber, and while I recommend Baldur over Bieber, I also recommend some consensual snogging under the mistletoe as opposed to stabbing someone through the heart with it.

Joyful Yuletide, ya’ll!

P.S. Enjoy this nice Longfellow poem about the death of Baldur, if you so desire:

Tegnér’s Drapa

I heard a voice, that cried,
“Balder the Beautiful
Is dead, is dead!”
And through the misty air
Passed like the mournful cry
Of sunward sailing cranes.

I saw the pallid corpse
Of the dead sun
Borne through the Northern sky.
Blasts from Niffelheim
Lifted the sheeted mists
Around him as he passed.

And the voice forever cried,
“Balder the Beautiful
Is dead, is dead!”
And died away
Through the dreary night,
In accents of despair.

Balder the Beautiful,
God of the summer sun,
Fairest of all the Gods!
Light from his forehead beamed,
Runes were upon his tongue,
As on the warrior’s sword.

All things in earth and air
Bound were by magic spell
Never to do him harm;
Even the plants and stones;
All save the mistletoe,
The sacred mistletoe!

Hoeder, the blind old God,
Whose feet are shod with silence,
Pierced through that gentle breast
With his sharp spear, by fraud
Made of the mistletoe,
The accursed mistletoe!

They laid him in his ship,
With horse and harness,
As on a funeral pyre.
Odin placed
A ring upon his finger,
And whispered in his ear.

They launched the burning ship!
It floated far away
Over the misty sea,
Till like the sun it seemed,
Sinking beneath the waves.
Balder returned no more!

So perish the old Gods!
But out of the sea of Time
Rises a new land of song,
Fairer than the old.
Over its meadows green
Walk the young bards and sing.

Build it again,
O ye bards,
Fairer than before!
Ye fathers of the new race,
Feed upon morning dew,
Sing the new Song of Love!

The law of force is dead!
The law of love prevails!
Thor, the thunderer,
Shall rule the earth no more,
No more, with threats,
Challenge the meek Christ.

Sing no more,
O ye bards of the North,
Of Vikings and of Jarls!
Of the days of Eld
Preserve the freedom only,
Not the deeds of blood!

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Late Season Snowfall in Minnesota

photo by Nic McPhee via Flickr
photo by Nic McPhee via Flickr

A week ago today, the landscape in southern Minnesota was snowless. Our lawn was bare – covered only with brown grass (which I convinced myself was most definitely turning green by the hour) and the desiccated leaves of last autumn. I imagined myself getting to work in the garden, planting hardy seeds of kale and spinach. I threw the kids’ snowsuits down the stairs to wash and dry them to put in storage for next fall. As retribution for such thoughts and actions, we received 3.6 inches of snow on Sunday night and more is coming down even as I type. After nearly 30 years here, you’d think I would know better. In Minnesota, you must keep your dreams of spring in check until at least April, possibly May.

In the Twin Cities, the average snowfall for March is 10.2 inches, beating out all months besides December and January. In March of 1951, the Twin Cities received a whopping 40 inches of snow. (Tangent: They shoveled this by hand. No ‘snowblowing’. Although snow throwing machines were invented as early as the 1880s for clearing train tracks, the domestic use ‘walk behind’ machines were only just coming on the market in the early 1950s.) Calling March ‘spring’ here might be tempting fate. March is a month of extreme variability in Minnesota with a record high of 88°F and a record low of -50°F. That’s a 138 degree spread!

I’ve been reading meteorologist Mark Seeley’s informative Minnesota Weather Almanac this week. In this book, Seeley details Minnesota’s worst and most remarkable winter storms. I was surprised how many of them occurred in March. My surprise is probably due to my annual (and naive) belief that winter is over in March – a belief which is perpetually crushed. Do I learn? Of course not, I’m an optimist; we never do.

A few notable late season snow storms:

March 19-20, 1826: Like 1951, March of 1826 brought about 40 inches of snow, including 18 inches on these two days causing snowdrifts of 6 to 15 feet. This snowfall was followed by a further 8 inches in early April. Subsequently, a blast of cold air (4°F on April 10th) arrived further delaying the breakup of ice on the rivers. This sequence of events led to massive flooding carrying away low lying buildings at Fort Snelling and Fort Crawford as well as Chief Little Crow’s village at the site of modern day South Saint Paul. The river ultimately crested at 20 feet above low water.

April 5, 1933: A heavy snowfall struck the north shore, dumping 28 inches of snow in Cook County, a still standing record for 24 hour snowfall in April.

March 15-16, 1941: A blizzard hits western Minnesota. 85 mph winds were reported at Grand Forks and 75 mph winds were reported at Fargo-Moorhead. The wind chill bottomed out at -35°F. Although snowfall from this storm was light, a number of people died from exposure due to the extreme winds and temperatures. Before this storm, Minnesota only had observational weather services, but upset over the lack of warning and the resulting fatalities resulted in forecasting services being added by the National Weather Services.

May 2-3. 1954: Yes, you read that correctly, MAY. A huge storm moves across northern Minnesota. Dropping as much as 10-12 inches of snow across much of the northern half of the state. I would be pissed.

March 14-15, 2002: A storm of mixed precipitation, thunder, and lightning, brought 10-21 inches of snow.

March and April snowfalls aren’t the outliers I’d like the believe they are. They are, in fact, the norm. And while they are often minor interludes between luxuriously (to Minnesotans) sunny days in the mid-40s, they can also be severe, even dangerous. Huge winter storms can even arrive in May (as they did in 1954), but it’s uncommon.

Well, at least we have June, July, and August, because it sometimes snows in September too.

The Winter Solstice

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Winter Sun by NietNagel via Flickr

December 21st is the winter solstice in the Northern Hemisphere. It is the shortest day of the year and, correspondingly, the longest night. On the winter solstice, the sun is the farthest south in the sky it will appear and it is the day of the year when the sun reaches its minimum noon altitude. The sun appears to hang at this altitude for a few days, and then turns and begins its journey back northward toward its highest noon altitude – the summer solstice on June 20th or 21st.

These phenomena are more drastic the farther you are from the equator. For example, Bogota, Columbia is just 4 degrees north of the equator. In Bogota on the winter solstice, there will be 11 hours and 51 minutes of daylight. On the summer solstice, Bogota will receive 12 hours and 23 minutes of sunlight. There is only 32 minutes of difference between the shortest day and the longest in Bogota. Let’s compare that to Minneapolis, MN at 44 degrees north. In Minneapolis, we will receive 8 hours and 46 minutes of sunlight on the winter solstice. On the summer solstice, we received 15 hours and 36 minutes of sunlight. So, there is a difference of nearly 7 hours of daylight between the solstices, compared to Bogota’s 32 minutes.

This becomes even more extreme as you go farther north. Let’s head to 71′ N – Barrow, Alaska. The sun will not rise at all in Barrow, Alaska on December 21st. In fact, the sun has not risen in Barrow since November 18. The sun will not rise again until January 23rd, on which day Barrow will receive a welcome one hour and eight minutes of sunlight. They will have gone 65 days since the last sunrise. Conversely, on May 11th, the sun will rise in Barrow at 1:46 a.m. and it will not set again until August 2nd. So, in Barrow, the difference in day length between the winter and summer solstice is 24 hours.

The solstices have been important in human culture for millenia. Imagine yourself living in a world deeply tied to nature and the seasonal cycle. Each day the world has been getting darker and darker. Cold has crept across the land. Nothing is growing. Death and decay seem to be conquering the world. But then, behold! The sun pauses in its sinking journey toward the southern horizon, and it turns back; gradually, the days start growing longer. The cycle of death and rebirth continue once again. This is something to celebrate!

From prehistoric artifacts, we know that the solstices were acknowledged by humans across the world from at least 3200 BCE. Artifacts that show recognition of the solstices have been found across cultures – in Ireland, Indonesia, and Peru, for example. The oldest of these artifacts we’ve discovered comes from Ireland. Just over 30 miles north of Dublin, a prehistoric tomb known as Newgrange overlooks the River Boyne. The tomb was built around 3200 BCE. If you are having trouble placing 3200 BCE in context, this was 500 years before the pyramids were built, a whopping 2400 years before the Greek city states emerged – we’re talking 5000 years ago here.There is a 60 foot passage in this tomb, at the south end of the passage is an opening that the sun shines in only on the winter solstice. On the solstice, the sun illuminates this inner passageway for 17 minutes. You can actually go and visit Newgrange on the winter solstice and witness this phenomenon for yourself, but you’ll have to win their yearly lottery for tickets, as the event is so popular.

Fire is the most wide-spread aspect of winter solstice celebrations. It is easy to see why – what better way to mark the darkest night of the year then by lighting candles and building bonfires? Part of this fire tradition includes the burning of the Yule Log. The roots of the Yule Log are somewhat mysterious, but may have originated in Northern Europe in the 6th century. The Yule Log (perhaps an entire tree in some places) would be burnt on the solstice and should be kept burning throughout the entire night. A portion of the Yule Log would be kept to be burnt in the next year’s fire. On some Yule Logs, a chalk outline of a man was drawn before the log was placed in the fire…perhaps a remnant of human sacrifice made on the solstice?

A simple solstice celebration:

If you would like to celebrate the winter solstice, it is quite easy to put together a simple celebration. I would start by taking advantage of the few hours of daylight that you have on the solstice (unless you are in Barrow, in which case, maybe leave Barrow?) by getting outside. Take your fellow celebrants out for a nature walk in a wooded area and hunt for the perfect Yule Log. What makes a perfect Yule Log? Go with your gut, you’ll know that Yule Log when you see it. Gather your Yule Log and bring it back home. If you have a fireplace, festivities can continue inside, if you prefer. If you are going to be celebrating outside, as the sun is setting (4:34pm here in Minneapolis), get a roaring bonfire going. If you celebrated last year and have a part of the previous year’s log, put that on the fire. Once the old log is burning well, add the new log. When the new Yule Log has just about burnt out, make sure you pull part of it out of the fire to save for next year’s celebration. I love a good poem and a celebration isn’t quite complete without one, in my opinion. As you sit around the fire, have one brave or dramatic soul in your party recite an appropriate poem (there are many). I like this one:

YULE
So the shortest day came
and the year died
And everywhere down the centuries
of the snow-white world
Came people singing, dancing,
to drive the dark away.

They lighted candles in the winter trees;
They hung their homes with evergreen;
They burned beseeching fires all night long
to keep the year alive.
And when the new year’s sunshine blazed awake
They shouted, reveling.

Through all the frosty ages you can hear them
Echoing behind us — listen!
All the long echoes sing the same delight,
This shortest day.
As promise wakens in the sleeping land;
They carol, feast, give thanks,
And dearly love their friends, and hope for peace.
And so do we, here, now,
This year, and every year.
Susan Cooper

While it might be traditionally appropriate to keep the fire burning all night long, I’m into sleeping, and it is cold in Minnesota in December. So, I’d recommend putting the fire out when everyone is tuckered. You can bring the party back inside, but – and this is key- don’t turn the lights on. Whatever hours of wakefulness remain should be spent without the use of artificial illumination. How nice to come in from the bonfire and light the house only with candles on the darkest night of the year. What a different atmosphere it will create from the average night! Contemplate the ways that companionship and celebration combat the darkness of the longest night, maybe even more so than the candles and the fire.

If you find the science side of the solstice interesting, you cannot miss the video below. The visualizations are amazing.

Long Night Moon

photo by Sigurd Rage via flickr
Full Moon Over Oak by Sigurd Rage via flickr

At 7:27 on the morning of December 6th, the moon will become, for an instant, full. Then, it will begin its steady process of waning once more toward the new moon. The December full moon has a number of traditional names attached to it. It is variously called the Long Night Moon, the Cold Moon, and the Moon Before Yule.

The Long Night Moon is quite an appropriate appellation for the December full moon. This full moon occurs close to the winter solstice – the longest night of the year. Moreover, because the moon rides high in the sky at this time of year, it is visible above the horizon for most of the night. Here in Minneapolis, the moon rises at 4:23 pm on December 5th and doesn’t set until 7:25 am on the 6th. That is just over 15 hours of full moon; Long Night Moon, indeed! A good night to be a werewolf or just a plain lunaphile like myself!

If you are here in Minnesota, the sky is perfectly clear across the state tonight and the weather is mild (relatively speaking) – step outside and get a glimpse of the Long Night Moon! If you miss it on Friday night, it will look just as full on Saturday night, so try again then!

St. Nicholas Day

St. Nicholas Day 2009 - St. Mary's Cathedral - 4 by Gary Bridgman via flickr
St. Nicholas Day 2009 – St. Mary’s Cathedral – 4 by Gary Bridgman via flickr

December 6th is the feast day of St. Nicholas. St. Nicholas Day goes largely uncelebrated in the United States, but in many countries St. Nicholas is the primary gift giver of the holiday season and his feast day supersedes Christmas as the main day of gifting. Where the holiday is celebrated, children put out their freshly polished shoes or boots on the windowsill on the evening of the fifth. That night, St. Nicholas visits children’s houses and fills their shoes with apples, oranges, almonds, candies, or other small gifts.

The details of the celebrations vary from country to country. For example, in the Netherlands, St. Nicholas takes the form of Sinterklaas who arrives in the country by boat from Spain in late November. Accompanying him is his servant, Zwarte Piet, dressed in the garb of a German mercenary (Zwarte Piet means ‘Black Pete’ and traditionally has been a white man dressed in black face. There is an ongoing controversy in the Netherlands about whether or not Zwarte Piet is a figure of racism, which I am not going to get into in this post! If you’d like to read more about the controversy, HuffPost has a decent summary here.)

The historical St. Nicholas lived in the fourth century and was bishop of Myra in Lycia (present day Turkey). This is why we still see images of St. Nicholas carrying a bishop’s crosier (staff with a curl at the top) and wearing a mitre (pointy bishop hat). St. Nicholas is said to have performed many miracles, given away his vast inheritance to the poor, and rescued the city in a time of famine. More than 400 years after his death, his bones were taken from Myra to the Italian harbor town of Bari, after which his popularity began to spread throughout Europe and his feast day became a more popular celebration.

A simple St. Nicholas celebration:

If you would like to celebrate St. Nicholas Day with your children this year, it can be done quite simply. On the evening of December 5th, tell a simple St. Nicholas story. Many St. Nicolas stories an be found here:

http://www.stnicholascenter.org/pages/stories-more/

There are a wide-range of stories varying from the religious to the secular, so you should be able to find one that reflects your family’s beliefs.

Then, have your children clean a pair of their shoes or boots with a rag and set them either outside their bedroom door or by a windowsill. During the night, St. Nicholas can pay a visit and leave special treats inside the shoes such as oranges, chocolate, candy canes, a note, poem, or whatever else is special and at hand!

The Moon Halo

Upon stepping outside this evening, I was greeted by an unexpected sight: a gibbous moon surrounded by a large ring of light. This phenomenon is referred to as a ‘moon halo’. The appearance of a moon halo is purely an optical effect. Moon halos may appear on nights when there are very high thin clouds (cirrus clouds) around 20,000 feet. These clouds are filled with tiny ice crystals. The ice crystals act like prisms refracting and reflecting the light, thereby creating the appearance of a halo around the moon.

There is a folkloric belief that a moon halo is a sign of an impending storm. This actually turns out to be mostly true. While cirrus clouds do not bring rain or snow themselves, they are often the forerunners of the low pressure systems that do bring precipitation. Another belief is that the number of stars within the halo indicates the number of days until the bad weather arrives, though this one doesn’t seem to hold much water, as you might imagine.

The moon halo was an unanticipated and beautiful sight. It is easy to get so involved in our days and busy lives that we miss these little gifts that are all about us if we just take the time to look around (or above in this case). Looking up at the shining halo around the moon tonight, I felt very fortunate to be there to see it and to have the time to stand out in the cold evening with my little son just gazing upward.

I took some bad pictures on my phone that I won’t make you suffer by posting. Fortunately, there are a number of better photos of moon rings available from Wikimedia Commons:

By Radoslaw Ziomber (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0], via Wikimedia Commons
By Radoslaw Ziomber (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0], via Wikimedia Commons
If you’d like to see some very impressive photos of both lunar and solar halos, visit:

http://earthsky.org/space/what-makes-a-halo-around-the-moon

When have you witnessed unexpected moments of beauty in nature?

Sarah Josepha Hale: The Activist Who Gave Us Thanksgiving

By painted by James Reid Lambdin (1807-1889) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
As school children, most of us were taught the traditional story of the first Thanksgiving celebrated by the pilgrims in 1621. However, what happened to the holiday in the subsequent years is a story often left untold. Following the first Thanksgiving in 1621, celebrations of Thanksgiving were irregular and disunited. Days of celebration and thanksgiving for the harvest occurred in the fall throughout the colonies, taking place anytime from late September through early December. Thanksgiving was most commonly observed in the New England colonies of Pilgrim stock, and less so in the south.

It took almost 250 more years for Thanksgiving to become a national holiday fixed on a specific day (then the last Thursday of November, now the fourth Thursday of November). Without the advocacy of writer and editor, Sarah Josepha Buell Hale, Thanksgiving may well have slipped silently into the past as so many of our seasonal holidays have.

Sarah Josepha Hale was an autodidactic New Hampshire mother and writer. She wrote a much celebrated novel about slavery, published in 1827, after which she was offered the editorship of a women’s magazine, The Ladies Magazine and Literary Gazette. She was the first female editor of a magazine in the U.S. From her post as editor of this highly successful magazine, she petitioned her national audience in support of many civil, social, and patriotic causes, including women’s education and the establishment of a national Thanksgiving.

Starting in 1846, she began her advocacy work toward making Thanksgiving a national holiday. Over the next 17 years, she would write thousands of letters, petition five different U.S. presidents, and publish numerous articles in her magazine all in support of creating a national holiday of Thanksgiving.  Hale hoped that the establishment of a shared national day of Thanksgiving might prevent the outbreak of war between the increasingly fractious North and South. “There is a deep moral influence in the periodical seasons of rejoicing,” she wrote, “in which whole communities participate. They bring out…the best sympathies in our natures.”

Hale finally found an ally in President Lincoln. She wrote him many letters and eventually visited him in person at the White House. Three months after the battle of Gettysburg, Lincoln ordered a proclamation establishing Thanksgiving as a national holiday to be celebrated on the last Thursday of November. In his proclamation, Lincoln wrote:

And I recommend to them, that while offering up the ascriptions due to Him for such singular deliverance and blessings, they do so with humble penitence…commend to His tender care those who have become widows, orphans, or mourners, or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently implore the interposition of the Almighty hand to heal the wounds of the nation, to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, and Union.

Although possibly influenced by Hale, Lincoln’s motivations for the establishment of a national Thanksgiving were likely complex. Godfrey Hodgson, author of A Great and Godly Adventure: The Pilgrims and the Myth of the First Thanksgiving, contends that the proclamation was, “…probably motivated by the need to maintain the civilian morale of a Union whose ultimate victory might now be inevitable, but where the costs and travails of the war were bitterly discouraging. Lincoln was always acutely aware of the connection between civilian morale and military victory in a great citizen army, and he was particularly sensitive to the moral sensibilities of the New England Christian intelligentsia and to that New England Protestant tradition from which, after all, the nation owed Thanksgiving in the first place. The decision to make Thanksgiving a national holiday illustrates the two sides of Lincoln’s genius: the moral prophet and the shrewd politician.” Whatever the motivation behind Lincoln’s proclamation, Hale’s influence on the President, local governments, and everyday Americans was instrumental in forging the idea of a national day of Thanksgiving. And that is something we can all be thankful for.