{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_28455/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_28455","id":"gutenberg_28455","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/28455","summary":null,"tags":["Biography","Category: Biographies","Category: History - Other","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore"],"text":"Produced by Sigal Alon, Christine P. Travers and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This\nfile was produced from images generously made available\nby The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[Transcriber's note: ^ is used to mark superscript.]\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Columbus before Isabella.]\n\n\n\n\nGREAT MEN AND FAMOUS WOMEN\n\n\n_A Series of Pen and Pencil Sketches of_\n\nTHE LIVES OF MORE THAN 200 OF THE MOST PROMINENT PERSONAGES IN HISTORY\n\n\nVOL. V.\n\n\n\n\nCopyright, 1894, BY SELMAR HESS\n\nedited by Charles F. Horne\n\n[Illustration: Publisher's arm.]\n\nNew-York: Selmar Hess Publisher\n\n\nCopyright, 1894, by SELMAR HESS.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS OF VOLUME V.\n\n\n  SUBJECT                         AUTHOR                          PAGE\n\n  AENEAS,                      _Charlotte M. Yonge_,                 12\n  ETHAN ALLEN,                _Gertrude Van Rensselaer Wickham_,   200\n  KING ARTHUR,                _Rev. S. Baring-Gould_,               36\n  THE CHEVALIER BAYARD,       _Herbert Greenhough Smith_,          145\n  ST. BERNARD,                _Henry G. Hewlett_,                   60\n  ROBERT BRUCE,               _Sir J. Bernard Burke, LL.D._,       105\n  WILLIAM CAXTON,                                                  129\n  THE CID,                    _Henry G. Hewlett_,                   56\n  CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS,       _A. R. Spofford, LL.D._,             131\n  CAPTAIN JAMES COOK,         _Oliver Optic_,                      188\n  ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI,      _George Parsons Lathrop, LL.D._,      78\n  FREDERICK BARBAROSSA,       _Lady Lamb_,                          65\n  VASCO DA GAMA,              _Judge Albion W. Tourgee_,           139\n  THE GRACCHI,                _James Anthony Froude, LL.D._,        20\n  GUSTAVUS VASA,              _Charles F. Horne_,                  153\n  HANS GUTENBERG,             _Alphonse de Lamartine_,             121\n  HAROLD, KING OF ENGLAND,                                          54\n  WILLIAM HARVEY,                                                  172\n  HERCULES,                   _Charlotte M. Yonge_,                  1\n  JOHN HOWARD,                _Harriet G. Walker_,                 194\n  JOAN OF ARC,                _Ella Wheeler Wilcox_,               113\n  LEIF ERICSON,               _Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen_,             49\n  ST. LOUIS,                  _Henry G. Hewlett_,                   86\n  MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS,       _Samuel L. Knapp_,                   159\n  MARCO POLO,                 _Noah Brooks_,                        92\n  RICHARD COEUR DE LION,                                            71\n  ROLAND,                                                           39\n  ROLLO THE GANGER,           _Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen_,             44\n  SIEGFRIED,                  _Karl Blind_,                         31\n  CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH,         _Marion Harland_,                    166\n  PRINCE CHARLES STUART,      _Andrew Lang, LL.D._,                177\n  THESEUS,                                                           5\n  ULYSSES,                    _Charles F. Horne_,                    7\n  SIR WILLIAM WALLACE,                                             100\n  ARNOLD VON WINKELRIED,                                           111\n  XENOPHON,                   _Professor J. Pentland Mahaffy_,      15\n  ZENOBIA, QUEEN OF PALMYRA,  _Anna Jameson_,                       26\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS\n\nVOLUME V.\n\n\nPHOTOGRAVURES\n\n  ILLUSTRATION                           ARTIST              TO FACE PAGE\n\n  COLUMBUS BEFORE ISABELLA,              _Vacslav Brozik_   _Frontispiece_\n  ULYSSES DEFYING THE CYCLOPS,           _Louis-Frederic\n                                           Schutzenberger_          10\n  THE MOTHER OF THE GRACCHI,             _Gustave Boulanger_        20\n  LEIF ERICSON OFF THE COAST OF\n    VINELAND,                            _O. A. Wergeland_          52\n  THE VISION OF ST. BERNARD,             _Wilhelm Bernatzik_        62\n  THE DEATH OF BARBAROSSA,               _Wilhelm Beckmann_         70\n  LOUIS IX. OPENS THE JAILS OF FRANCE,   _Luc Olivier Merson_       90\n  ARNOLD WINKELRIED AT SEMPACH,          _Konrad Grob_             112\n   JOAN OF ARC,                          _Mme. Zoe-Laure de\n                                           Chatillon_              118\n  MARY STUART AND RIZZIO,                _Georg Conrader_          162\n\n\n\n\nWOOD-ENGRAVINGS AND TYPOGRAVURES\n\n\n  HERCULES AT THE FEET OF OMPHALE,       _J. E. Dantan_              4\n  TRIBUTE TO THE MINOTAUR,               _A. Gendron_                6\n  ZENOBIA CAPTIVE,                       _H. Schmalz_               26\n  SIEGFRIED SLAYING THE DRAGON,          _K. Dielitz_               32\n  THE RUINS OF KING ARTHUR'S CASTLE,     _Percy Dixon_              38\n  ROLAND AT RONCESVALLES,                _Alphonse de Neuville_     42\n  ROLLO THE RANGER ATTACKS PARIS,        _Alphonse de Neuville_     46\n  EDITH SEARCHING FOR THE BODY OF\n    HAROLD,                              _Alphonse de Neuville_     56\n  THE CID ORDERING THE EXECUTION OF\n    AHMED,                               _Alphonse de Neuville_     58\n  RICHARD COEUR DE LION ON THE FIELD\n    OF ARSUR,                            _Gustave Dore_             74\n  THE VISION OF ST. FRANCIS,             _Chartran_                 84\n  THE EDUCATION OF LOUIS IX.,            _Chartran_                 86\n  GUTENBERG'S INVENTION,                 _E. Hillemacher_          126\n  THE FIRST SHEET FROM CAXTON'S PRESS,   _E. H. Wehnert_           130\n  COLUMBUS RIDICULED AT THE COUNCIL OF\n    SALAMANCA,                           _Nicolo Barabino_         134\n  BAYARD TAKING LEAVE OF THE LADIES OF\n    BRESCIA,                             _Alphonse de Neuville_    150\n  ABDICATION OF GUSTAVUS VASA,           _Hersent_                 156\n  CAPTAIN SMITH SAVED BY POCAHONTAS,     _Grosch_                  168\n  HARVEY DEMONSTRATING THE CIRCULATION\n    OF THE BLOOD,                        _Robert Hannah_           176\n  THE FIRST MEETING OF PRINCE CHARLES\n    WITH FLORA MACDONALD,                _Alex. Johnstone_         184\n  DEATH OF CAPTAIN COOK,                 _J. Webber_               192\n  HOWARD RELIEVING A PRISONER,           _F. Wheatley_             198\n  ETHAN ALLEN AT TICONDEROGA,            _Alonzo Chappel_          204\n\n\n\n\nWORKMEN AND HEROES\n\n  The heights by great men reached and kept\n    Were not attained by sudden flight,\n  But they, while their companions slept,\n    Were toiling upward in the night.\n\n  --LONGFELLOW.\n\n\n\n\nHERCULES\n\nBy CHARLOTTE M. YONGE\n\n[Illustration: Hercules.]\n\n\nOne morning Jupiter boasted among the gods in Olympus that a son would\nthat day be born, in the line of Perseus, who would rule over all the\nArgives. Juno was angry and jealous at this, and, as she was the goddess\nwho presided over the births of children, she contrived to hinder the\nbirth of the child he intended till that day was over, and to hasten\nthat of another grandson of the great Perseus. This child was named\nEurystheus, and, as he had been born on the right day, Jupiter was\nforced to let him be King of Argos, Sparta, and Mycenae, and all the\nDorian race; while the boy whom he had meant to be the chief was kept in\nsubjection, in spite of having wonderful gifts of courage and strength,\nand a kind, generous nature, that always was ready to help the weak and\nsorrowful.\n\nHis name was Alcides, or Hercules, and he was so strong at ten months\nold that, with his own hands, he strangled two serpents whom Juno sent\nto devour him in his cradle. He was bred up by Chiron, the chief of the\nCentaurs, a wondrous race of beings, who had horses' bodies as far as\nthe forelegs, but where the neck of the horse would begin had human\nbreasts and shoulders, with arms and heads. Most of them were fierce and\nsavage; but Chiron was very wise and good, and, as Jupiter made him\nimmortal, he was the teacher of many of the great Greek heroes. When\nHercules was about eighteen, two maidens appeared to him--one in a\nsimple white dress, grave, modest, and seemly; the other scarcely\nclothed but tricked out in ornaments, with a flushed face, and bold,\nroving eyes. The first told him that she was Virtue, and that, if he\nwould follow her, she would lead him through many hard trials, but that\nhe would be glorious at last, and be blest among the gods. The other was\nVice, and she tried to wile him by a smooth life among wine-cups and\ndances and flowers and sports, all to be enjoyed at once. But the choice\nof Hercules was Virtue, and it was well for him, for Jupiter, to make up\nfor Juno's cheat, had sworn that, if he fulfilled twelve tasks which\nEurystheus should put upon him, he should be declared worthy of being\nraised to the gods at his death.\n\nEurystheus did not know that in giving these tasks he was making his\ncousin fulfil his course; but he was afraid of such a mighty man, and\nhoped that one of these would be the means of getting rid of him. So\nwhen he saw Hercules at Argos, with a club made of a forest-tree in his\nhand, and clad in the skin of a lion which he had slain, Eurystheus bade\nhim go and kill a far more terrible lion, of giant brood, and with a\nskin that could not be pierced, which dwelt in the valley of Nemea. The\nfight was a terrible one; the lion could not be wounded, and Hercules\nwas forced to grapple with it and strangle it in his arms. He lost a\nfinger in the struggle, but at last the beast died in his grasp, and he\ncarried it on his back to Argos, where Eurystheus was so much frightened\nat the grim sight that he fled away to hide himself, and commanded\nHercules not to bring his monsters within the gates of the city.\n\nThere was a second labor ready for Hercules--namely, the destroying a\nserpent with nine heads, called Hydra, whose lair was the marsh of\nLerna. Hercules went to the battle, and managed to crush one head with\nhis club, but that moment two sprang up in its place; moreover, a huge\ncrab came out of the swamp and began to pinch his heels. Still he did\nnot lose heart, but, calling his friend Iolaus, he bade him take a\nfirebrand and burn the necks as fast as he cut off the heads; and thus\nat last they killed the creature, and Hercules dipped his arrows in its\npoisonous blood, so that their least wound became fatal. Eurystheus said\nthat it had not been a fair victory, since Hercules had been helped, and\nJuno put the crab into the skies as the constellation Cancer; while a\nlabor to patience was next devised for Hercules--namely, the chasing of\nthe Arcadian stag, which was sacred to Diana, and had golden horns and\nbrazen hoofs. Hercules hunted it up hill and down dale for a whole year,\nand when at last he caught it, he got into trouble with Apollo and Diana\nabout it, and had hard work to appease them; but he did so at last; and\nfor his fourth labor was sent to catch alive a horrid wild boar on Mount\nErymanthus. He followed the beast through a deep swamp, caught it in a\nnet, and brought it to Mycenae.\n\nThe fifth task was a curious one. Augeas, King of Elis, had immense\nherds, and kept his stables and cowhouses in a frightful state of filth,\nand Eurystheus, hoping either to disgust Hercules or kill him by the\nunwholesomeness of the work, sent him to clean them. Hercules, without\ntelling Augeas it was his appointed task, offered to do it if he were\nrepaid the tenth of the herds, and received the promise on oath. Then he\ndug a canal, and turned the water of two rivers into the stables, so as\neffectually to cleanse them; but when Augeas heard it was his task, he\ntried to cheat him of the payment, and on the other hand Eurystheus\nsaid, as he had been rewarded, it could not count as one of his labors,\nand ordered him off to clear the woods near Lake Stymphalis of some\nhorrible birds, with brazen beaks and claws, and ready-made arrows for\nfeathers, which ate human flesh. To get them to rise out of the forest\nwas his first difficulty, but Pallas lent him a brazen clapper, which\nmade them take to their wings; then he shot them with his poisoned\narrows, killed many, and drove the rest away.\n\nKing Minos, of Crete, had once vowed to sacrifice to the gods whatever\nshould appear from the sea. A beautiful white bull came, so fine that it\ntempted him not to keep his word, and he was punished by the bull going\nmad, and doing all sorts of damage in Crete; so that Eurystheus thought\nit would serve as a labor for Hercules to bring the animal to Mycenae. In\ndue time back came the hero, with the bull, quite subdued, upon his\nshoulders; and, having shown it, he let it loose again to run about\nGreece.\n\nHe had a harder task in getting the mares of the Thracian king,\nDiomedes, which were fed on man's flesh. He overcame their grooms, and\ndrove the beasts away; but he was overtaken by Diomedes, and, while\nfighting with him and his people, put the mares under the charge of a\nfriend; but when the battle was over, and Diomedes killed, he found that\nthey had eaten up their keeper. However, when he had fed them on the\ndead body of their late master they grew mild and manageable, and he\nbrought them home.\n\nThe next expedition was against the Amazons, a nation of women warriors,\nwho lived somewhere on the banks of the Euxine, or Black Sea, kept their\nhusbands in subjection, and seldom brought up a son. The bravest of all\nthe Amazons was the queen, Hippolyta, to whom Mars had given a belt as a\nreward for her valor. Eurystheus's daughter wanted this belt, and\nHercules was sent to fetch it. He was so hearty, honest, and\ngood-natured, that he talked over Hippolyta, and she promised him her\ngirdle; but Juno, to make mischief, took the form of an Amazon, and\npersuaded the ladies that their queen was being deluded and stolen away\nby a strange man, so they mounted their horses and came down to rescue\nher. He thought she had been treacherous, and there was a great fight,\nin which he killed her, and carried off her girdle.\n\nFar out in the west, near the ocean flowing found the world, were herds\nof purple oxen, guarded by a two-headed dog, and belonging to a giant\nwith three bodies called Geryon, who lived in the isle of Erythria, in\nthe outmost ocean. Passing Lybia, Hercules came to the end of the\nMediterranean Sea, Neptune's domain, and there set up two\npillars--namely, Mounts Calpe and Abyla--on each side of the Straits of\nGibraltar. The rays of the sun scorched him, and in wrath he shot at it\nwith his arrows, when Helios, instead of being angry, admired his\nboldness, and gave him his golden cup, wherewith to cross the outer\nocean, which he did safely, although old Oceanus, who was king there,\nput up his hoary head, and tried to frighten him by shaking the bowl. It\nwas large enough to hold all the herd of oxen, when Hercules had killed\ndog, herdsman, and giant, and he returned it safely to Helios when he\nhad crossed the ocean.\n\nAgain Eurystheus sent Hercules to the utmost parts of the earth. This\ntime it was to bring home the golden apples which grew in the gardens of\nthe Hesperides, the daughters of old Atlas, who dwelt in the land of\nHesperus, the Evening Star, and, together with a dragon, guarded the\ngolden tree in a beautiful garden. Hercules made a long journey,\napparently round by the north, and on his way had to wrestle with a\ndreadful giant named Antaeus. Though thrown down over and over again,\nAntaeus rose up twice as strong every time, till Hercules found out that\nhe grew in force whenever he touched his mother earth, and therefore,\nlifting him up in those mightiest of arms, the hero squeezed the breath\nout of him. By and by he came to Mount Caucasus, where he found the\nchained Prometheus, and, aiming an arrow at the eagle, killed the\ntormentor, and set the Titan free. Atlas undertook to go to his\ndaughters, and get the apples, if Hercules would hold up the skies for\nhim in the meantime. Hercules agreed, and Atlas shifted the heavens to\nhis shoulders, went, and presently returned with three apples of gold,\nbut said he would take them to Eurystheus, and Hercules must continue to\nbear the load of the skies. Prometheus bade Hercules say he could not\nhold them without a pad for them to rest on upon his head. Atlas took\nthem again to hold while the pad was put on; and thereupon Hercules\npicked up the apples, and left the old giant to his load.\n\nOne more labor remained--namely, to bring up the three-headed watch-dog,\nCerberus, from the doors of Tartarus. Mercury and Pallas both came to\nattend him, and led him alive among the shades, who all fled from him,\nexcept Medusa and one brave youth. He gave them the blood of an ox to\ndrink, and made his way to Pluto's throne, where he asked leave to take\nCerberus to the upper world with him. Pluto said he might, if he could\novercome Cerberus without weapons; and this he did, struggling with the\ndog, with no protection but the lion's skin, and dragging him up to the\nlight, where the foam that fell from the jaws of one of the three mouths\nproduced the plant called aconite, or hellebore, which is dark and\npoisonous. After showing the beast to Eurystheus, Hercules safely\nreturned him to the under world, and thus completed his twelve great\nlabors.\n\nHercules was subject to fits of madness, in one of which he slew a\nfriend, and as a penalty he allowed himself to be sold as a slave. He\nwas purchased by the Queen of Lydia, Omphale, and remained in her\nservice three years. She used to make him do a woman's work, and even\ndressed him at times in female garments, while she herself wore his\nfamous lion skin and laughed at him.\n\n[Illustration: Hercules at the Feet of Omphale.]\n\nBut strong as he was, Hercules had in time to meet death himself. He had\nmarried a nymph named Deianira, and was taking her home, when he came to\na river where a Centaur named Nessus lived, and gained his bread by\ncarrying travellers over on his back. Hercules paid him the price for\ncarrying Deianira over, while he himself crossed on foot; but as soon as\nthe river was between them, the faithless Centaur began to gallop away\nwith the lady. Hercules sent an arrow after him, which brought him to\nthe ground, and as he was dying he prepared his revenge by telling\nDeianira that his blood was enchanted with love for her, and that if\never she found her husband's affection failing her, she had only to make\nhim put on a garment anointed with it, and his heart would return to\nher; he knew full well that his blood was full of the poison of the\nHydra, but poor Deianira believed him, and had saved some of the blood\nbefore Hercules came up.\n\nSeveral years after, Hercules made prisoner a maiden named Iole, in\nLydia, after gaining a great victory. Landing in the island of Euboea,\nhe was going to make a great sacrifice to Jupiter, and sent home to\nDeianira for a festal garment to wear at it. She was afraid he was\nfalling in love with Iole, and steeped the garment in the preparation\nshe had made from Nessus's blood. No sooner did Hercules put it on, than\nhis veins were filled with agony, which nothing could assuage. He tried\nto tear off the robe, but the skin and flesh came with it, and his blood\nwas poisoned beyond relief. Unable to bear the pain any longer, and\nknowing that by his twelve tasks he had earned the prize of endless\nlife, he went to Mount Oeta, crying aloud with the pain, so that the\nrocks rang again with the sound. He gave his quiver of arrows to his\nfriend Philoctetes, charging him to collect his ashes and bury them, but\nnever to make known the spot; and then he tore up, with his mighty\nstrength, trees by the roots, enough to form a funeral pile, lay down on\nit, and called on his friend to set fire to it; but no one could bear to\ndo so, till a shepherd consented to thrust in a torch. Then thunder was\nheard, a cloud came down, and he was borne away to Olympus, while\nPhiloctetes collected and buried the ashes.\n\n\n\n\nTHESEUS\n\n[Illustration: Theseus.]\n\n\nTheseus, the great national hero of Athens, is said to have been born at\nTroezen, where his father, AEgeus, King of Athens, slept one night with\nAEthra, the daughter of Pittheus, king of the place. AEgeus, on his\ndeparture, hid his sword and his shoes under a large stone, and charged\nAEthra, if she brought forth a son, to send him to Athens with these\ntokens, as soon as he was able to roll away the stone. She brought forth\na son, to whom she gave the name of Theseus, and when he was grown up\ninformed him of his origin, and told him to take up the tokens and sail\nto Athens, for the roads were infested by robbers and monsters. But\nTheseus, who was desirous of emulating the glory of Hercules, refused to\ngo by sea, and after destroying various monsters who had been the terror\nof the country, arrived in safety at Athens. Here he was joyfully\nrecognized by AEgeus, but with difficulty escaped destruction from Media\nand the Pallantids, the sons and grandsons of Pallas, the brother of\nAEgeus. These dangers, however, he finally surmounted, and slew the\nPallantids in battle.\n\nHis next exploit was the destruction of the great Marathonian bull,\nwhich ravaged the neighboring country; and shortly after he resolved to\ndeliver the Athenians from the tribute that they were obliged to pay to\nMinos, King of Crete. Every ninth year the Athenians had to send seven\nyoung men and as many virgins to Crete, to be devoured by the Minotaur\nin the Labyrinth. Theseus volunteered to go as one of the victims, and\nthrough the assistance of Ariadne, the daughter of Minos, who became\nenamoured of him, he slew the Minotaur and escaped from the Labyrinth.\nHe then sailed away with Ariadne, whom he deserted in the island of Dia\nor Naxos, an event which frequently forms the subject of ancient works\nof art. The sails of the ship Theseus left Athens in were black, but he\npromised his father, if he returned in safety, to hoist white sails.\nThis, however, he neglected to do, and AEgeus, seeing the ship draw near\nwith black sails, supposed that his son had perished, and threw himself\nfrom a rock.\n\nTheseus now ascended the throne of Athens. But his adventures were by no\nmeans concluded. He marched into the country of the Amazons, who dwelt\non the Thermodon, according to some accounts, in the company of\nHercules, and carried away their queen, Antiope. The Amazons in revenge\ninvaded Attica, and were with difficulty defeated by the Athenians. This\nbattle was one of the favorite subjects of the ancient artists, and is\ncommemorated in several works of art that are still extant. Theseus also\ntook part in the Argonautic expedition and the Calydonian hunt. He\nassisted his friend Pirithous and the Lapithae in their contest with the\nCentaurs, and also accompanied the former in his descent to the lower\nworld to carry off Proserpine, the wife of Pluto. When Theseus was fifty\nyears old, according to tradition, he carried off Helen, the daughter of\nLeda, who was then only nine years of age. But his territory was invaded\nin consequence by Castor and Pollux, the brothers of Leda; his own\npeople rose against him, and at last, finding his affairs desperate, he\nwithdrew to the island of Scyros, and there perished, either by a fall\nfrom the cliffs or through the treachery of Lycomedes, the king of the\nisland. For a long time his memory was forgotten by the Athenians, but\nhe was subsequently honored by them as the greatest of their heroes. At\nthe battle of Marathon they thought they saw him armed and bearing down\nupon the barbarians, and after the conclusion of the Persian war his\nbones were discovered at Scyros by Cimon, who conveyed them to Athens\nwhere they were received with great pomp and deposited in a temple built\nto his honor. A festival also was instituted, which was celebrated on\nthe eighth day of every month, but more especially on the eighth of\nPyanipsion.\n\nThe above is a brief account of the legends prevailing respecting\nTheseus. But he is, moreover, represented by ancient writers as the\nfounder of the Attic commonwealth, and even of its democratic\ninstitutions. It would be waste of time to inquire whether there was an\nhistorical personage of this name who actually introduced the political\nchanges ascribed to him; it will be convenient to adhere to the ancient\naccount in describing them as the work of Theseus.\n\n[Illustration: Tribute to the Minotaur.]\n\nBefore this time Attica contained many independent townships, which were\nonly nominally united. Theseus incorporated the people into one state,\nremoved the principal courts for the administration of justice to\nAthens, and greatly enlarged the city, which had hitherto covered little\nmore than the rock which afterward formed the citadel. To cement their\nunion he instituted several festivals, and especially changed the\nAthenaea into the Panathenaea, or the festivals of all the Atticans. He\nencouraged the nobles to reside at Athens, and surrendered a part of his\nkingly prerogatives to them; for which reason he is perhaps represented\nas the founder of the Athenian democracy, although the government which\nhe established was, and continued to be long after him, strictly\naristocratic.\n\n\n\n\nULYSSES[1]\n\n         [Footnote 1: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess.]\n\nBy CHARLES F. HORNE\n\n[Illustration: Ulysses.]\n\n\nWhile courage and strength seemed to the ancient Greeks the noblest of\nvirtues, they ranked wisdom and ready wit almost as high. Achilles was\nthe strongest of the Grecian warriors at the siege of Troy, but there\nwas another almost as strong, equally brave, and far shrewder of wit.\nThis was Ulysses. It was he who ultimately brought about the capture of\nthe city. Homer speaks often of him in his \"Iliad;\" and the bard's\nsecond great work, the \"Odyssey,\" is devoted entirely to the wanderings\nof Odysseus, or, as we have learned from the Romans to call him,\nUlysses. Whether he was a real person or only a creation of the poet's\nfancy, it is impossible to say. But as it is now generally agreed that\nthere was a siege of Troy, it follows that there was probably a Ulysses,\nand his adventures, while in the main mythical, are of value as having\nperhaps some foundation in truth, and giving, at all events, a picture\nof what the old Greeks thought a hero should be and do.\n\nUlysses was King of Ithaca when he was summoned to join the rest of the\nGrecian princes for the war with Troy. He had no wish to go, for he had\nlately married a beautiful girl, Penelope, and was happy as a man might\nbe. So when the heralds came he pretended to be insane, and hitching a\nyoke of oxen to a plough he drove them along the sands of the sea-shore.\nHe sang and shouted, and ploughed up the sand, and scattered salt as if\nhe were sowing it, and cried out that he would soon have a beautiful\ncrop of salt waves. The heralds watched him for a moment, and then\nreturning to the princes told them that there was no use delivering the\nsummons to Ulysses, for he had lost his wits. Then Palamedes, who, after\nUlysses, was accounted shrewdest of the Greeks, went, and standing there\non the beach, watched the plough. And he took Ulysses's baby son and\nthrew him in front of the team to see if the father was indeed mad.\nUlysses turned the plough aside to avoid the child; and then the princes\nknew it was all a pretence, and he had to go with them. But he never\nforgave Palamedes, and long after brought about his death.\n\nHe was in many ways the ablest of the Greeks. Next to Achilles, Ajax was\naccounted the strongest; but Ulysses threw him in wrestling. Oilemenus\nwas regarded as the swiftest of men, but Ulysses in a race outran him.\nWhen Achilles was slain Ulysses alone held back all the Trojans, while\nhis comrades bore the body to their ships. Many other great exploits he\nperformed, and his counsels were of much value to the Greeks through all\nthe long siege. A great pile of spoils was heaped up to be given to the\nman who had been of most use to the assailants, and the Trojan prisoners\nthemselves being called on to decide, gave it to Ulysses. At the last,\nwhen Achilles was dead, and the Greeks were all worn out and despairing,\nit was his fertile brain which originated the snare into which the\nTrojans fell.\n\nNow, with the other Greeks, Ulysses set out to return to his home. Yet\nfirst he stopped with his Ithacans to attack the Trojan city of Ciconia.\nThe assault was unexpected and successful. Great treasure fell into the\nhands of the conquerors; but, in spite of their leader's entreaties,\nthey persisted in stopping in the captured city for a night's carouse.\nThe dispersed Ciconians rallied, gathered together their allies, and\nattacking the revellers, defeated them with great slaughter, so that\nless than half of them escaped in their ships. Yet this was only the\nfirst of the many mishaps which befell the ill-starred Ulysses. So\npersistently did misfortune pursue him that the superstitious Greeks\ndeclared that he must have incurred the hatred of the sea-god, Neptune,\nwho would not let him cross his domains.\n\nNo sooner had his flying ships escaped from Ciconia than they were\nstruck by a terrific tempest which drove them far out of their course.\nFor three days the storm continued; then, as it abated, they saw before\nthem an unknown shore on which they landed to rest and recover their\nstrength. It was the land of the lotos-eaters, and when Ulysses sent\nmessengers to find out where he was, they, too, ate of the lotos fruit.\nIt caused them to forget everything; their struggles and exhaustion,\ntheir homes, their leader, the great battles they had fought, all were\nobliterated. They only cared to lie there as the other lotos-eaters did,\ndoing no work, but just dreaming all their lives, nibbling at the fruit,\nwhich was both food and drink, until they grew old and died.\n\nUlysses knew that any life, no matter how wretched, was far better than\nthis death in life. He forbade any other of his men to touch the fruit,\nand binding those who had already eaten it, he bore them, despite their\npleading and weeping, back to his ships, which he at once led away from\nthat clime of subtle danger. They next sighted a fertile island, where\nleaving most of his comrades for the rest they needed, Ulysses sailed\nin his own ship, exploring. He soon found himself in a beautiful\ncountry, where were seen vast herds of sheep and goats, but no people.\nLanding with his men, they explored it and found great caves full of\nmilk and cheese, but still no people, only a huge giant in the distance.\nSo sitting down in one of the caves they feasted merrily and awaited the\nreturn of the inhabitants.\n\nNow these inhabitants were giants, such as the one they had seen. They\nwere called Cyclops, and had only one great eye in the middle of the\nforehead. The Cyclops who owned the cave in which the adventurers were\nwas a particularly large and savage one named Polyphemus. When he\nreturned at night and saw the men within, he immediately seized two of\nthem, cracked their heads together, and ate them for supper. Then he\nwent to bed. Ulysses and his terrified men would have slain the huge\ncreature as he slept; but he had rolled a great stone in front of the\ndoor, and they could not possibly move it to escape. In the morning the\nmonster ate two more of the unfortunates and then went off with his\nflocks, fastening the door as before. In the evening he ate two more.\n\nBy this time the crafty Ulysses, as Homer delights to call him, had\nperfected his plans. He offered Polyphemus some wine, which so delighted\nhim that he asked the giver his name, and said he had it in mind to do\nhim a kindness. The crafty one told him his name was No-man. Then said\nthe ogre, \"This shall be your reward, I will eat No-man the last of you\nall.\" Then, heavy with the wine, he fell into a deep sleep. The tiny\nweapons of the wanderers would have been of little effect against this\nman-mountain, so taking a great pole, they heated it red-hot in the\nfire, and all together plunged it into his one great eye, blinding him.\nUp he jumped, roaring and howling horribly, and groping in the dark to\nfind his prisoners; but they easily avoided him. Then came other Cyclops\nrunning at the noise from their distant caves, and called to him, \"Who\nhas hurt thee, Polyphemus?\"\n\nHe answered them, \"No-man has hurt me, No-man has blinded me.\"\n\nThen they said, \"If no man has hurt thee, thy trouble is from the gods,\nand we may not interfere. Bear it patiently, and pray to them.\"\n\nIn the morning Polyphemus opened the door, and sitting in it, let his\nsheep pass out, feeling each one, so that the Greeks might not escape.\nBut the crafty one fastened himself and his remaining comrades under the\nbreasts of the largest sheep, and so, hidden by the wool, escaped\nunnoticed. They hurried to their ship and put out to sea. And now\nfeeling safe, Ulysses shouted to the blind monster and taunted him,\nwhereon, rushing to the shore, Polyphemus lifted up a vast rock and\nhurled it toward the sound he heard. It almost struck the vessel, and\nits waves swept the little craft back to the land. In great haste they\nshoved off again, and when they felt safe, shouted at him once more. He\nfollowed them, hurling rocks, but now they were beyond his reach and\nreturned safely to their companions.\n\nNext the wanderers reached the island of AEolus, who controls the winds.\nHe received them with royal hospitality, pointed out to them their\nproper course to Ithaca, and when they left him, gave to Ulysses a bag\nin which he had tied up all the contrary winds, that they might have a\nfair one to waft them home. For nine days they sailed, and at last were\nactually in sight of their destination; but the seamen fancying there\nwas treasure in AEolus's bag opened it while their leader slept. At once\nleaped out all the wild winds, and there was a terrible tempest which\nswept the vessels back to their starting-point. AEolus, however, refused\nto help them again, for he said they were plainly accursed of the gods.\n\nSo they journeyed on as best they might, and came to the land of the\nLaestrygonians. These people were of enormous strength and were\ncannibals; but Ulysses and his men knowing nothing of this, sailed into\nthe narrow harbor. As they landed the cannibals rushed upon them and\nslew them, and hurling rocks from the top of the narrow entrance, sank\nthose ships which would have escaped. Ulysses in his own ship managed to\nforce his way out, but all the other ships were taken and their crews\nslain.\n\nThen, in deep mourning, Ulysses sailed on till he came to the home of\nCirce, a beautiful but wicked enchantress. Here he divided his crew into\ntwo parties, and while one half rested, the others went to find what\nplace this was. Circe welcomed them in her palace, feasted them, and\ngave them a magic drink. When they had drunk this, she touched them with\nher wand, and they were turned into swine, all except one, who had\nfeared to enter the palace, and now returning, told Ulysses that the\nothers had disappeared. Then the hero arose and went alone to the\npalace; but on the way he sought out a little herb which might render\nthe drink harmless. This he ate, and when Circe having given him the\ndeadly cup, would have turned him also into a brute, he drew his sword\nas if to slay her. Terribly frightened, she besought mercy, and at his\nrequest restored his men to their own forms.\n\nDirected by her, Ulysses is said to have entered the abode of the dead,\nand conversed with the ghosts of all the great warriors who had been\nslain in the Trojan war, or who had died since. At last, when Circe had\nno more wonders to show him, the wanderer left her, once more directed\non the road to Ithaca, and to some extent warned of the dangers which\nbeset the path.\n\nFirst he had to pass the Sirens, beautiful but baleful maidens, who sat\non a rocky shore and sang a magic song so alluring, that men hearing it\nlet their ships drift on the rocks while listening, or threw themselves\ninto the sea to swim to the maidens, and were drowned. No man had ever\nheard them and lived. Here the crafty one filled his companions' ears\nwith wax, so they could not hear the Sirens' song, and he bade them bind\nhim to the mast, so that he might hear it but could not go to them. This\nwas done, and they passed in safety. Ulysses heard the sweet song, and\nraved and struggled to break his bonds, but they held fast. So he was\nthe first to hear the Sirens' song and live. And some say he was the\nlast as well, for in despair, thinking their music had lost its power,\nthe maidens threw themselves into the sea.\n\n[Illustration: Ulysses defying the Cyclops.]\n\nNext the wanderers came to a narrow strait, on one side of which was\nCharybdis, a dread whirlpool from which no ship could escape, and on the\nother was the cave of Scylla, a monster having six snake-like heads,\nwith each of which she seized a man from every passing ship. Choosing\nthe lesser evil, the bold Ulysses sailed through the strait close to\nScylla; and six poor wretches were snatched by the monster from the deck\nand devoured, but the rest escaped.\n\n[Illustration: Menelaus. Paris. Diomedes. Ulysses. Nestor. Achilles.\nAgamemnon.]\n\nThen they came to an uninhabited island, filled with herds of cattle.\nThese were held sacred to the sun, and no man might slay or eat them\nwithout being punished by the gods. This Ulysses knew well, and warned\nhis men against touching them; but great tempests now swelled up, and\nfor a whole month the sailors could not leave the island. Their\nprovisions gave out and they were starving. Then their leader wandered\naway looking for help, and while he was gone they slew some of the oxen\nand ate their fill. The storm died, and, Ulysses returning, they again\nset sail; but at once came a terrific hurricane, upset the ship, and\ndrowned all of the guilty ones. Ulysses had not eaten the flesh of the\noxen; and he alone was saved, clinging to a spar, and was tossed on the\nisland of the nymph Calypso. After a long sojourn he escaped from here\non a raft. But his old enemy Neptune again raised a storm, which broke\nhis raft; and, naked and almost dead, he was thrown upon another shore,\nfrom which at last the pitying people sent him home. He had been away\ntwenty years.\n\nHis fair wife Penelope had been for four years past pestered with\nsuitors, who declared that Ulysses must be dead. She put them all off,\nby saying that first she must finish a wonderful cloth she was weaving;\nand on this she undid each night what she had done in the day. Meanwhile\nthey stayed in the palace, haughty and insolent, terrifying everybody,\nin defiance of the protests of Ulysses' infant son, now grown to be\nalmost a man.\n\nThe wanderer, coming alone and finding how things were, feared they\nwould slay him; so, disguised as an old beggar man, he went to the\npalace. The suitors mocked him, and then in sport it was proposed to see\nwho could bend the great Ulysses's bow. It was brought out, but none\ncould bend it. The beggar asked leave to try, and they hesitated, but\ngave him leave. Right easily he bent it, and sent then a broad arrow\nthrough the leader of the suitors. Ulysses's son ranged himself by his\nside. Some old servants, recognizing him, did the same; and soon all\nthose parasites were slain. Then was there a royal welcome from wife and\nson, and afterward from kinsmen and friends and servants, for the royal\nwanderer, whom the gods had spared, and who at last was returned home.\n\n\n\n\nAENEAS\n\nBy CHARLOTTE M. YONGE\n\n[Illustration: AEneas.]\n\n\nAmong the Trojans at the fall of Troy there was a prince called AEneas,\nwhose father was Anchises, a cousin of Priam, and whose mother was said\nto be the goddess Venus. When he saw that the city was lost he rushed\nback to his house and took his old father Anchises on his back, giving\nhim his penates, or little images of household gods, to take care of,\nand led by the hand his little son Iulus, or Ascanius, while his wife\nCreusa followed close behind, and all the Trojans who could get their\narms together joined him, so that they escaped in a body to Mount Ida;\nbut just as they were outside the city he missed poor Creusa, and though\nhe rushed back and searched for her everywhere, he never could find her.\nBecause of his care for his gods, and for his old father, he is always\nknown as the pious AEneas.\n\nIn the forests of Mount Ida he built ships enough to set forth with all\nhis followers in quest of the new home which his mother, the goddess\nVenus, gave him hopes of. He had adventures rather like those of Ulysses\nas he sailed about the Mediterranean. Once in the Strophades, some\nclusters belonging to the Ionian Islands, where he and his troops had\nlanded to get food, and were eating the flesh of the numerous goats\nwhich they found climbing about the rocks, down on them came the\nharpies, horrible birds with women's faces and hooked hands, with which\nthey snatched away the food and spoiled what they could not eat. The\nTrojans shot at them, but the arrows glanced off their feathers and did\nnot hurt them. However, they all flew off except one, who sat on a high\nrock, and croaked out that the Trojans would be punished for thus\nmolesting the harpies, by being tossed about till they should reach\nItaly, but there they should not build their city till they should have\nbeen so hungry as to eat their very trenchers.\n\nThey sailed away from this dismal prophetess, and touched on the coast\nof Epirus, where AEneas found his cousin Helenus, son to old Priam,\nreigning over a little new Troy, and married to Andromache, Hector's\nwife, whom he had gained after Pyrrhus had been killed. Helenus was a\nprophet, and he gave AEneas much advice. In especial he said that when\nthe Trojans should come to Italy they would find, under the holly-trees\nby the river-side, a large, white, old sow lying on the ground, with a\nlitter of thirty little pigs round her, and this should be a sign to\nthem where they were to build their city.\n\nBy his advice the Trojans coasted round the south of Sicily, instead of\ntrying to pass the strait between the dreadful Scylla and Charybdis, and\njust below Mount Etna an unfortunate man came running down to the beach\nbegging to be taken in. He was a Greek, who had been left behind when\nUlysses escaped from Polyphemus's cave, and had made his way to the\nforests, where he had lived ever since. They had just taken him in when\nthey saw the Cyclop coming down, with a pine-tree for a staff, to wash\nthe burning hollow of his lost eye in the sea, and they rowed off in\ngreat terror.\n\nPoor old Anchises died shortly after, and while his son was still\nsorrowing for him, Juno, who hated every Trojan, stirred up a terrible\ntempest, which drove the ships to the south, until, just as the sea\nbegan to calm down, they came into a beautiful bay, enclosed by tall\ncliffs with woods overhanging them. Here the tired wanderers landed,\nand, lighting a fire, AEneas went in quest of food. Coming out of the\nforest they looked down from a hill, and beheld a multitude of people\nbuilding a city, raising walls, houses, towers, and temples. Into one of\nthese temples AEneas entered, and to his amazement he found the walls\nsculptured with all the story of the siege of Troy, and all his friends\nso perfectly represented, that he burst into tears at the sight.\n\nJust then a beautiful queen, attended by a whole troop of nymphs, came\ninto the temple. This lady was Dido; her husband, Sichaeus, had been King\nof Tyre, till he was murdered by his brother, Pygmalion, who meant to\nhave married her; but she fled from him with a band of faithful Tyrians\nand all her husband's treasure, and had landed on the north coast of\nAfrica. There she begged of the chief of the country as much land as\ncould be enclosed by a bullock's hide. He granted this readily; and\nDido, cutting the hide into the finest possible strips, managed to\nmeasure off ground enough to build the splendid city which she had named\nCarthage. She received AEneas most kindly, and took all his men into her\ncity, hoping to keep them there forever, and make him her husband. AEneas\nhimself was so happy there that he forgot all his plans and the\nprophecies he had heard, until Jupiter sent Mercury to rouse him to\nfulfil his destiny. He obeyed the call; and Dido was so wretched at his\ndeparture that she caused a great funeral pile to be built, laid herself\non the top, and stabbed herself with AEneas's sword; the pile was burnt,\nand the Trojans saw the flame from their ships without knowing the\ncause.\n\nBy and by AEneas landed at a place in Italy named Cumae. There dwelt one\nof the Sibyls. These were wondrous virgins whom Apollo had endowed with\ndeep wisdom; and when AEneas went to consult the Cumaean Sibyl, she told\nhim that he must visit the under-world of Pluto to learn his fate.\nFirst, however, he had to go into a forest, and find there and gather a\ngolden bough, which he was to bear in his hand to keep him safe. Long he\nsought it, until two doves, his mother's birds, came flying before him\nto show him the tree where gold gleamed through the boughs, and he found\nthe branch growing on the tree as mistletoe grows on the thorn.\n\nGuarded with this, and guided by the Sibyl, after a great sacrifice,\nAEneas passed into a gloomy cave, where he came to the river Styx, round\nwhich flitted all the shades who had never received funeral rites, and\nwhom the ferryman, Charon, would not carry over. The Sibyl, however,\nmade him take AEneas across, his boat groaning under the weight of a\nhuman body. On the other side stood Cerberus, but the Sibyl threw him a\ncake of honey and of some opiate, and he lay asleep, while AEneas passed\non and found in myrtle groves all who had died for love--among them, to\nhis surprise, poor forsaken Dido. A little farther on he found the home\nof the warriors, and held converse with his old Trojan friends. He\npassed by the place of doom for the wicked, Tartarus; and in the Elysian\nFields, full of laurel groves and meads of asphodel, he found the spirit\nof his father Anchises, and with him was allowed to see the souls of all\ntheir descendants, as yet unborn, who should raise the glory of their\nname. They are described on to the very time when the poet wrote to whom\nwe owe all the tale of the wanderings of AEneas, namely, Virgil, who\nwrote the \"AEneid,\" whence all these stories are taken. He further tells\nus that AEneas landed in Italy, just as his old nurse Caieta died, at the\nplace which still is called Gaeta. After they had buried her they found\na grove, where they sat down on the grass to eat, using large round\ncakes or biscuits to put their meat on. Presently they came to eating up\nthe cakes. Little Ascanius cried out, \"We are eating our very tables,\"\nand AEneas, remembering the harpy's words, knew that his wanderings were\nover.\n\nVirgil goes on to tell at much length how the king of the country,\nLatinus, at first made friends with AEneas, and promised him his daughter\nLavinia in marriage; but Turnus, an Italian chief who had before been a\nsuitor to Lavinia, stirred up a great war, and was only conquered and\nkilled after much hard fighting. However, the white sow was found in the\nright place with all her little pigs, and on the spot was founded the\ncity of Alba Longa, where AEneas and Lavinia reigned until he died, and\nhis descendants, through his two sons, Ascanius or Iulus, and AEneas\nSilvius, reigned after him for fifteen generations.\n\n\n\n\nXENOPHON[2]\n\n         [Footnote 2: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess.]\n\nBy PROFESSOR J. PENTLAND MAHAFFY\n\n(445-354 B.C.)\n\n[Illustration: Xenophon.]\n\n\nThere is no figure in Greek history more familiar to us than this famous\nAthenian. There are passages in his life known to every schoolboy; we\npossess all the books he ever wrote; we know therefore his opinions upon\nall the important questions of life, religion, ethics, politics,\nmanners, education, as well as upon finance and military tactics, not to\nspeak of social intercourse and sport. And yet his early youth and late\nage are hidden from us. Like the models of Greek eloquence, which begin\nwith tame obviousness, rise into dignity, fire, pathos, and then close\nsoftly, without sounding peroration, so Xenophon comes upon us, an\neducated young man, looking out for something to do; we lose him in the\nautumn of his life, when he was driven from the fair retreat which the\nold man had hoped would be his final resting-place. During seven years\nof his early manhood we find him in the middle of all the most stirring\nevents in the Greek world. For thirty years later (394-62 B.C.), we hear\nhim from his retired country-seat recording contemporary history,\ntelling the adventures of his youth, from the fascinations of the ragged\nSocrates to the fascinations of the magnificent Cyrus, preaching the\nlessons of his varied life. Then came the bitter loss of his brave son,\nkilled in the van at Mantinea. According to good authority he only\nsurvived this blow a couple of years. But even then he appears to have\nfound distraction from his grief by a dry tract upon the Attic revenue.\nSuch is the general outline which we shall fill up and color from\nallusions throughout his varied and manifold writings.\n\nHe was a pure Athenian, evidently of aristocratic birth, and attracted,\nprobably by his personal beauty, the attention of Socrates, who is said\nto have stopped him in the way, and asked him did he know where men of\nhonor were to be found; upon his replying _no_, the sage said, follow me\nand learn. This apocryphal anecdote, at all events, records the fact\nthat Xenophon attached himself to Socrates's teaching, and so afforded\nus perhaps the most remarkable instance of the great and various\ninfluence of that great teacher. We do not wonder at disciples like\nPlato; but here is a young man of fashion, of a practical turn, and\nloving adventure, who records in after years the teaching after his own\nfashion, and in a perfectly independent way, as the noblest of\ntraining. His youth, however, was spent in the distressful later years\nof the Peloponnesian War, which ended in fearful gloom and disaster for\nhis native city. Intimate, apparently, with the great historian\nThucydides, whose unfinished work he seems to have edited, and\nsubsequently to have continued in his own \"Hellenica,\" he must have long\nforeseen the collapse of the Athenian empire, and then he and many other\nadventurous spirits found themselves in a society faded in prosperity,\nwith no scope for energy or enterprise. Such was the somewhat tame and\nvulgar Athens which succeeded to that of Pericles and Aristophanes, and\nwhich could not tolerate the spiritual boldness of Socrates. He tells us\nhimself, in the third book of his \"Anabasis,\" how he was tempted to\nleave Athens for the East by his friend Proxenus, who had made the\nacquaintance of the chivalrous and ambitious Cyrus, brother of the\nPersian king, and governor of southern Asia Minor. This prince was\npreparing secretly to invade Persia and dethrone his brother, and for\nthat purpose was gathering troops and courting the favor of the Greeks.\nHis splendid gifts were on a scale sufficient to dazzle men of small\nmeans and smaller prospects, like the youth of conquered Athens.\nXenophon thought it right to consult his spiritual guide, Socrates, on\nthe propriety of abandoning his country for hireling service. The\nphilosopher advised him to consult the oracle at Delphi, but the young\nman only asked what gods he might best conciliate before his departure,\nand Socrates, though noting the evasion of his advice, acquiesced.\n\nWhen Xenophon arrived at Sardis, Proxenus presented him to Cyrus, who\ninvited him to accompany him on his pretended campaign to Pisidia, and\nthen coaxed him on with the rest into his enterprise against the king\nArtaxerxes. On this expedition or _anabasis_ up the country, Xenophon\nwas only a volunteer, with no command, and under no man's orders, but\naccompanying the army on horseback, and enjoying the trip as a bright\nyoung man, well appointed by the prince, and full of intelligent\ncuriosity, was sure to enjoy it. But then came the decisive day of\nCunaxa, where Xenophon offered his services as an extra aide-de-camp to\nCyrus, and where he witnessed the victory of his countrymen and the\ndefeat of their cause by the rashness and death of Cyrus. In the crisis\nwhich followed he took no leading part, till the generals of the 10,000\nGreeks were entrapped and murdered by Tissaphernes. Then, in the midst\nof the panic and despair which supervened, he tells us in graphic words\nhow he came to be a leader of men. He, too, with the rest, was in sore\ndistress, and could not sleep; but anon getting a snatch of rest he had\na dream. It seemed to him that there was a storm, and a thunderbolt fell\non his father's house and set it all in a blaze. He sprang up in terror,\nand, pondering the matter, decided that in part the dream was good, in\nthat when in great danger he had seen a light from Zeus; but partly,\ntoo, he feared it, for it came from the king of heaven. But as soon as\nhe was fully awake the first clear thought that came into his head was:\n\"Why am I lying here? The night advances, and with the coming day the\nenemy will be upon us. If we fall into the king's hands we must face\ntorture, slavery, and death, and yet here we lie, as if it were a time\nfor rest! What am I waiting for? Is it a general to lead me? and where\nis he? or till I am myself of riper age to command? Older I shall never\nbe, if to-day I surrender to mine enemies.\" And so he rouses the\nofficers of his murdered friend, Proxenos, and appeals to them all to be\nup and stirring, to organize their defence and appoint new leaders to\ndirect them. Before dawn he has some kind of confidence restored, and\nthe new organization in progress. Presently the Persians send to demand\nthe surrender of the army whose generals they had seized, and find to\ntheir astonishment that their task of subduing the Greeks must begin\nafresh. Meanwhile the policy of the Greek army becomes defined. They\nthreaten to settle in Mesopotamia and build a fortified city which shall\nbe a great danger and a torment to the king. They really desire to\nescape to the coast, if they can but find the way.\n\nIt was the king's policy to let them depart, but so harass them by the\nway as to produce disorder and rout, which meant absolute destruction.\nIt was in conducting this retreat, as a joint general with the Spartan\nCheirisophos, that Xenophon showed all his resource. There were no great\npitched battles; no room for strategy or large combinations; but ample\nscope for resource in the details of tactics for meeting new and sudden\ndifficulties, for maintaining order among an army of men that only\nacknowledged leaders for their ability. At first, in the plains, as they\njourneyed northward, the danger was from the Persian cavalry, for their\nown contingent had deserted to the enemy. This difficulty, which\nwell-nigh ruined the 10,000, as it ruined Crassus in his retreat at\nCarrhae, he met by organizing a corps of Rhodian slingers and archers,\nwhose range was longer than that of the Persians, and who thus kept the\ncavalry in check. When the plains were passed, and the mountains\nreached, there arose the new difficulties of forcing passes, of\nrepelling wild mountaineers from positions commanding the road, of\nproviding food, and avoiding false routes. The narrative of the\nsurmounting of all these obstacles with tact and temper is the main\nsubject of the famous \"Anabasis.\" Still graver dangers awaited Xenophon\nwhen the retreating army had at last hailed the welcome sea--the Black\nSea--and with returning safety returned jealousies, insubordinations,\nand the great problem what to do with this great army when it arrived at\nGreek cities. Xenophon had always dreamt of forming on the border of\nHellenedom a new city state, which should honor him as its founder. The\nwilder spirits thought it simpler to loot some rich city like Byzantium,\nwhich was saved with difficulty from their lawlessness. The Spartan\ngovernors, who now ruled throughout the Greek world, saw the danger, and\nwere determined to delay and worry the dangerous horde until it\ndissipated; and they succeeded so well that presently the 6,000 that\nremained were glad to be led by Xenophon to take service under the\nSpartan commander Thibron in Asia Minor (399 B.C.). But Xenophon was not\ngiven any independent command. He appears to have acted on the staff of\nthe successive Spartan commanders till with King Agesilaus he attained\npersonal influence, and probably planned the new expedition of that king\nto conquer Persia, which was only balked by a diversion wrought by\nPersian gold in Greece. With Agesilaus Xenophon returned therefore to\nGreece, and was present at the great shock of the rival infantries, the\nTheban and the Spartan, at Coronea (394 B.C.). But either his presence\nin the Spartan army, or his former action against the King of Persia,\nwhom shifting politics were now bringing over to the Athenian side,\ncaused him to be sentenced to banishment at Athens, and so made his\nreturn to his native city impossible. He went, therefore, with his royal\npatron to Sparta, and sojourned there for some time, even sending for\nhis sons, now growing boys, from Miletus, and submitting them, at\nAgesilaus's advice, to the famous Spartan education. They grew up fine\nand warlike young men, so that the death of one of them, Gryllus, in a\ncavalry skirmish just before the great battle of Mantinea (362 B.C.)\ncaused universal regret. But long before this catastrophe the Spartans\ngave Xenophon possession of an estate at Skillus, near the famous\nOlympia, which combined the pleasures of seclusion and of field sports\nwith those of varied society when the stream of visitors assembled for\nthe Olympic games (every four years). He himself tells us that he and\nhis family, in company with their neighbors, had excellent sport of all\nkinds. He was not only a careful farmer, but so keen at hunting hares\nthat he declares a man at this delightful pursuit \"will forget that he\never cared for anything else.\" He had also built a shrine to his\npatroness, the goddess Artemis, and the solemn sacrifices at her shrine\nwere the occasion of feasts, whose solemnity only enhanced their\nenjoyments. As Mr. Dakyns writes: \"The lovely scenery of the place, to\nthis day lovely; the delicious atmosphere; the rare combination of\nmountain, wood, and stream; the opportunity for sport; the horses and\nthe dogs; the household, the farmstead, and their varying occupations;\nthe neighboring country gentlemen, and the local politics; the recurring\nfestival at Olympia with its stream of visitors; the pleasures of\nhospitable entertainment; the constant sacrifices before the cedar image\nof Artemis in her temple--these things, and above all the serene\nsatisfaction of successful literary labors, combined to form an enviable\nsum total of sober happiness during many years.\" There can be no doubt\nthat this was the first great period of his literary activity, though he\nmay have edited, in early youth, his predecessor Thucydides, and\ncomposed the first two books of his historical continuation entitled\n\"Hellenica.\" In his retreat at Skillus he composed a series of\n\"Dialogues,\" in what is termed the Socratic vein; \"Memorials\" of his\ngreat master, a tract on household \"Economy,\" another on a \"Symposium,\"\nor feast, one called \"Hiero,\" or on the Greek tyrant, and an account of\nthe \"Laconian Polity,\" which he had so long admired and known. The tract\non \"Hunting\" also speaks the experience at Skillus. The tract \"On the\nAthenian State,\" preserved among his writings, is not from his hand, but\nthe work of an earlier writer.\n\nWith the sudden rise of the Theban power, and consequent depression of\nSparta, he and other settlers around Skillus were driven out by the\nEleans, and he lost his country-seat, with all its agreeable diversions.\nBut probably the ageing man did not feel the transference of his home to\nCorinth so keenly as an English gentleman would. He was a thorough\nGreek, and therefore intensely attached to city life, Elis, his adopted\ncountry, being the only state which consisted of a country gentry.\n\nIn the next place, a daily thoroughfare such as the Isthmus, must have\nbeen far more suitable for the collecting of historical evidence than\nSkillus, where the crowd came by only once in four years. And then his\ngrown-up sons could find something more serious to do than hunting deer,\nboars, and hares in the glades of Elis. He may have known, too, that his\nchances of restoration to Athens were improving, and that he would do\nwell to be within easy reach of friends in that city. Indeed we find\nthat the rescinding of exile soon followed, and so he was able to send\nhis two sons to do cavalry duty for Athens (and Sparta) against the\nThebans. It is, indeed, likely that the young men were enrolled as\nSpartan volunteers. He himself must have kept very close to his literary\nwork; for in these closing years of his life he brought out or re-edited\nthe \"Anabasis;\" he discussed \"Cavalry Tactics,\" he kept writing up\ncontemporary history to the year 362 B.C., when the star of Thebes set\nwith the death of Epaminondas; he completed his long and perhaps tedious\nhistorical novel, the \"Education of Cyrus\" (the elder), and lastly\ncomposed a curious and fanciful tract on the \"Revenues of Athens.\" There\nis no evidence that he ever changed his residence back to his native\ncity, but that he often went there when no obstacle remained, from the\nneighboring Corinth, is most probable. An open sailing boat could carry\nhim, with a fair wind, in a few hours. Though a very old man, he was,\nhowever, still active with his pen when we lose him. His promising\nremaining son disappears with him from the scene; we hear of no\ndescendants. The only offspring he has left us are his immortal works.\nThe names of these have already been given, with the exception of the\nspeech put into Socrates's mouth as his Defence, the tract on \"The\nHorse,\" appendant to his \"Cavalry Tactics,\" and his \"Panegyric on\nAgesilaus.\" It remains to estimate their general features. Without\ncontroversy, he excelled all his great contemporaries in breadth of\nculture and experience, and in the variety of his interests. Philosophy,\npolitics, war, husbandry, sport, travel, are all represented in his\nworks. And upon all he has written with a clearness and a grace which\nearned for him the title of the \"Attic Bee.\" But this breadth implies\n(as usual) a certain lack of depth, as is particularly obvious in his\ncase, owing to the almost necessary comparison with his two mighty\nrivals--Thucydides, in history, Plato, in philosophy. It may, indeed, be\nconsidered hard luck for him that he stood between two such men, for\nthey have necessarily damaged his reputation by comparison. Xenophon's\nportrait of Socrates is quite independent, and probably historically\ntruer than that of Plato; but the sage lives for us in Plato, not in\nXenophon. The Retreat of the Ten Thousand, and the wars of Epaminondas\nwere far more brilliant than the operations of the Peloponnesian War.\nYet, to the scholar, a raid in Thucydides is more than a campaign in\nXenophon. For neither is his style so pure as that of either of his\nrivals, nor is his enthusiasm the same. We feel him always a polished\nman of the world--never the rugged patriot, never the rapt seer. He\nseems, too, to lack impartiality. He lavishes praise upon Agesilaus, a\nsecond-rate man, while he is curt and ill-tempered concerning\nEpaminondas, the real genius of the age. It is more than likely that he\nhas colored his own part in the famous \"Retreat,\" in glowing colors.\nHis hereditary instincts lead him to approve of autocrats as against\nrepublics, Spartan discipline as against Attic freedom. Yet in himself\nhe has shown a striking example how the latter could appreciate and\nembrace the former. As the simplest specimen of pure Attic prose he will\never be paramount in schools, neglected in universities--the recreation\nrather than the occupation of mature scholars. He is a great worthy, a\nman of renown; \"nevertheless, he did not attain unto the first\nthree\"--the two masters of his own day, and the colossal Demosthenes.\n\n[Signature: J. Pentland Mahaffy.]\n\n\n\n\nTHE GRACCHI\n\nExtracts from \"Caesar, a Sketch,\" by JAMES ANTHONY FROUDE, LL.D.\n(164-133, 153-121 B.C.)\n\n[Illustration: The Gracchi.]\n\n\nTiberius Gracchus was born about the year 164 B.C. He was one of twelve\nchildren, nine of whom died in infancy, himself, his brother Caius, and\nhis sister Cornelia being the only survivors. His family was plebeian,\nbut of high antiquity, his ancestors for several generations having held\nthe highest offices in the Republic. On the mother's side he was the\ngrandson of Scipio Africanus. His father, after a distinguished career\nas a soldier in Spain and Sardinia, had attempted reforms at Rome. He\nhad been censor, and in this capacity he had ejected disreputable\nsenators from the Curia; he had degraded offending Equites; he had\nrearranged and tried to purify the Comitia. But his connections were\naristocratic. His wife was the daughter of the most famous of them,\nScipio Africanus the Younger. He had been himself in antagonism with the\ntribunes, and had taken no part, at any time, in popular agitations.\n\n[Illustration: The Mother of the Gracchi.]\n\nThe father died when Tiberius was still a boy, and the two brothers grew\nup under the care of their mother, a noble and gifted lady. They early\ndisplayed remarkable talents. Tiberius, when old enough, went into the\narmy, and served under his brother-in-law in the last Carthaginian\ncampaign. He was first on the walls of the city in the final storm. Ten\nyears later he went to Spain as quaestor, when he carried on his father's\npopularity, and by taking the people's side in some questions, fell into\ndisagreement with his brother-in-law. His political views had perhaps\nalready inclined to change. He was still of an age when indignation\nat oppression calls out a practical desire to resist it. On his journey\nhome from Spain he witnessed scenes which confirmed his conviction and\ndetermined him to throw all his energies into the popular cause. His\nroad lay through Tuscany, where he saw the large estate system in full\noperation--the fields cultivated by the slave gangs, the free citizens\nof the Republic thrust away into the towns, aliens and outcasts in their\nown country, without a foot of soil which they could call their own. In\nTuscany, too, the vast domains of the landlords had not even been fairly\npurchased. They were parcels of the _ager publicus_, land belonging to\nthe state, which, in spite of a law forbidding it, the great lords and\ncommoners had appropriated and divided among themselves. Five hundred\nacres of state land was the most which by statute any one lessee might\nbe allowed to occupy. But the law was obsolete or sleeping, and avarice\nand vanity were awake and active. Young Gracchus, in indignant pity,\nresolved to rescue the people's patrimony. He was chosen tribune in the\nyear 133. His brave mother and a few patricians of the old type\nencouraged him, and the battle of the revolution began. The Senate, as\nhas been said, though without direct legislative authority, had been\nallowed the right of reviewing any new schemes which were to be\nsubmitted to the Assembly. The constitutional means of preventing\ntribunes from carrying unwise or unwelcome measures lay in a consul's\nveto, or in the help of the College of Augurs, who could declare the\nauspices unfavorable and so close all public business. These resources\nwere so awkward that it had been found convenient to secure beforehand\nthe Senate's approbation, and the encroachment, being long submitted to,\nwas passing by custom into a rule. But the Senate, eager as it was, had\nnot yet succeeded in engrafting the practice into the constitution. On\nthe land question the leaders of the aristocracy were the principal\noffenders.\n\nDisregarding usage, and conscious that the best men of all ranks were\nwith him, Tiberius Gracchus appealed directly to the people to revive\nthe Agrarian law. His proposals were not extravagant. That they should\nhave been deemed extravagant was a proof of how much some measure of the\nkind was needed. Where lands had been enclosed and money laid out on\nthem, he was willing that the occupants should have compensation. But\nthey had no right to the lands themselves. Gracchus persisted that the\n_ager publicus_ belonged to the people, and that the race of yeomen, for\nwhose protection the law had been originally passed, must be\nre-established on their farms. No form of property gives to its owners\nso much consequence as land, and there is no point on which in every\ncountry an aristocracy is more sensitive. The large owners protested\nthat they had purchased their interests on the faith that the law was\nobsolete. They had planted and built and watered with the sanction of\nthe government, and to call their titles in question was to shake the\nfoundations of society. The popular party pointed to the statute. The\nmonopolists were entitled in justice to less than was offered them. They\nhad no right to a compensation at all. Political passion awoke again\nafter the sleep of a century. The oligarchy had doubtless connived at\nthe accumulations. The suppression of the small holdings favored their\nsupremacy, and placed the elections more completely in their control.\nTheir military successes had given them so long a tenure of power that\nthey had believed it to be theirs in perpetuity; and the new sedition,\nas they called it, threatened at once their privileges and their\nfortunes. The quarrel assumed the familiar form of a struggle between\nthe rich and the poor, and at such times the mob of voters becomes less\neasy to corrupt. They go with their order, as the prospect of larger\ngain makes them indifferent to immediate bribes. It became clear that\nthe majority of the citizens would support Tiberius Gracchus, but the\nconstitutional forms of opposition might still be resorted to. Octavius\nCaecina, another of the tribunes, had himself large interests in the land\nquestion. He was the people's magistrate, one of the body appointed\nespecially to defend their rights, but he went over to the Senate, and,\nusing a power which undoubtedly belonged to him, he forbade the vote to\nbe taken.\n\nThere was no precedent for the removal of either consul, praetor, or\ntribune, except under circumstances very different from any which could\nas yet be said to have arisen. The magistrates held office for a year\nonly, and the power of veto had been allowed them expressly to secure\ntime for deliberation and to prevent passionate legislation. But\nGracchus was young and enthusiastic. Precedent or no precedent, the\ncitizens were omnipotent, he invited them to declare his colleague\ndeposed. They had warmed to the fight, and complied. A more experienced\nstatesman would have known that established constitutional bulwarks\ncannot be swept away by a momentary vote. He obtained his Agrarian law.\nThree commissioners were appointed, himself, his younger brother, and\nhis father-in-law, Appius Claudius, to carry it into effect; but the\nvery names showed that he had alienated his few supporters in the higher\ncircles, and that a single family was now contending against the united\nwealth and distinction of Rome. The issue was only too certain. Popular\nenthusiasm is but a fire of straw. In a year Tiberius Gracchus would be\nout of office. Other tribunes would be chosen more amenable to\ninfluence, and his work could then be undone. He evidently knew that\nthose who would succeed him could not be relied on to carry on his\npolicy. He had taken one revolutionary step already; he was driven on to\nanother, and he offered himself illegally to the Comitia for\nre-election. It was to invite them to abolish the constitution, and to\nmake him virtual sovereign; and that a young man of thirty should have\ncontemplated such a position for himself as possible, is of itself a\nproof of his unfitness for it. The election day came. The noble lords\nand gentlemen appeared in the Campus Martius with their retinues of\narmed servants and clients; hot-blooded aristocrats, full of disdain for\ndemagogues, and meaning to read a lesson to sedition which it would not\neasily forget. Votes were given for Gracchus. Had the hustings been left\nto decide the matter, he would have been chosen; but as it began to\nappear how the polling would go, sticks were used and swords; a riot\nrose, the unarmed citizens were driven off, Tiberius Gracchus himself\nand three hundred of his friends were killed, and their bodies were\nflung into the Tiber.\n\nThus the first sparks of the coming revolution were trampled out. But\nthough quenched and to be again quenched with fiercer struggles, it was\nto smoulder and smoke and burst out time after time, till its work was\ndone. Revolution could not restore the ancient character of the Roman\nnation, but it could check the progress of decay by burning away the\nmore corrupted parts of it. It could destroy the aristocracy and the\nconstitution which they had depraved, and under other forms preserve for\na few more centuries the Roman dominion. Scipio Africanus, when he heard\nin Spain of the end of his brother-in-law, exclaimed \"May all who act as\nhe did perish like him!\" There were to be victims enough and to spare\nbefore the bloody drama was played out. Quiet lasted for ten years, and\nthen, precisely when he had reached his brother's age, Caius Gracchus\ncame forward to avenge him, and carry the movement through another\nstage. Young Caius had been left one of the commissioners of the land\nlaw; and it is particularly noticeable that, though the author of it had\nbeen killed, the law had survived him, being too clearly right and\npolitic in itself to be openly set aside. For two years the\ncommissioners had continued to work, and in that time forty thousand\nfamilies were settled on various parts of the _ager publicus_, which the\npatricians had been compelled to resign. This was all which they could\ndo. The displacement of one set of inhabitants and the introduction of\nanother could not be accomplished without quarrels, complaints, and\nperhaps some injustice. Those who entered on possession were not always\nsatisfied. The commissioners became unpopular. When the cries against\nthem became loud enough, they were suspended, and the law was then\nquietly repealed. The Senate had regained its hold over the Assembly,\nand had a further opportunity of showing its recovered ascendency when,\ntwo years after the murder of Tiberius Gracchus, one of his friends\nintroduced a bill to make the tribunes legally re-eligible. Caius\nGracchus actively supported the change, but it had no success; and,\nwaiting till times had altered, and till he had arrived at an age when\nhe could carry weight, the young brother retired from politics, and\nspent the next few years with the army in Africa and Sardinia, he served\nwith distinction; he made a name for himself, both as a soldier and an\nadministrator. Had the Senate left him alone, he might have been\nsatisfied with a regular career, and have risen by the ordinary steps to\nthe consulship. But the Senate saw in him the possibilities of a second\nTiberius; the higher his reputation, the more formidable he became to\nthem. They vexed him with petty prosecutions, charged him with crimes\nwhich had no existence, and at length, by suspicion and injustice, drove\nhim into open war with them. Caius Gracchus had a broader intellect than\nhis brother, and a character considerably less noble. The land question\nhe perceived was but one of many questions. The true source of the\ndisorders of the commonwealth was the Senate itself. The administration\nof the empire was in the hands of men totally unfit to be trusted with\nit, and there he thought the reform must commence. He threw himself on\nthe people, he was chosen tribune in 123, ten years exactly after\nTiberius. He had studied the disposition of parties. He had seen his\nbrother fall because the Equites and the senators, the great commoners\nand the nobles, were combined against him. He revived the Agrarian law\nas a matter of course, but he disarmed the opposition to it by throwing\nan apple of discord between the two superior orders. The high judicial\nfunctions in the commonwealth had been hitherto a senatorial monopoly.\nAll cases of importance, civil or criminal, came before courts of sixty\nor seventy jurymen, who, as the law stood, must be necessarily senators.\nThe privilege had been extremely lucrative. The corruption of justice\nwas already notorious, though it had not yet reached the level of infamy\nwhich it attained in another generation. It was no secret that in\nordinary causes jurymen had sold their verdicts, and, far short of\ntaking bribes in the direct sense of the word, there were many ways in\nwhich they could let themselves be approached, and their favor\npurchased. A monopoly of privileges is always invidious. A monopoly in\nthe sale of justice is alike hateful to those who abhor iniquity on\nprinciple, and to those who would like to share the profits of it. But\nthis was not the worst. The governors of the provinces, being chosen\nfrom those who had been consuls or praetors, were necessarily members of\nthe Senate. Peculation and extortion in these high functions were\noffences, in theory, of the gravest kind; but the offender could only be\ntried before a limited number of his peers, and a governor who had\nplundered a subject state, sold justice, pillaged temples, and stolen\nall that he could lay hands on, was safe from punishment if he returned\nto Rome a millionnaire and would admit others to a share in his spoils.\nThe provincials might send deputations to complain, but these complaints\ncame before men who had themselves governed provinces, or else aspired\nto govern them. It had been proved in too many instances that the law\nwhich professed to protect them was a mere mockery.\n\nCaius Gracchus secured the affections of the knights to himself, and\nsome slightly increased chance of an improvement in the provincial\nadministration, by carrying a law in the Assembly disabling the senators\nfrom sitting on juries of any kind from that day forward, and\ntransferring the judicial functions to the Equites. How bitterly must\nsuch a measure have been resented by the Senate, which at once robbed\nthem of their protective and profitable privileges, handed them over to\nbe tried by their rivals for their pleasant irregularities, and stamped\nthem at the same time with the brand of dishonesty! How certainly must\nsuch a measure have been deserved when neither consul nor tribune could\nbe found to interpose his vote! Supported by the grateful knights, Caius\nGracchus was for the moment all-powerful. It was not enough to restore\nthe Agrarian law. He passed another aimed at his brother's murderers,\nwhich was to bear fruit in later years, that no Roman citizen might be\nput to death by any person, however high in authority, without legal\ntrial, and without appeal, if he chose to make it, to the sovereign\npeople. A blow was thus struck against another right claimed by the\nSenate, of declaring the Republic in danger, and the temporary\nsuspension of the constitution. These measures might be excused, and\nperhaps commended; but the younger Gracchus connected his name with\nanother change less commendable, which was destined also to survive and\nbear fruit. He brought forward and carried through, with enthusiastic\nclapping of every pair of hands in Rome that were hardened with labor, a\nproposal that there should be public granaries in the city, maintained\nand filled at the cost of the state, and that corn should be sold at a\nrate artificially cheap to the poor free citizens. Such a law was purely\nsocialistic. The privilege was confined to Rome, because in Rome the\nelections were held, and the Roman constituency was the one depositary\nof power. The effect was to gather into the city a mob of needy\nunemployed voters, living on the charity of the state, to crowd the\ncircus and to clamor at the elections, available no doubt immediately to\nstrengthen the hands of the popular tribune, but certain in the long run\nto sell themselves to those who could bid highest for their voices.\nExcuses could be found, no doubt, for this miserable expedient, in the\nstate of parties, in the unscrupulous violence of the aristocracy, in\nthe general impoverishment of the peasantry through the land monopoly,\nand in the intrusion upon Italy of a gigantic system of slave labor. But\nnone the less it was the deadliest blow which had yet been dealt to the\nconstitution. Party government turns on the majorities at the polling\nplaces, and it was difficult afterward to recall a privilege which, once\nconceded, appeared to be a right. The utmost that could be ventured in\nlater times, with any prospect of success, was to limit an intolerable\nevil, and if one side was ever strong enough to make the attempt, their\nrivals had a bribe ready in their hands to buy back the popular support.\nCaius Gracchus, however, had his way, and carried all before him. He\nescaped the rock on which his brother had been wrecked. He was elected\ntribune a second time. He might have had a third term if he had been\ncontented to be a mere demagogue. But he, too, like Tiberius, had\nhonorable aims. The powers which he had played into the hands of the mob\nto obtain, he desired to use for high purposes of statesmanship, and his\ninstrument broke in his hands. He was too wise to suppose that a Roman\nmob, fed by bounties from the treasury, could permanently govern the\nworld. He had schemes for scattering Roman colonies, with the Roman\nfranchise, at various points of the empire.\n\nCarthage was to be one of them. He thought of abolishing the distinction\nbetween Romans and Italians, and enfranchising the entire peninsula.\nThese measures were good in themselves--essential, indeed, if the Roman\nconquests were to form a compact and permanent dominion. But the object\nwas not attainable on the road on which Gracchus had entered. The\nvagabond part of the constituency was well contented with what it had\nobtained, a life in the city, supported at the public expense, with\npolitics and games for its amusements. It had not the least inclination\nto be drafted off into settlements in Spain or Africa, where there would\nbe work instead of pleasant idleness. Carthage was still a name of\nterror. To restore Carthage was no better than treason. Still less had\nthe Roman citizens an inclination to share their privileges with\nSamnites and Etruscans, and see the value of their votes watered down.\nPolitical storms are always cyclones. The gale from the east to-day is a\ngale from the west to-morrow. Who and what were the Gracchi, then?--the\nsweet voices began to ask--ambitious intriguers, aiming at dictatorship,\nor perhaps the crown. The aristocracy were right, after all; a few\nthings had gone wrong, but these had been amended. The Scipios and\nMetelli had conquered the world: the Scipios and Metelli were alone fit\nto govern it. Thus, when the election time came round, the party of\nreform was reduced to a minority of irreconcilable radicals, who were\neasily disposed of. Again, as ten years before, the noble lords armed\ntheir followers. Riots broke out and extended day after day. Caius\nGracchus was at last killed, as his brother had been, and under cover of\nthe disturbance three thousand of his friends were killed along with\nhim. The power being again securely in their hands, the Senate proceeded\nat their leisure, and the surviving patriots who were in any way\nnotorious or dangerous were hunted down in legal manner, and put to\ndeath or banished.\n\n\n\n\nZENOBIA, QUEEN OF PALMYRA\n\nBy ANNA JAMESON\n\n(REIGNED 267-273 A.D.)\n\n[Illustration: Zenobia.]\n\n\nOf the government and manners of the Arabians before the time of\nMahomet, we have few and imperfect accounts; but from the remotest ages\nthey led the same unsettled and predatory life which they do at this\nday, dispersed in hordes, and dwelling under tents. It was not to those\nwild and wandering tribes that the superb Palmyra owed its rise and\ngrandeur, though situated in the midst of their deserts, where it is now\nbeheld in its melancholy beauty and ruined splendor, like an enchanted\nisland in the midst of an ocean of sands. The merchants who trafficked\nbetween India and Europe, by the only route then known, first colonized\nthis singular spot, which afforded them a convenient resting-place; and\neven in the days of Solomon it was the emporium for the gems and gold,\nthe ivory, gums, spices, and silks of the far Eastern countries, which\nthus found their way to the remotest parts of Europe. The Palmyrenes\nwere, therefore, a mixed race--their origin, and many of their customs,\nwere Egyptian; their love of luxury and their manners were derived from\nPersia; their language, literature, and architecture were Greek.\n\nThus, like Venice and Genoa, in more modern times, Palmyra owed its\nsplendor to the opulence and public spirit of its merchants; but its\nchief fame and historical interest it owes to the genius and heroism of\na woman.\n\n[Illustration: Zenobia Captive.]\n\nSeptimia Zenobia, for such is her classical appellation, was the\ndaughter of an Arab chief, Amrou, the son of Dharb, the son of Hassan.\nOf her first husband we have no account; she was left a widow at a\nvery early age, and married, secondly, Odenathus, chief of several\ntribes of the desert, near Palmyra, and a prince of extraordinary valor\nand boundless ambition. Odenathus was the ally of the Romans in their\nwars against Sapor (or, more properly, Shah Poor), king of Persia; he\ngained several splendid victories over that powerful monarch, and twice\npursued his armies even to the gates of Ctesiphon (or Ispahan), his\ncapital. Odenathus was as fond of the chase as of war, and in all his\nmilitary and hunting expeditions he was accompanied by his wife\nZenobia--a circumstance which the Roman historians record with\nastonishment and admiration, as contrary to their manners, but which was\nthe general custom of the Arab women of that time. Zenobia not only\nexcelled her countrywomen in the qualities for which they were all\nremarkable--in courage, prudence, and fortitude, in patience of fatigue,\nand activity of mind and body--she also possessed a more enlarged\nunderstanding; her views were more enlightened, her habits more\nintellectual. The successes of Odenathus were partly attributed to her,\nand they were always considered as reigning jointly. She was also\neminently beautiful--with the oriental eyes and complexion, teeth like\npearls, and a voice of uncommon power and sweetness.\n\nOdenathus obtained from the Romans the title of Augustus, and General of\nthe East; he revenged the fate of Valerian, who had been taken captive\nand put to death by Shah Poor: the eastern king, with a luxurious\nbarbarity truly oriental, is said to have used the unfortunate emperor\nas his footstool to mount his horse. But in the midst of his victories\nand conquests Odenathus became the victim of a domestic conspiracy, at\nthe head of which was his nephew Maeonius. He was assassinated at Emessa\nduring a hunting expedition, and with him his son by his first marriage.\nZenobia avenged the death of her husband on his murderers, and as her\nsons were yet in their infancy, she first exercised the supreme power in\ntheir name; but afterward, apparently with the consent of the people,\nassumed the diadem with the titles of Augusta and Queen of the East.\n\nThe Romans, and their effeminate emperor Gallienus, refused to\nacknowledge Zenobia's claim to the sovereignty of her husband's\ndominions, and Heraclianus was sent with a large army to reduce her to\nobedience; but Zenobia took the field against him, engaged and totally\ndefeated him in a pitched battle. Not satisfied with this triumph over\nthe haughty masters of the world, she sent her general Zabdas to attack\nthem in Egypt, which she subdued and added to her territories, together\nwith a part of Armenia and Asia Minor. Thus her dominions extended from\nthe Euphrates to the Mediterranean, and over all those vast and fertile\ncountries formerly governed by Ptolemy and Seleucus. Jerusalem, Antioch,\nDamascus, and other cities famed in history, were included in her\nempire, but she fixed her residence at Palmyra, and in an interval of\npeace she turned her attention to the further adornment of her\nmagnificent capital. It is related by historians, that many of those\nstupendous fabrics of which the mighty ruins are still existing, were\neither erected, or at least restored and embellished, by this\nextraordinary woman. But that which we have most difficulty in\nreconciling with the manners of her age and country, was Zenobia's\npassion for study, and her taste for the Greek and Latin literature.\nShe is said to have drawn up an epitome of history for her own use; the\nGreek historians, poets, and philosophers were familiar to her; she\ninvited Longinus, one of the most elegant writers of antiquity, to her\nsplendid court, and appointed him her secretary and minister. For her he\ncomposed his famous \"Treatise on the Sublime,\" a work which is not only\nadmirable for its intrinsic excellence, but most valuable as having\npreserved to our times many beautiful fragments of ancient poets whose\nworks are now lost, particularly those of Sappho.\n\nThe classical studies of Zenobia seem to have inspired her with some\ncontempt for her Arab ancestry. She was fond of deriving her origin from\nthe Macedonian kings of Egypt, and of reckoning Cleopatra among her\nprogenitors. In imitation of the famous Egyptian queen, she affected\ngreat splendor in her style of living and in her attire; and drank her\nwine out of cups of gold richly carved and adorned with gems. It is,\nhowever, admitted that in female dignity and discretion, as well as in\nbeauty, she far surpassed Cleopatra. She administered the government of\nher empire with such admirable prudence and policy, and in particular\nwith such strict justice toward all classes of her subjects, that she\nwas beloved by her own people, and respected and feared by the\nneighboring nations. She paid great attention to the education of her\nthree sons, habited them in the Roman purple, and brought them up in the\nRoman fashion. But this predilection for the Greek and Roman manners\nappears to have displeased and alienated the Arab tribes; for it is\nremarked that after this time their fleet cavalry, inured to the deserts\nand unequalled as horsemen, no longer formed the strength of her army.\n\nWhile Gallienus and Claudius governed the Roman empire, Zenobia was\nallowed to pursue her conquests, rule her dominions, and enjoy her\ntriumphs almost without opposition; but at length the fierce and active\nAurelian was raised to the purple, and he was indignant that a woman\nshould thus brave with impunity the offended majesty of Rome. Having\nsubdued all his competitors in the West, he turned his arms against the\nQueen of the East. Zenobia, undismayed by the terrors of the Roman name,\nlevied troops, placed herself at their head, and gave the second command\nto Zabdas, a brave, and hitherto successful, general. The first great\nbattle took place near Antioch; Zenobia was totally defeated after an\nobstinate conflict; but, not disheartened by this reverse, she retired\nupon Emessa, rallied her armies, and once more defied the Roman emperor.\nBeing again defeated with great loss, and her army nearly dispersed, the\nhigh-spirited queen withdrew to Palmyra, collected her friends around\nher, strengthened her fortifications, and declared her resolution to\ndefend her capital and her freedom to the last moment of her existence.\n\nZenobia was conscious of the great difficulties which would attend the\nsiege of a great city, well stored with provisions and naturally\ndefended by surrounding deserts; these deserts were infested by clouds\nof Arabs, who, appearing and disappearing with the swiftness and\nsuddenness of a whirlwind, continually harassed her enemies. Thus\ndefended without, and supported by a strong garrison within, Zenobia\nbraved her antagonist from the towers of Palmyra as boldly as she had\ndefied him in the field of battle. The expectation of succors from the\nEast added to her courage, and determined her to persevere to the last.\n\"Those,\" said Aurelian in one of his letters, \"who speak with contempt\nof the war I am waging against a woman, are ignorant both of the\ncharacter and power of Zenobia. It is impossible to enumerate her\nwarlike preparations of stones, of arrows, and of every species of\nmissile weapons and military engines.\"\n\nAurelian, in fact, became doubtful of the event of the siege, and he\noffered the queen the most honorable terms of capitulation if she would\nsurrender to his arms; but Zenobia, who was aware that famine raged in\nthe Roman camp, and daily looked for the expected relief, rejected his\nproposals in a famous Greek epistle, written with equal arrogance and\neloquence; she defied the utmost of his power; and, alluding to the fate\nof Cleopatra, expressed her resolution to die like her rather than yield\nto the Roman arms. Aurelian was incensed by this haughty letter, even\nmore than by dangers and delays attending the siege; he redoubled his\nefforts, he cut off the succors she expected; he found means to subsist\nhis troops even in the midst of the desert; every day added to the\nnumber and strength of his army, every day increased the difficulties of\nZenobia, and the despair of the Palmyrenes. The city could not hold out\nmuch longer, and the queen resolved to fly, not to insure her own\nsafety, but to bring relief to her capital--such at least is the excuse\nmade for a part of her conduct which certainly requires apology. Mounted\non a fleet dromedary, she contrived to elude the vigilance of the\nbesiegers, and took the road to the Euphrates; but she was pursued by a\nparty of the Roman light cavalry, overtaken, and brought as a captive\ninto the presence of Aurelian. He sternly demanded how she had dared to\noppose the power of Rome? to which she replied, with a mixture of\nfirmness and gentleness, \"Because I disdained to acknowledge as my\nmasters such men as Aureolus and Gallienus. To Aurelian I submit as my\nconqueror and my sovereign.\" Aurelian was not displeased at the artful\ncompliment implied in this answer, but he had not forgotten the\ninsulting arrogance of her former reply. While this conference was going\nforward in the tent of the Roman emperor, the troops, who were enraged\nby her long and obstinate resistance, and all they had suffered during\nthe siege, assembled in tumultuous bands calling out for vengeance, and\nwith loud and fierce cries demanding her instant death. The unhappy\nqueen, surrounded by the ferocious and insolent soldiery, forgot all her\nformer vaunts and intrepidity; her feminine terrors had perhaps been\nexcusable if they had not rendered her base; but in her first panic she\nthrew herself on the mercy of the emperor, accused her ministers as the\ncause of her determined resistance, and confessed that Longinus had\nwritten in her name that eloquent letter of defiance which had so\nincensed the emperor.\n\nLonginus, with the rest of her immediate friends and counsellors, were\ninstantly sacrificed to the fury of the soldiers, and the philosopher\nmet death with all the fortitude which became a wise and great man,\nemploying his last moments in endeavoring to console Zenobia and\nreconcile her to her fate.\n\nPalmyra surrendered to the conqueror, who seized upon the treasures of\nthe city, but spared the buildings and the lives of the inhabitants.\nLeaving in the place a garrison of Romans, he returned to Europe,\ncarrying with him Zenobia and her family, who were destined to grace his\ntriumph.\n\nBut scarcely had Aurelian reached the Hellespont, when tidings were\nbrought to him that the inhabitants of Palmyra had again revolted, and\nhad put the Roman governor and garrison to the sword. Without a moment's\ndeliberation the emperor turned back, reached Palmyra by rapid marches,\nand took a terrible vengeance on that miserable and devoted city; he\ncommanded the indiscriminate massacre of all the inhabitants--men,\nwomen, and children; fired its magnificent edifices, and levelled its\nwalls to the ground. He afterward repented of his fury, and devoted a\npart of the captured treasures to reinstate some of the glories he had\ndestroyed; but it was too late; he could not reanimate the dead, nor\nraise from its ruins the stupendous Temple of the Sun. Palmyra became\ndesolate; its very existence was forgotten, until about a century ago,\nwhen some English travellers discovered it by accident. Thus the blind\nfury of one man extinguished life, happiness, industry, art, and\nintelligence through a vast extent of country, and severed a link which\nhad long connected the eastern and western continents of the old world.\n\nWhen Aurelian returned to Rome after the termination of this war, he\ncelebrated his triumph with extraordinary pomp. A vast number of\nelephants and tigers, and strange beasts from the conquered countries;\nsixteen hundred gladiators, an innumerable train of captives, and a\ngorgeous display of treasures--gold, silver, gems, plate, glittering\nraiment, and Oriental luxuries and rarities, the rich plunder of\nPalmyra, were exhibited to the populace. But every eye was fixed on the\nbeautiful and majestic figure of the Syrian queen, who walked in the\nprocession before her own sumptuous chariot, attired in her diadem and\nroyal robes, blazing with jewels, her eyes fixed on the ground, and her\ndelicate form drooping under the weight of her golden fetters, which\nwere so heavy that two slaves were obliged to assist in supporting them\non either side; while the Roman populace, at that time the most brutal\nand degraded in the whole world, gaped and stared upon her misery, and\nshouted in exultation over her fall. Perhaps Zenobia may in that moment\nhave thought upon Cleopatra, whose example she had once proposed to\nfollow; and, according to the pagan ideas of greatness and fortitude,\nenvied her destiny, and felt her own ignominy with all the bitterness of\na vain repentance.\n\nThe captivity of Zenobia took place in the year 273, and in the fifth\nyear of her reign. There are two accounts of her subsequent fate,\ndiffering widely from each other. One author asserts that she starved\nherself to death, refusing to survive her own disgrace and the ruin of\nher country; but others inform us that the Emperor Aurelian bestowed on\nher a superb villa at Tivoli, where she resided in great honor; and that\nshe was afterward united to a Roman senator, with whom she lived many\nyears, and died at a good old age. Her daughters married into Roman\nfamilies, and it is said that some of her descendants remained so late\nas the fifth century.\n\n\n\n\nSIEGFRIED[3]\n\n         [Footnote 3: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess.]\n\nBy KARL BLIND\n\n(ABOUT 450)\n\n[Illustration: Siegfried.]\n\n\nSiegfried is the name of the mythic national hero of the Germans, whose\ntragic fate is most powerfully described in the \"Nibelungen Lied,\" and\nin a series of lays of the Icelandic Edda. A matchless warrior, a\nDragon-killer and overthrower of Giants, who possesses a magic sword, he\nconquers the northern Nibelungs and acquires their famed gold hoard. In\nthe great German epic he is the son of Siegmund and Siegelinde, who rule\nin the Netherlands. Going Rhine-upward to Worms, to Gunther, the King of\nthe Burgundians, he woos and wins Kriemhild, the beautiful sister of\nthat king, after having first helped Gunther to gain the hand of\nBruenhild, a queen beyond sea, in Iceland. No one could obtain that\nvaliant virgin's consent to wedlock unless he proved a victor over her\nin athletic feats, and in trials of battle. By means of his own colossal\nstrength and his hiding hood, Siegfried, standing invisibly at the side\nof Gunther, overcomes Bruenhild. Even after the marriage has been\ncelebrated at Worms, Siegfried has once more to help the Burgundian king\nin the same hidden way, in order to vanquish Bruenhild's resistance to\nthe accomplishment of the marriage. When, in later times, Kriemhild and\nBruenhild fall out in a quarrel about their husbands' respective worth,\nthe secret of such stealthy aid having been given, is let out by the\nformer in a manner affecting the honor of the Burgundian queen as a\nwife. Thereupon Hagen promises her to effect a revenge. Having deftly\nascertained from Kriemhild the single vulnerable part of the hero, whose\nskin had otherwise been made impenetrable by being dipped into the\nDragon's blood, Hagen treacherously murders Siegfried at a chase. The\ngold hoard is then sunk in the Rhine by Hagen, lest Kriemhild should use\nit as a means of bribing men for wreaking her own revenge. She afterward\nbecomes the consort of Etzel, the heathen king of the Hiunes (Hunns) in\nHungary, who resides at Vienna. Thither she allures the Burgundians,\nHagen alone mistrusting the invitation. In Etzel's eastern land all the\nBurgundian knights, upon whom the Nibelung name had been conferred,\nsuffer a terrible death through Kriemhild's wrath. Hagen, who refuses to\nthe end to reveal to her the whereabouts of the sunken gold hoard, has\nhis head cut off with Siegfried's sword by the infuriated queen herself.\nAt last, she, too, is hewn down by the indignant, doughty warrior,\nHildebrand; and so the lofty Hall, into which fire had been thrown, is\nall strewn over with the dead. \"Here,\" says the poem, \"has the tale an\nend. These were the sorrows of the Nibelungs.\"\n\nIn this \"Iliad of the Germans,\" which dates from the end of the twelfth\ncentury, the Siegfried story is given as a finished epic. But its\noriginally heathen Teutonic character is overlaid there with admixtures\nof Christian chivalry. In the Edda and other Scandinavian sources, the\ntale appears in fragmentary and lyrical shape, but in a purer version,\nwithout additions from the new faith or from mediaeval chivalry. It is in\nthe Sigurd-, Fafnir-, Brynhild-, Gudrun-, Oddrun-, Atli-, and Hamdir\nLays of the Norse Scripture that the original nature of the older German\nsongs, which must have preceded the epic, can best be guessed. Rhapsodic\nlays, referring to Siegfried, were, in all probability, part of the\ncollection which Karl the Great, the Frankish Kaiser, ordered to be\nmade. Monkish fanaticism afterward destroyed the valuable relics.\nFortunately, Northmen travelling in Germany had gathered some of those\ntale-treasures, which then were treated by Scandinavian and Icelandic\nbards in the form of heroic lyrics. Hence the Eddic lays in question\nform now a link between our lost Siegfried \"Lieder\" and our national\nepic.\n\nEven as in the \"Nibelungen Lied\" so also in the \"Edda,\" Sigurd\n(abbreviation for Siegfried) is not a Scandinavian, but a Southern, a\nRhenish, a German hero. The whole scene of the tragic events is laid in\nthe Rhinelands, where the killing of the Worm also takes place. On a\nhill in Frank-land Sigurd frees Brynhild from the magic slumber into\nwhich Odin had thrown her on a rock of punishment, because she, as a\nValkyr, or shield-maiden of his, had brought about the death of a Gothic\nking to whom the god of battle had promised victory. In the south, on\nthe Rhine, Sigurd is murdered. In the Rhine, Hoegni (Hagen) hides the\nNibelung treasure. Many German tribes--Franks, Saxons, Burgundians,\nGoths, even a Svava-land, or Suabian land, are mentioned in the \"Edda.\"\nThe \"Drama of Revenge,\" after Sigurd's death, though motives of the act\nsomewhat different from those stated in the \"Nibelungen Lied\" are\nassigned, is also localized on the Lower Rhine, in the Hall of Atli, the\nKing of the Hunes. In the \"Nibelungen Lied,\" that name appears as Etzel\n(Attila), King of the Hunns.\n\nIn the \"Edda\" and in the \"Vilkina Saga,\" Germans are referred to as\nsources for some details of the Sigurd story. So strong was, in\nScandinavia, the tradition of the Teutonic origin of the tale, down to\nthe twelfth century, that, in a geographical work written in Norse by\nthe Abbot Nicolaus, the Gnita Heath, where Sigurd was said to have\nkilled the Dragon, was still placed half-way between Paderborn and\nMainz. Thus it was from Germany that this grand saga spread all over the\nNorth, including the Faroeer. In the \"Hvenic Chronicle,\" in Danish songs,\nwe even find Siegfried as \"Sigfred;\" Kriemhild as \"Gremild;\" and she is\nmarried to him at Worms, as in the \"Nibelungen Lied,\" while in the\n\"Edda\" Sigurd's wife is called Gudrun, and the remembrance of Worms is\nlost. The scene of the Norse poems is wholly on Rhenish ground.\n\n[Illustration: Siegfried slaying the Dragon.]\n\nNow, in that neighborhood, in the northwest of Germany, a Teutonic tribe\nonce dwelt, called Hunes, which is also traceable in Scandinavia. Sigurd\nhimself is, in the \"Edda,\" described as a Hunic king. His kith and\nkin dwell in Huna-land. \"Hune\" probably meant a bold and powerful\nwarrior. The word still lingers in Germany in various ways; gigantic\ngrave-monuments of prehistoric times are called Hunic Graves or\n\"Huenen-Betten,\" and a tall, strong man a \"Huene.\" In his \"Church History\"\nthe Anglo-Saxon monk Baeda, or Bede, when speaking of the various German\ntribes which had made Britain into an Angle-land, or England, mentions\nthe Hunes. In the Anglo-Saxon \"Wanderer's Tale\" they also turn up,\napparently in connection with a chieftain Aetla; that is, Atli. In\nFriesland, the Hunsing tribe long preserved the Hunic name. The word\noccurs in many personal and place names both in Germany and in England;\nfor instance: Hunolt (a Rhenish hero), Hunferd, Hunlaf, Hunbrecht\n(champions among Frisians and Rhinelanders in the \"Beowulf\" epic);\nHuneboldt (bold like a Hune); Ethelhun (noble Hune); then there are, in\nGerman geography, the Hunsrueck Mountain; Hunoldstein, Hunenborn,\nHunnesrueck, near Hildesheim, etc. Again, in England: Hundon, Hunworth,\nHunstanton, Huncote, Hunslet, Hunswick, and many other places from Kent\nand Suffolk up to Lancashire and Shetland, where certainly no Mongolic\nHunns ever penetrated. The Hunic Atli name is also to be found on\nEnglish soil, in Attlebridge and Attleborough.\n\nAfter the Great Migrations the various tribes and races became much\nintermixed. It was by a misunderstanding which arose then between the\nGerman Hunes and the Hunns under Attila's leadership, that Kriemhild's\nrevenge after the murder of Siegfried was poetically transferred from\nthe Rhine to the Danube. The name of the Rhenish Atli, which is\npreserved in the \"Edda,\" and which also occurs as a German chieftain's\nname on the soil of conquered Britain, easily served to facilitate the\nconfusion. Even the composition of Attila's army lent itself to this\ntransplantation of the second part of the Siegfried story to Danubian\nlands. For, though Attila was overthrown on the Catalaunian fields,\nmainly by Germanic hosts, to which Roman and Gallic troops were added,\nhe had a great many Teutonic warriors in his own army. From this\nmilitary intermingling of races so utterly dissimilar in blood and\nspeech as the Hunns and the Germans, one of whose tribes were called\nHunes, it is not difficult to conceive the shifting of the tragic issue\nof the Nibelung story to the East. Attila, the Hunn, slid into the\nprevious Teutonic hero-figure of Atli, the Hune. This change will the\nmore easily be understood when the deep impression is remembered which\nthe terrible Mongolic war-leader had made on the popular mind in\nsouthern Germany, where the Nibelungen epic was cast into its present\nshape.\n\nThe hold which the Siegfried story has had on the German people, through\nages, can be gathered from the fact of its having kept its place, down\nto our days, in the workman's house and the peasant's hut, first by oral\ntradition, and then by rudely printed and illustrated chap-books (\"Die\nGeschichte vom huernenen Siegfried\"). In this \"Volksbuch\" there are\nremarkable details concerning the hero's early life in a smithy and the\nprophecy of his assassination, which are lost in the \"Nibelungen Lied,\"\nbut preserved in the \"Edda.\" This circumstance--overlooked even by\nSimrock, who, like Jacob Grimm, has done much to show the German origin\nof the Norse Sigurd saga--is another curious bit of evidence of the\nundeniable Teutonic source of the corresponding Scandinavian and\nIcelandic stories and poems.\n\nMany attempts have been made to get at the historical kernel of the\ntale. Some would see in it traces of the songs which, according to\nTacitus, were sung, of old, in honor of Armin (usually, though\nmistakenly, called Hermann), the deliverer of Germany from the Roman\nyoke. It has been assumed that the contents of these songs were combined\nwith traditions of the deeds of Civilis, the leader of the Batavian\nGermans against Roman dominion, as well as of the conquest of Britain by\nHengest. Recently, the Norse scholar, Gudbrand Vigfusson, has once more\nstarted this \"Armin\" interpretation of the tale, under the impression\nthat he was the first to do so; whereas, in Germany, Mone and\nGiesebrecht had worked out that idea already some sixty years ago. In\norder to support his theory, Vigfusson boldly proposed to change the\nHunic name of Sigurd, in the Eddic text, into \"Cheruskian.\" He imagined\nthe former name to be absurd, because Siegfried was not a Hunn; but\nVigfusson was unacquainted with the wide historical distribution of the\nHunic name in Germany and England.\n\nOthers saw in the Siegfried story an echo of the overthrow of the\nBurgundian king Gundahari (Gunther), by Attila, on the Rhine. Gundahari,\nwho first threw himself with an army of 20,000 men against the Hunnic\nleader, gloriously fell with all his men. In the same way, in the\n\"Nibelungen Lied,\" the Burgundian king, Gunther, is killed, with all his\nmen, in the land of Etzel, the ruler of the Hiunes. Again, others have\npointed to the feats of Theodorick, the king of the Eastern Goths; or to\nthe fate of Siegbert, the king of the Austrasian Franks, who was\nmurdered at the instigation of Fredegunda; or to the powerful Frankish\nfamily of the Pipins, from whom Karl the Great hailed, by way of trying\nto explain some parts of the Siegfried story. With the Pipins of\n\"Nivella,\" we come upon a word in consonance with \"Nibelung.\"\n\nThen the wars which the Frankish Kaiser Karl waged against the Saxons of\nWitukind, have been held to be indicated in the war which the Frankish\nSiegfried, in the \"Nibelungen Lied,\" wages against the Saxons. To all\nappearance, however, the tale is a mixture of mythological and\nhistorical traditions. In the Middle Ages, and still much later,\nSiegfried was looked upon as an undoubtedly historical figure. His\npraise was sung through all Germany. His very tomb, one of his weapons,\nas well as his carved image, were shown under the name of Siegfried's\ngrave, Siegfried's spear, and Siegfried's statue. So persistent was this\nbelief that when, in the fifteenth century, Kaiser Frederick III. came\nto Worms, he had the alleged grave of \"that second Hector and powerful\ngiant\" opened, to see whether his bones could be found. Only a head and\na few bones were dug up, \"larger than men's heads and bones usually\nare.\" At Worms, the Siegfried story was pictured, in ancient times, in\nthe Town Hall and on the Mint. All round Worms, place-names connected\nwith the Nibelung tale occur with remarkable frequency. If the lost\nrhapsodic songs could be recovered, both mythological and historical\nallusions would, in all likelihood, be found in them.\n\nAn eminently Frankish tale, the Nibelungen cycle, has arisen in that\nmartial German tribe which once held sway in the greater part of Europe.\nIn its origin, the tale is considered by many careful investigators--so\nalso by Richard Wagner, who founded his famous music-drama on it--to\nhave been a Nature myth, upon which real events became engrafted. From\nthis point of view, the earliest meaning of Siegfried's victory over the\nDragon would signify the triumph of the God of Light over the monster of\nthe chaotic aboriginal Night. It would be, on German ground, the\noverthrow of Python by Apollon. In this connection it is to be pointed\nout that Sigurd appears in the \"Edda\" as the hero \"with the shining\neyes,\" and that, in one of the German Rose Garden tales, twelve swords\nare attributed to him--a description which might be referred to the\nzodiac and to sunshine; so that he would be a solar hero. And even as\nDay is, in its turn, vanquished by Night; as Summer must yield to\nWinter; so also Siegfried falls in the end. The god which he originally\nwas thus becomes human; the sad fate of so noble a champion gives rise\nto feelings of revenge for what is held to be an evil and criminal deed;\nand a tragedy is constructed, in which generations appear as actors and\nvictims.\n\nA special feature of the Frankish myth is the hoard, the fatal treasure\nwhich works never-ending mischief. It is said to represent the metal\nveins of the subterranean Region of Gloom. There, as is stated in an\nEddic record, Dark Elves (Nibelungs, or nebulous Sons of the Night) are\ndigging and working, melting and forging the ore in their smithies,\nproducing charmful rings that remind us of the diadems which bind the\nbrows of rulers; golden ornaments and sharp weapons; all of which confer\ngreat power upon their owner. When Siegfried slays the Dragon, when\nLight overcomes Darkness, this hoard is his booty, and he becomes master\nof the Nibelungs. But the Dragon's dark heir ever seeks to regain it\nfrom the victor; so Night malignantly murders the Day; Hagen kills\nSiegfried. The treasure on which Siegfried's power is founded becomes\nthe cause of his death; and through Death he himself, albeit originally\na refulgent God of Light, is turned into a figure of gloom; that is, a\nNibelung.\n\nThere is much in the Norse Skalds which seems to support this\nmythological aspect of the tale. The name of Siegfried's murderer,\nHagen--who is one-eyed, even as Hoedur, the God of Night, who kills\nBaldur, the God of Light, is blind--has also been adduced for this\ninterpretation. Hagen is explained as the Thorn of Death, the hawthorn\n(German Hagedorn), with which men are stung into eternal sleep, or\nrather into a death-like trance. Odin stings Brynhild into her trance\nwith a sleeping-thorn. Hagen, in the sense of death, still lingers in\nthe German expression, \"Friend Hain,\" as a euphemism for the figure\nwhich announces that one's hour has come. The hawthorn was the special\nwood used for fire-burial in Germany; hence the figurative poetical\nexpression which would make Hagen a synonym for death.\n\nIn the German and Norse poems, as we possess them now, myth and\napparently historical facts are inextricably welded together. A\npowerful representation of the Siegfried tale is given in the series of\nlarge pictures, at Munich, by the distinguished painter Schnorr von\nKarolsfeld.\n\n[Signature: Karl Blind.]\n\n\n\n\nKING ARTHUR\n\nBy Rev. S. BARING-GOULD\n\n(About 520)\n\n[Illustration: King Arthur.]\n\n\nArthur, king of the Siluri, or Dumnonii--British races driven back into\nthe west of England by the Saxons--is represented as having united the\nBritish tribes in resisting the pagan invaders, and as having been the\nchampion not only of his people but also of Christianity. He is said to\nhave lived in the sixth century, and to have maintained a stubborn\ncontest against the Saxon Cerdic, but the \"Saxon Chronicle\" is\nsuspiciously silent as to his warfare and as to his existence. Indeed,\nthe Welsh bards of the earliest period do not assert that he was a\ncontemporary, and it is more than doubtful whether he is an historic\npersonage. It is worthy of remark that the fame of Arthur is widely\nspread; he is claimed alike as a prince in Brittany, Cornwall, Wales,\nCumberland, and the lowlands of Scotland; that is to say, his fame is\nconterminous with the Brithonic race, and does not extend to the Goidels\nor Gaels. As is now well known, Great Britain was twice invaded by races\nof Celtic blood and tongue; the first wave was that of the Goidels, and\nafter a lapse of some considerable time a second Celtic wave, that of\nthe Brithons, or Britons, from the east, overran Britain, and drove the\nGaels to west and north. Finn and Ossian belong to the mythic heroic\ncycle of the Gaels, and Arthur and Merlin to that of the Britons. These\nseveral shadowy forms are probably deities shorn of their divinity and\ngiven historic attributes and position, much as, among the Norsemen,\nOdin, when he ceased to be regarded as the All-father, or God, came to\nbe reckoned as an ancestor of the kings.\n\nIn the lays of the Welsh bards, supposed to be as early as the sixth and\nseventh centuries (although no MS. is extant of older date than the\ntwelfth century), Arthur and his brave companions are celebrated, but\nmodestly and without marvels. It is possible that there may have existed\nin the sixth century a prince bearing the already well-known heroic\nname; and if so, about him the myths belonging to the remote ancestor or\ngod have crystallized. The legendary additions begin to gather in the\nhistory of the Britons by Nennius, a writer supposed to have lived at\nthe beginning of the seventh century; but Mr. Thomas Wright has shown\n(\"Biographia Literaria,\" Saxon period) that his history is a forgery of\na much later date, probably of the tenth century. Mr. Skene, however\n(\"The Four Ancient Books of Wales\"), makes fight to give Arthur an\nhistoric place, and we do not deny that there may have been a prince of\nthat name. Next in order come the so-called Armoric collections of\nWalter, Archdeacon of Oxford (latter part of eleventh century), from\nwhich Geoffrey of Monmouth professes to translate, and in which the\nmarvellous and supernatural elements largely prevail. Here for the first\ntime the magician Merlin comes into association with Arthur. According\nto Geoffrey, Arthur's father, Uther, conceiving a passion for Igerna,\nwife of Gorlois, Duke of Cornwall, is changed by Merlin into the\nlikeness of Gorlois, and Arthur is the result. After his father's death\nArthur becomes paramount leader of the British, and makes victorious\nexpeditions to Scotland, Ireland, Denmark, Norway, and also to France,\nwhere he defeats a great Roman army. During his absence his nephew,\nModred, revolts, and seduces Prince Arthur's wife, Gweniver\n(Gwenhwywar). Arthur returning, falls in a battle with his nephew, and\nis carried to the Isle of Avalon to be cured of his wounds. Geoffrey's\nwork apparently gave birth to a multitude of fictions, which came to be\nconsidered as quasi-historical traditions. From these, exaggerated by\neach succeeding age, and recast by each narrator, sprung the famous\nmetrical romances of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, first in\nFrench and afterward in English, from which modern notions of Arthur are\nderived. In these his habitual residence is at Caerlon, on the Usk, in\nWales, where, with his beautiful wife, Guinevere, he lives in splendid\nstate, surrounded by hundreds of knights and beautiful ladies, who serve\nas patterns of valor, breeding, and grace to all the world. Twelve\nknights, the bravest of the throng, form the centre of this retinue, and\nsit with the king at a round table, the \"Knights of the Round Table.\"\nFrom the court of King Arthur knights go forth to all countries in\nsearch of adventure--to protect women, chastise oppressors, liberate the\nenchanted, enchain giants and malicious dwarfs, is their knightly\nmission.\n\nThe earliest legends of Arthur's exploits are to be found in the bardic\nlays attributed to the sixth and seventh centuries (\"Myoyrian Archaeology\nof Wales,\" 1801). A Welsh collection of stories called the \"Mabinogion,\"\nof the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and translated into English\nby Lady Charlotte Guest in 1849, gives further Arthurian legends. Some\nof the stories \"have the character of chivalric romances,\" and are\ntherefore probably of French origin; while others \"bear the impress of a\nfar higher antiquity, both as regards the manners they depict and the\nstyle of language in which they are composed.\" These latter rarely\nmention Arthur, but the former belong, as Mr. Skene puts it, to the\n\"full-blown Arthurian romance.\" Chretien de Troies, the most famous of\nthe old French trouveres in the latter part of the twelfth century, made\nthe Arthur legend the subject for his \"Romans\" and \"Contes,\" as well as\nfor two epics on Tristan; the Holy Grail, Peredur, etc., belonging to\nthe same cycle. Early in the same century the Arthurian metrical romance\nbecame known in Germany, and there assumed a more animated and artistic\nform in the \"Parzival\" of Wolfram of Eschenbach, \"Tristan und Isolt\" of\nGottfried of Strasburg, \"Erec and Iwein\" of Hartmann, and \"Wigalois\" of\nWirnt. The most renowned of the heroes of the Arthurian school are\nPeredur (Parzival or Perceval), Tristan or Tristram, Iwein, Erec,\nGawein, Wigalois, Wigamur, Gauriel, and Lancelot. From France the\nArthurian romance spread also to Spain, Provence, Italy, and the\nNetherlands, even into Iceland, and was again transplanted into England.\nOne of the publications that issued from the press of Caxton (1485) was\na collection of stories by Sir Thomas Malory, either compiled by him in\nEnglish, from various of the later French prose romances, or translated\ndirectly from an already existing French compendium. Copland reprinted\nthe work in 1557, and in 1634 the last of the black-letter editions\nappeared. A reprint of Caxton's \"Kynge Arthur,\" with an introduction and\nnotes by Robert Southey, was issued in 1817--\"The Byrth, Lyfe, and Actes\nof Kyng Arthur.\" The most complete edition is that by Thomas Wright,\nfrom the text of 1634.\n\nThe name of King Arthur was given during the Middle Ages to many places\nand monuments supposed to have been in some way associated with his\nexploits, such as \"Arthur's Seat,\" near Edinburgh, \"Arthur's Oven,\" on\nthe Carron, near Falkirk, etc. What was called the sepulchre of his\nqueen was shown at Meigle, in Strathmore, in the sixteenth century. Near\nBoscastle, in Cornwall, is Pentargain, a headland called after him\n\"Arthur's Head.\" Other localities take his name in Brittany. In the\nMiddle Ages, in Germany, Arthur's Courts were buildings in which the\npatricians assembled. One such still remains at Danzig. There was one\nanciently at Thorn, about which a ballad and legend exist. Milton was\nmeditating an Arthurian epic in 1639; and in our own day the interest of\nthe legends about King Arthur and his knights has been revived by\nTennyson's \"Idylls of the King\" and some of Wagner's operas. We must not\nomit to note the magnificent life-sized ideal bronze figure of Arthur,\ncast for the monument of Maximilian I., now in the Franciscan church at\nInnsbruck, and regarded as the finest among the series of heroes there\nrepresented.\n\n[Illustration: The Ruins of King Arthur's Castle.]\n\n\n\n\nROLAND\n\n(740-778)\n\n  \"O, for a blast of that dread horn,\n  On Fontarabian echoes borne\n      That to King Charles did come,\n  When Rowland brave, and Olivier,\n  And every paladin and peer\n      On Roncesvalles died!\"--_Marmion._\n\n  \"When Charlemain with all his peerage fell,\n      By Fontarabbia.\"--_Paradise Lost._\n\n[Illustration: Roland.]\n\n\n\"A Roland for an Oliver!\" Saving the passing reference by Scott and\nMilton, quoted above, Roland and Olivier are almost unknown to English\nreaders, and yet their once familiar names, knit together for centuries,\nhave passed into a proverb, to be remembered as we remember the\nfriendship of David and Jonathan, or to be classed by the scholar with\nPylades, and Orestes of classic story, or with Amys and Amylion of\nromance.\n\nThe \"Song of Roland\" might be called the national epic of France. It\ncorresponds to the \"Mort d'Arthur\" of England, the \"Cid Chronicles\" of\nSpain, the \"Nibelungen Lied\" of Germany, and the Longobardian legends of\nNorth Italy. Italian mediaeval literature is rich in the Roland romances,\nfounded on the fabulous \"Chronicle of John Turpin\" and the \"Chansons de\nGestes,\" of which the \"Song of Roland\" is one. Of the Italian romances\nthe \"Morgante Maggiore\" of Pulci was published as early as 1488,\nBoyardo's \"Orlando Innamorata\" in 1496, and Ariosto's \"Orlando Furioso\"\nin 1515. English versions of Boyardo and Ariosto have since been\ntranslated into the rhyming couplets of Hoole, and as late as 1831 into\nthe _ottava rima_ stanzas of W. S. Rose. It was not, however, till\nApril, 1880, that a full English translation of the original \"Song of\nRoland,\" from MSS. written in the old _langue d'oil_ of Northern France,\nwas published by Kegan, Paul & Co., from the pen of Mr. O'Hagan, Q.C.,\nof Dublin. Most probably it was a curtailed version of this romance that\nis referred to by Wace in his \"Roman le Rou,\" when he records how, as\nthe Normans marched to Senlac Hill, in 1066, the minstrel Taillefer\nsang,\n\n  \"Of Roland and the heroes all\n   Who fell at fatal Roncesvall.\"\n\nTurning to the historical data on which the romance is based, it will be\nfound that in the year 778 A.D. Charlemagne, accompanied by his nephew,\nCount Roland of Bretagne, and the flower of Frankish chivalry, made a\nraid across the Spanish border. Abdalrahman, the first of the great\nSpanish caliphs of Cordova, was engaged in putting down the rebellious\nchiefs who had refused to own their allegiance to the new caliphate. The\nfrontier was therefore comparatively unprotected. The Spanish\nChristians, who maintained a precarious independence among the Asturias\nand Pyrenees, and who found it the wisest policy to be at peace with the\nMohammedan rulers, were not strong enough to resist Charlemagne.\nAccordingly the Franks advanced nearly to Saragossa. On returning to\nFrance laden with spoil through the winding defile of Roncesvalles (the\nvalley of thorns or briers), their rear-guard was cut off by a band of\nBasques or Gascons and Spanish-Arabians, and their leader, Roland,\nslain. To the presence of these Spanish Christians in the Moorish army\nmust be attributed the origin of the many Spanish ballads on the\nvictory, in which all the glory is due to the prowess of the national\nhero, Bernardo Del Carpio, \"the doughtiest lance in Spain.\" It is\ncurious also to note, on the other hand, that the Arabians themselves in\ntheir chronicles, translated by the Spanish historian Conde, make little\nof this victory, merely mentioning the fact. The Saracen King Marsil, or\nMarsilius, of Saragossa, so often referred to in this and other\nCarlovingian romances, is identified by Conde with the Mohammedan Wali,\nor Governor of Saragossa, Abdelmelic, the son of Omar, called by the\nChristians Omarus Filius, hence the corruption Marsilius.\n\nWith these brief outlines of the history of Roncesvalles before us it is\ninteresting to observe the grandiloquent strain of the old Norman\n_rymours_, the fearless exaggerations, and the total ignorance of the\nactual state of affairs in Spain under the enlightened and accomplished\nArabians.\n\n  _\"Carles li reis nostre emperere magnes,\n    Set anz tut pleins ad estet en Espaigne.\"_\n\nOur great emperor Charles the King had been for seven full years in\nSpain, so runs the chronicle; castle and keeper alike had gone down\nexcept Saragossa, the mountain town, where King Marsil held his court,\nsurrounded by 20,000 Mohammedan nobles. At their council it was agreed\nto accept Spain as a fief from the emperor, and ten knights set out with\ngolden bridles and silver saddles,\n\n  \"And they ride with olive boughs in hand,\n   To seek the lord of the Frankish land.\"\n\nNear the pass of Roncesvalles, one of the Pyrenean \"gates\" of Spain,\nsits the emperor upon a throne of beaten gold. His form is tall and\nmajestic, and his long white beard flows over his coat of mail. 'Tis\nwhispered, too, that he is already two hundred years old, and yet, there\nhe is in all his pride. Beside him stand his nephew Roland, the Lord\nMarquis of the marches of Bretagne; Sir Olivier; Geoffrey of Anjou, the\nprogenitor of the Plantagenets; \"and more than a thousand Franks of\nFrance.\" The Moslem knights are introduced to this council of war, King\nMarsil's offer is accepted, and Sir Ganelon is sent to Saragossa to\nrepresent the emperor. Jealous of Roland's military glory, and envious\nof the stores of pagan gold, the false Ganelon conspires with King\nMarsil to put the all-powerful Roland to death. King Marsil is assured\nthat on receipt of the golden tribute, Charlemagne will be persuaded to\nleave Spain, while by the traitor's advice Roland will be appointed to\nremain behind and guard the rear of the retiring hosts. The scheme\nsucceeded. Ganelon returned to the Frankish camp with the tribute-money\nfor the emperor, and the traitor's gold for himself. The Franks begin\ntheir homeward march. They are now descending the mountains into their\nown fertile Gascon plains, and their hearts beat lightly, for\n\n  \"They think of their homes and their manors there,\n   Their gentle spouses and damsels fair.\"\n\nBut their great chief is silent and gloomy. Roland, the bravest of the\nbrave, has been left behind with all the paladins, save Ganelon, beyond\nthe gates of Spain. Last night the emperor dreamed he seemed to stand by\nCizra's pass in Roncesvalles, when Ganelon appeared before him, wrenched\nthe emperor's spear from out his hand, waved it on high, then dashed it\nin pieces. What did it mean? He remembered the ominous words of his\npeers, \"Evil will come of this quest, we fear,\" and Ganelon's strange\nreply, \"Ye shall hear.\"\n\nMeanwhile Sir Roland was far behind in Roncesvalles. He rode his gallant\nsteed Veillantif; his white pennon, fringed with gold and set with\ndiamonds, sparkled in the sunshine; and by his side he wore his famous\nsword Durindana, with its hilt of gold shaped like a cross, on which was\ngraven the name of \"Jesus.\" What a glorious picture of the Christian\nhero of mediaeval times! With him were Olivier, the good Archbishop\nTurpin, and the remaining knights who made up the Order of the Paladins\nof Charlemagne, together with an army of 20,000 men.\n\nThe drums beat to arms in Saragossa's town, the tambours roll, the\ntabors sound, and 400,000 men attend the call of King Marsil. From a\nneighboring height Sir Olivier observes this countless host approaching.\nHe calls to Roland to blow his ivory horn and bring back the emperor.\nRoland refuses, and the Franks prepare to fight; not, however, before on\nbended knee they receive the archbishop's benediction and a promise of\nparadise to all who die in this holy war against the pagan foe. With the\nold French battle-cry, \"Mont-joie! Mont-joie!\" the Christians dash the\nrowels into their steeds and close with the enemy. Homer does not relate\na bloodier fight than that which follows, and which takes eighty-six\nstanzas, or fifty of Mr. O'Hagan's pages, to describe. Again and again\nthe Christians charge the Saracens. What deeds the great sword Durindana\ndid that day! The slain lie in thousands; the Saracens flee; and in the\npursuit all are killed save _one_, who reaches Saragossa. The triumph,\nhowever, is short-lived; Ganelon had decreed that Roland must die, and\nso a mightier army than before marches forth to exterminate Roland's\nhandful, now reduced to 300.\n\nDuring this battle a terrible storm passes over France,--thunder and\nwhirlwinds, rain and hail, there came.\n\nThe people thought that the end of the world had come, but this was only\na foreshadowing of Roland's death. At last all the nobles are killed\nexcept Roland, Olivier, the archbishop, and sixty men. Then only will\nRoland deign to blow his horn. Charlemagne hears it thirty leagues away,\nand orders his army to return to Roncesvalles. Ganelon alone seeks to\ndissuade him, and is put in chains by the desire of the nobles, who\nsuspect him. The army of Charles hurries back, but all too late. They\nwill not arrive in time. Away in the Pass of Cizra, Roland looks around\non his dead comrades and weeps. He returns to Olivier's side, who is\nengaged in a hand-to-hand encounter with King Marsil's uncle, the Moslem\nprince, Algalif, from whom he receives his death-wound. Olivier reels in\nhis saddle, his eyes are dimmed with blood, and as he strikes madly\nabout with his spear, he smashes Roland's helmet. The friend of Olivier\nis astonished, but soft and low he speaks to him thus:\n\n  \"'Hast thou done it, my comrade, wittingly?\n    Roland who loves thee so dear am I.\n    Thou hast no quarrel with me to seek?'\n    Olivier answered, 'I hear thee speak,\n    But I see thee not; God seeth thee.\n    Have I struck thee, brother, forgive it me?'\n   'I am not hurt, O Olivier;\n    And in sight of God, I forgive thee here.'\n    Then to each other his head hath laid,\n    And in love like this was their parting made.\"\n\nWith hands clasped Sir Olivier cries to God for admittance into\nParadise, and for a blessing on \"King Karl and France the fair,\" and\nabove all on his brother Roland. Then his hands fall, his head sinks on\nhis breast, and he passes away. Filled with grief, Roland murmurs:\n\n  \"So many days and years gone by\n   We lived together.\n   And thou hast never done me wrong.\n   Since thou art dead, to live is pain.\"\n\nOnce more Roland turns to where Count Walter of Hum and the archbishop\nalone stand at bay:\n\n  \"And the heathen cries, 'What a felon three!\n   Look to it, lords, that they shall not flee.'\"\n\n[Illustration: Roland at Roncesvalles.]\n\nCount Walter falls at last, just as they hear the welcome sound of\nCharlemagne's trumpets, at which the Saracens flee, leaving Roland and\nthe archbishop unconquered. But their end is near. Roland swoons, and\nthe good archbishop, in attempting to bring water in the famous horn\nfor the dying Paladin, falls from loss of blood. Roland recovers only in\ntime to see him die; then, as he feels that death is near him also, he\nlooks once more on his goodly sword Durindana, and as he looks he cries:\n\n  \"Oh fair and holy, my peerless sword,\n   What relics lie in thy pommel stored--\n   Tooth of St. Peter, Saint Basil's blood,\n   Hair of St. Denis beside them strewed,\n   Fragment of Holy Mary's vest--\n  'Twere shame that thou with the heathen rest,\n   Thee should the hand of a Christian serve,\n   One who should never in battle swerve.\"\n\nIn despair lest it fall into pagan hands he tries to break it in pieces,\nand the mighty slashes he made in the rocks are still pointed out as the\n\"Breche de Roland.\" You remember Wordsworth's lines:\n\n                    \"the Pyrenean breach,\n  Which Roland clove with huge two-handed sway,\n  And to the enormous labor left his name,\n  Where unremitting frost the rocky crescents bleach.\"\n\nSurely Roland might now rest from his labors, amid the \"flowerets of\nParadise.\" But no; he had yet to smash the head of a prowling Saracen\nwho thought him an easy prey. In doing so he spoiled forever the ivory\nhorn, his only weapon. Not till then could he clasp his hands as he went\nto rest, and not till then did\n\n  \"God from on high send down to him\n   One of His angel cherubim.\"\n\nSt. Michael it was, who with St. Gabriel bore his soul to Paradise.\n\nIt would be too long a story to tell of the vengeance of the Emperor\nCharles, how _the sun stood still_ till the Franks had killed every one\nof the Saracens; how Ganelon was accused of treachery, tried by combat,\nand sentenced to be torn to pieces by wild horses. The story is a true\ntragedy, terrible as the tragedy of Oedipus. From another source we\ngather the mournful sequel.\n\nLong before the battle of Roncesvalles Roland and Olivier had met in\nsingle combat on a quiet island in the Rhone. Toward even a fleecy cloud\nhovered over them, and from its midst an angel \"wrapped in rosy light\"\nseparated the combatants, bidding them be friends, and telling them to\nturn their swords against the enemies of the Faith. The heroes shook\nhands, the angel vanished, and from that day there were no truer friends\nthan Roland and Olivier. Their union was further cemented by the\nbetrothal of Roland to the Lady Alda, Sir Olivier's sister, a maiden who\nhad already, in Roland's presence, proved herself as bold in war as she\nwas loving in peace.\n\n\n\n\nROLLO THE GANGER[4]\n\n         [Footnote 4: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess.]\n\nBy HJALMAR HJORTH BOYESEN\n\n(860-932)\n\n[Illustration: Rollo the Ganger.]\n\n\nWhen King Harold the Fair-haired, in 872 A.D., had united all the\nscattered earldoms of Norway under his own sway, he issued a stringent\norder forbidding pillaging within his kingdom under penalty of outlawry.\nThe custom of sailing out into the world as a viking and plundering\nforeign lands, was held to be a most honorable one in those days; and\nevery chieftain who wished to give his sons the advantages of \"a liberal\neducation\" and foreign travel, strained his resources in order to equip\nthem for such an expedition. But the Norwegians of the ninth century had\nas yet no national feeling; and they regarded King Harold's prohibition\nagainst plundering their own shores as absurd and arbitrary. Rollo or\nRolf, the son of the king's best friend, Ragnvald, Earl of Moere,\nundertook to disregard the order. Coming home from a cruise in the\nBaltic and being short of provisions, he landed in the south of Norway\nand made havoc among the coast dwellers. The king, determined to make an\nend of the nefarious practice, kept his word and outlawed him.\n\nRollo, being unequal to a struggle with the king, betook himself to the\nHebrides, where a number of other Norse chieftains had sought a refuge\nfrom similar persecutions. His great strength and sagacity, no less than\nhis distinguished birth, secured him a favorable reception and much\ninfluence. He was so tall that no Norwegian horse could carry him, for\nwhich reason he was compelled always to walk, and was surnamed Rollo the\nGanger, or Walker. Though not formally recognized as chieftain, he seems\ngradually, by dint of his eminence, to have assumed command over the\nNorse exiles; and it was probably at his advice that they resolved to\nabandon the bleak and barren Hebrides, and seek a more congenial home in\na sunnier clime. At all events a large expedition was fitted out and set\nsail for the south, early in the tenth century. It landed first in\nHolland, but finding that all-too-accessible country already devastated\nby other vikings, they proceeded to the coast of France and entered the\nmouth of the river Seine. Charles the Simple, a feeble, foolish, and\ngood-natured man, was then king of France, but utterly unequal to the\ntask of defending his territory against foreign invaders or domestic\npretenders. The empire of Charlemagne had been broken up and divided\namong his grandsons; and the fraction which was to be France, was then\nconfined between the Loire and the Meuse.\n\nHere was a golden opportunity for Rollo the Ganger and his vikings.\nMeeting with no formidable opposition, they sailed up the Seine and cast\nanchor at the town of Jumieges, five leagues from Rouen. This ancient\ncity, which had suffered much from recent sieges and invasions, was in\nno condition to defend itself. It was of slight avail that the priests\nchanted in the churches, with the fervor of despair: \"Deliver us, oh\nGod, from the fury of Norsemen!\" The vikings continued to pillage the\nsurrounding territory, and were daily expected to sack the city. In this\ndire dilemma the Archbishop of Rouen offered himself as an ambassador to\nthe pagans, in the hope that perhaps he might become an instrument in\nthe hand of God to avert the impending doom. But if, as seemed more\nprobable, martyrdom was in store for him, he was ready to face death\nwithout flinching. Rollo, however, who could honor courage even in an\nenemy, received him courteously, and after a brief negotiation pledged\nhimself, in case the city surrendered, to take peaceful possession of it\nand to molest no one. This pledge he kept to the letter. His ships\nsailed up the river, and the tall chieftain, at the head of his band of\nyellow-haired warriors, made his entry into Rouen, without a sword being\ndrawn or a torch lighted. He inspected the fortifications, the water\nsupply, and all points of strategic interest, and finding everything\ntolerably satisfactory, resolved to remain. Making Rouen his\nheadquarters and base of supplies, the Norsemen made expeditions up the\nSeine and established a great fortified camp near the confluence of the\nSeine and the Eure. Hither a French army, under the command of Regnault,\nDuke of France, was sent to drive them out of the country. But before\nrisking a battle Regnault chose to negotiate. He sent a certain Hasting,\nCount of Chartres, to Rollo in order to find out what was the aim and\nobject of his invasion. This Hasting was himself a Norseman, and had,\ntwenty years before, proved himself so formidable a foe, that the King\nof France had been compelled to buy his friendship by a concession of\nland and a noble title, in return for which favors Hasting had become a\nChristian and a vassal to the king. It was doubtful, perhaps, if this\nman, even though he may have acted in good faith, was the best\nambassador to his countrymen. For he was himself a living example of\nwhat might be gained by audacity and a shrewd use of one's advantages.\n\nThe following conversation is reported to have taken place between the\nCount of Chartres and the Norwegian vikings:\n\n\"Gallant soldiers!\" shouted Hasting, from afar, \"what is your\nchieftain's name?\"\n\n\"We have no lord over us,\" they replied; \"we are all equal.\"\n\n\"For what purpose have you come to France?\"\n\n\"To drive out the people who are here, or make them our subjects, and\nwin for ourselves a new country. But who are you? How is it that you\nspeak our tongue?\"\n\n\"You know the story of Hasting,\" the count made answer; \"Hasting, the\ngreat viking, who scoured the seas with his multitude of ships, and did\nso much damage in this kingdom?\"\n\n\"Ay, we have heard of that; but Hasting has made a bad end to so good a\nbeginning.\"\n\n\"Will you submit to King Charles?\" was the ambassador's next query.\n\"Will you give your faith and service, and receive from him gifts and\nhonor?\"\n\n\"No, no,\" they cried back; \"we will not submit to King Charles. Go back\nand tell him so, you messenger, and say that we claim the rule and\ndominion of whatever we win by our own strength and our swords.\"\n\nHasting lost no time in communicating this message to the French and in\nurging a compromise. But Regnault called him a traitor, and would have\nnone of his advice. He promptly attacked Rollo and his Norsemen, but\nsuffered an overwhelming defeat. His army was cut to pieces, and he\nhimself slain by a fisherman of Rouen who had attached himself to the\ninvading force. Rollo followed up his victory by sailing up the river\nand laying siege to Paris; but the capital of France proved too strong\nfor him and he had to retire to Rouen, whence he continued to havoc the\nsurrounding country. He conquered the city of Bayeux and slew its ruler,\nCount Berenger, whose beautiful daughter, Popa, he married. Instead of\norganizing mere plundering expeditions, Rollo gradually changed his\ntactics and took permanent possession of the towns that fell into his\nhands. The peasants, too, who lived in the open country, found that it\nwas their best policy to seek his friendship and pay him tribute, rather\nthan rely upon the uncertain protection of the King of France. They had\ndiscovered before this that Rollo was a man whose word could be\ntrusted--a lord of mighty will, who had a ruthless way of enforcing\nobedience, but was open-handed and generous withal to those who would\nserve his purposes.\n\nIt could no longer be said with truth, as the vikings had said to\nHasting, that they had no lord over them. Rollo, whose chieftainship had\nhitherto been based upon his genius for ruling, was now formally chosen\nking--a title which he later exchanged for that of Duke of Normandy. In\nNorway, previous to the conquests of Harold the Fair-haired, each\nprovince had had its king, who was not always hereditary, but was often\nchosen by the peasants themselves, because he possessed the qualities\nrequired of a leader. It was in accordance with the same custom that\nthey now conferred kingship upon Rollo, whose valor, sagacity, and\nfirmness of purpose had been amply proven. It was the power of the\nman--the weight and force of his personality--which they respected, no\nless than his clear-sightedness, his readiness of resource, and his\nskill in the rude statecraft of his age.\n\n[Illustration: Rollo the Ganger attacks Paris.]\n\nEncouraged by his previous successes, Rollo now made larger plans, and\nwith the view to carrying them out, formed an alliance with some Danish\nvikings who had managed to effect a lodgement and maintain themselves\nfor some years at the mouth of the Loire. Together they started upon an\nextensive campaign, the objective point of which was again Paris. But\nthe powerful fortifications baffled the Norsemen, who possessed no\nmachinery of destruction fit to cope with such defences. The siege had\ntherefore to be abandoned. Dijon and Chartres also made a successful\nresistance. But a long chain of smaller cities surrendered, and the\ncountry was ravaged far and wide. The peasants took to the woods and\nrefused to sow their fields, knowing that there was small chance of\ntheir reaping them. So desperate became the situation that nobles and\npeasants alike entreated the king to make peace with the Norsemen on\nwhatever terms he could procure. The king was not unwilling to listen to\nsuch prayers. It occurred to him that in making a treaty with Rollo he\nwould be killing two birds with one stone. He would not only be ridding\nFrance of a dangerous foe, but he might secure for himself a powerful\nfriend who might help him keep the unruly nobles in order, and secure\nhim in the possession of his shorn and reduced kingdom. With this end in\nview he invested Rollo with the sovereignty of his northern province,\nnamed after the Norsemen, Normandy, and conferred upon him the title of\nduke (912 A.D.). Rollo was to recognize Charles as his overlord, and\ndefend him against external and internal foes; and he was to become a\nChristian and marry the king's daughter, Gisla. It is told, however,\nthat when Rollo was required to kneel down and kiss the royal foot in\ntoken of fealty, he stoutly refused.\n\n\"I will never bend my knee before any man,\" he said, \"nor will I kiss\nanyone's foot.\"\n\nAfter much persuasion however, he permitted one of his men to perform\nthe act of homage in his stead. His proxy stalked sullenly forward, and\npausing before the king, who was on horseback, seized his foot and\nraised it to his lips. By this manoeuvre, the king came to make a\nsomersault, at which there followed a great and disrespectful burst of\nlaughter from the Norsemen.\n\nShortly after the conclusion of this treaty Rollo was baptized, and his\nmarriage to the Princess Gisla was celebrated with great pomp in the\ncity of Rouen. His previous marriage to Popa does not seem to have\ncaused him any scruple, though, as a matter of fact, he continued to\nregard the latter as his wife, and when Gisla died he resumed his\nmarital relations with her, if indeed they had ever been interrupted.\nThe princess had been to him nothing but a hostage from the king and a\npledge of his good faith. But Popa, who was the mother of his son\nWilliam, surnamed Longsword, he loved, and we do not hear that the fact\nthat he had killed her father caused any serious trouble between them.\n\nAs Duke of Normandy, Rollo exhibited a political insight and a genius\nfor administration which in those turbulent days was certainly\nremarkable. He had the true welfare of his people at heart, and with a\nfirm hand he maintained justice, protecting the weak, and restraining\nthe strong. The laws which he made he enforced with stern impartiality,\nand no man could plead birth or privilege before him, if he wantonly\noffended. The farmers were Rollo's special care; for warrior though he\nwas, he well knew that war is destructive, and that the prosperity of a\nland must be founded upon productive labor. The peasantry of Normandy\nwere not slow to discover that they were better off under their new\nruler than they ever had been under the old; and they rewarded Rollo\nwith a sincere loyalty and devotion. Their confidence in his power to\nright wrong, became in the course of time half superstitious; and if any\nof them was in peril or suffered at the hands of his enemy, it became\nthe fashion to shout: \"Ha, Rou!\"--Rou being a corruption of Raoul, the\nFrench form of Rolf or Rollo. Then it was the duty of everyone who heard\nthis cry, to hasten to the aid of the sufferer or to pursue his\nassailant. It has been asserted that our \"hurrah\" is derived from this\nNorman shout, but I hold this to be more than doubtful.\n\nThat Normandy was prosperous under the reign of Rollo, and that its\npeople were contented, seems, however, to be well established. According\nto the legend, so great was the public security that property left on\nthe highway could be found untouched after days and weeks; the farmer\nleft his implements in the field without fear of losing them; and theft\nand robbery became comparatively rare. In a great measure this was, no\ndoubt, due to the strict organization which Rollo introduced, and his\ninsistence upon the personal accountability of each one of his subjects\nto himself. For he had learned one most important lesson from his enemy,\nHarold the Fair-haired. This king was the first to establish in Europe\nwhat is called the feudal system of land-tenure. He declared all land to\nbe the property of the crown, and merely held in fief by the nominal\nowners. In recognition of the king's proprietorship, the latter,\ntherefore, pledged themselves to pay a certain tribute, and to support\nthe king in case of war, with a given number of armed men, in accordance\nwith the size and value of their holdings. This same system Rollo is\nsaid to have introduced into Normandy, whence it spread over all Europe.\nThough we have now no more use for it, it proved a great and important\nelement in the progress of civilization.\n\nRollo the Ganger must have been nearly eighty years old when he died in\n927. His son, William Longsword, who succeeded him as Duke of Normandy,\nwas a man of gentler disposition and in vigor and sagacity inferior to\nhis father. Rollo's descendant in the fifth generation was William the\nConqueror, who inherited in a larger measure the qualities of his great\nancestor.\n\n[Signature: Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen.]\n\n\n\n\nLEIF ERICSON[5]\n\n         [Footnote 5: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess.]\n\nBy HJALMAR HJORTH BOYESEN\n\n(About 1000)\n\n[Illustration: Leif Ericson.]\n\n\nThe story of the Finding of Wineland the Good is contained, in somewhat\ndiffering versions, in two parchment books, the one belonging to the\nfirst, and the other to the last, quarter of the fourteenth century.\nBoth agree in attributing the discovery to Leif the Lucky, the son of\nEric the Red; though the Flatey Book says that he was induced to\nundertake this voyage by a certain Bjarne Herjulfson, who, having been\ndriven out of his course by storms, had seen strange lands, but had not\nexplored them.\n\nLeif's father, Eric the Red, was, like most Norsemen of his day, an\nunruly and turbulent man, whose sword sat loosely in its sheath. He was\nborn about the middle of the tenth century at Jaederen, in Norway, but\nwas outlawed on account of a manslaughter, and set sail for Iceland,\nwhere he married a certain Thorhild, the daughter of Jorund and\nThorbjorg the Ship-chested. But the same high temper and quarrelsome\nspirit which had compelled him to leave Norway got him into trouble also\nin his new home. He was forced by blood-feuds and legal acts of\nbanishment to change his abode repeatedly, and finally he was declared\nan outlaw. Knowing that his life was forfeited, Eric, as a last\ndesperate chance, equipped a ship, and sailed \"in search of that land\nwhich Gunbjoern, the son of Ulf the Crow, had seen when he was driven\nwestward across the main;\" and promised, in case he found it, to return\nand apprise his friends of the discovery. Fortune favored him, and he\nfound a great, inhospitable continent, which (in order to allure\ncolonists) he called Greenland; \"for,\" he said, \"men would be more\neasily persuaded thither, if the country had a good name.\" He landed in\nthree or four places, but, being dissatisfied, broke up and started in\nsearch of more favorable localities. At the end of three years he\nreturned to Iceland fought his foes and was defeated, but finally\nsucceeded, by the backing of friends, in effecting a reconciliation with\nthem. He spent the winter in Iceland, and sailed the following spring\nfor Greenland, where he settled at a place called Brattahlid (Steep Lea)\nin Ericsfirth. Thirty-five ship-loads of people followed him, but only\nfourteen arrived safely. The remainder were shipwrecked, or driven back\nto Iceland.\n\nThe interest now shifts from Eric to his son, Leif the Lucky, who\nbecomes the hero of the Saga. Sixteen years after his father's\nsettlement in Greenland, Leif, as behooved the son of a chieftain,\nequipped a ship and set out to see the world, and gather fortune and\nexperience. He must then have been between twenty and twenty-five years\nold. He arrived in Drontheim, Norway, in the autumn, and met there King\nOlaf Tryggveson. The king, who had been baptized in England, was full of\nzeal for the Christian faith, and was employing every means in his power\nto christianize the country. But the peasantry, who were worshippers of\nOdin and Thor, refused to listen to him, and even compelled him to eat\nhorse-flesh and participate in pagan rites. Under these circumstances it\nis not to be wondered at that he took kindly to the handsome young\nIcelander who displayed such an interest in the new religion, and\nlistened attentively while the king expounded the faith to him. For Leif\nwas a courteous and intelligent man, of fine presence, good address, and\nindomitable spirit. The king, says the Saga, \"thought him a man of great\naccomplishments.\" It was not long before he concluded to accept\nChristianity, whereupon he was baptized, with all his shipmates. King\nOlaf then charged him to return to Iceland and induce the people to\nabandon idolatry and accept the true faith. Leif, knowing how deeply\nattached the Icelanders were to their old gods, was very reluctant to\nundertake this mission, but finally yielded to the king's persuasions,\n\"provided the king would grant him the grace of his protection.\"\n\nHe accordingly put to sea; but encountered heavy weather and was driven\nout of his course. For a long while he was tossed about by the tempest,\nuntil he came upon \"lands of which he had previously no knowledge. There\nwere self-sown wheat-fields and vines growing there. There were also\nthose trees which are called _masur_ (maples?). And of all these things\nthey took samples.\"\n\nThe other version to which I have alluded is much more explicit, and\nrecounts how Leif went to Greenland to visit his father, Eric the Red,\nand how there he heard the account of Bjarne Herjulfson's voyage, and of\nthe unknown lands to the westward which he professed to have seen. The\npeople, we read, blamed Bjarne for his lack of enterprise in failing to\nexplore the territories of which he had caught glimpses, \"so as to be\nable to bring some report of them.\" Leif, being of an adventurous\nspirit, was fired by this talk, and resolved to accomplish what the\nincurious Bjarne had left undone. He gathered together a crew of\nthirty-five men, and invited his father to command the expedition. Eric\nat first declined, saying that he was well stricken in years, and unable\nto endure the exposure of such a voyage. Leif insisted, however, that\n\"he would be most apt to bring good luck,\" and the old man, yielding to\nhis son's solicitation, mounted his horse and rode forth at the head of\nthe ship-crew. But when he was nearing the beach, the horse stumbled and\nEric was thrown and wounded his foot. This was held to be a bad omen,\nand as he was trying to rise, he exclaimed:\n\n\"It is not destined that I shall discover any more lands than the one in\nwhich we are now living; nor can we now continue longer together.\"\n\nLeif, knowing persuasion to be vain, pursued his way alone, and embarked\nwith his thirty-five shipmates.\n\n\"When they were ready, they sailed out to sea and found first that land\nwhich Bjarne and his shipmates found last.\"\n\nIt is not stated how long they had been at sea when this land was found.\nThe account goes on as follows:\n\n\"They sailed up to the land and cast anchor, and launched a boat and\nwent ashore, and saw no grass there. Great ice mountains lay inland,\nback from the sea, and it was as a [table land of] flat rocks all the\nway from the sea to the ice mountains; and the country seemed to them to\nbe entirely devoid of good qualities. Then said Leif: 'It has not come\nto pass with us in regard to this land as with Bjarne, that we have not\ngone upon it. To this country I will now give a name and call it\nHelluland' (_i.e._, The Land of Flat Rocks).\n\n\"They returned to the ship and put out to sea, and found a second land.\nThey sailed again to the land, came to anchor, launched a boat, and went\nashore. This was a level wooded land, and there were broad stretches of\nwhite sand, where they went, and the land was level by the sea. Then\nsaid Leif: 'This land shall have a name according to its nature, and we\nwill call it Markland' (_i.e._, Wood Land). They returned to the ship\nforthwith and sailed away upon the main, with northeast winds, and were\nout two 'doegr' before they sighted land. They sailed toward this land\nand came to an island which lay to the northward off the land. There\nthey went ashore and looked about them, the weather being fine, and they\nobserved that there was dew upon the grass; and it so happened that they\ntouched the dew with their hands, and touched their hands to their\nmouths; and it seemed to them that they had never tasted anything so\nsweet as this. They went aboard their ship again, and sailed into a\ncertain sound, which lay between the island and a cape which jutted out\nfrom the land on the north, and they stood in westering past the cape.\nAt ebb-tide there were broad stretches of shallow water there, and they\nran their ship aground; and it was a long distance from the ship to the\nocean. Yet were they so anxious to go ashore that they could not wait\nuntil the tide should rise under their ship, but hastened to the land,\nwhere a certain river flows out from a lake. As soon as the tide rose\nbeneath their ship, however, they took the boat and rowed to the ship,\nwhich they towed up the river, and then into the lake, where they cast\nanchor and carried their hammocks ashore, and built themselves booths\nthere. They afterward determined to establish themselves there for the\nwinter, and they accordingly built a large house. There was no lack of\nsalmon either in the river or in the lake, and larger salmon than they\nhad ever seen before. The country thereabouts seemed to be possessed of\nsuch good qualities that cattle would need no fodder there during the\nwinter. There was no frost there during the winter, and the grass\nwithered but little. The days and the nights were of more nearly equal\nlength than in Greenland or Iceland.\"\n\nNow follows an account of the exploring parties which Leif sent out,\nsome of which he joined, while at other times he remained behind to\nguard the house. Here occurs, with curious abruptness, this graphic bit\nof characterization: \"Leif was a large and powerful man, and of most\nimposing bearing, a man of sagacity, and a very just man in all things.\"\n\nA very pretty incident is now related of the German Tyrker, who had been\none of the thralls of Eric the Red, and of whom Leif was very fond. It\nwas the custom in the households of Norse chiefs to give children into\nthe special charge of a trusted thrall, who was then styled the child's\nfoster-father. Sometimes the thrall was presented to the child as a\n\"tooth-gift,\" _i.e._, in commemoration of its cutting its first tooth.\n\n\"It was discovered one evening that one of their company was missing;\nand this proved to be Tyrker, the German. Leif was sorely troubled by\nthis; for Tyrker had lived with Leif and his father for a long time, and\nhad been very devoted to Leif when he was a child. Leif severely\nreprimanded his companions and prepared to go in search of him. They had\nproceeded but a short distance from the house when they were met by\nTyrker, whom they received most cordially. Leif observed at once that\nhis foster-father was in lively spirits.... Leif addressed him and\nasked: 'Wherefore art thou so belated, foster-father mine, and astray\nfrom the others?'\n\n\"In the beginning Tyrker spoke for some time in German, rolling his\neyes, and grinning, and they could not understand him. But after a time\nhe addressed them in the Norse tongue.\n\n\"'I did not go much farther [than you]; yet I have something novel to\nrelate. I have found grapes and vines.'\n\n\"'Is this indeed true, foster-father?' asked Leif.\n\n\"'Of a certainty it is true' replied he; 'for I was born where there is\nno lack of either grapes or vines.'\n\n\"They slept the night through, and on the morrow Leif said to his\nshipmates:\n\n\"'We will now divide our labors; and each day will either gather grapes,\nor cut vines, or fell trees, so as to obtain a cargo of these for my\nship.'\n\n\"They acted upon this advice, and it is said that their after-boat was\nfilled with grapes. A cargo sufficient for the ship was cut, and when\nthe spring came they made their ship ready and sailed away. And from its\nproducts Leif gave the land a name and called it Wineland.\n\n\"They sailed out to sea and had fair winds until they sighted Greenland,\nand the fells below the glacier; then one of the men spoke up and said:\n'Why do you steer the ship so close to the wind?' Leif answered: 'I have\nmy mind upon my steering and upon other matters as well. Do you not see\nanything out of the common?' They replied that they saw nothing unusual.\n'I do not know,' says Leif, 'whether it is a ship or a skerry that I\nsee.' Now they saw it, and said that it must be a skerry. But he was so\nmuch more sharp-sighted than they, that he was able to discern men upon\nthe skerry. 'I think it best to tack,' says Leif, 'so that we may draw\nnear to them and be able to render them assistance, if they stand in\nneed of it. And if they should not be peaceably disposed, we shall have\nbetter command of the situation than they.'\n\n[Illustration: Leif Ericson off the Coast of Vineland.]\n\n\"They approached the skerry, and lowering their sail, cast anchor and\nlaunched a second small boat, which they had brought with them.\nTyrker inquired who was the leader of the party. He replied that his\nname was Thare, and that he was a Norwegian. 'But what is thy name?'\nLeif gave his name. 'Art thou a son of Eric the Red, of Brattahlid?'\nsays he. Leif replied that he was. 'It is now my wish,' Leif continued,\n'to take you all into my ship, and likewise as much of your possessions\nas the ship will hold.'\n\n\"This offer was accepted, and [with their ship] thus laden, they held\ntheir course toward Ericsfirth, and sailed until they arrived at\nBrattahlid. Having discharged his cargo, Leif invited Thare, with his\nwife, Gudrid, and three others to make their home with him, and procured\nquarters for the other members of the crew, both for his own and Thare's\nmen. Leif rescued fifteen men from the skerry. He was from that time\nforth called Leif the Lucky.\"\n\nThe time of Leif's voyage to Wineland has been fixed at 1000 A.D. For we\nlearn that it took place while Olaf Tryggveson (995-1000 A.D.) was king\nin Norway; and scarcely less than four or five years could have elapsed\nsince Leif's first meeting with the king in Drontheim, shortly after the\ndeath of his predecessor, Earl Hakon.\n\nThe remainder of the Saga of Eric the Red is occupied with an account of\nthe successive Wineland voyages of Thorwald Ericson, the brother of\nLeif, Thorfinn Karlsefne, and of Leif's sister, Freydis, who was as\nquarrelsome, proud, and pugnacious as her father. The Indians (called by\nthe Norsemen Skrellings), who had failed to disturb Leif, made\ndemonstrations of hostility against Thorfinn Karlsefne, and after the\nloss of several of his men, compelled him to abandon the attempt at a\npermanent settlement.\n\nThe tradition of these Wineland voyages continued, however, to be\ntransmitted from generation to generation in Iceland, and in the early\npart of the fourteenth century was committed to writing.\n\nIt will be seen that the saga to which I have referred was not written\nprimarily with a view to establish Leif's claim to be the discoverer of\nWineland. In the first place the story, in the shape in which we have\nit, is more than a century and a half older than the Columbian\ndiscovery, and there could, accordingly, be no great glory in having\nfound a country which had since been lost. Secondly, the saga is (like\nmost Icelandic sagas) a family chronicle, purporting to relate all\nmatters of interest pertaining to the race of Eric the Red. The Wineland\nvoyages are treated as remarkable incidents in this chronicle, but they\nhardly occupy any more space than properly belongs to them in a family\nhistory which is concerned with a great many other things besides. The\nimportance of this as corroborating the authenticity of the narrative,\ncan scarcely be over-estimated.\n\n[Signature: Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen.]\n\n\n\n\nHAROLD, KING OF ENGLAND\n\n(1022-1066)\n\n[Illustration: Harold, King of England.]\n\n\nHarold II., the last of the native English kings, was the second son of\nEarl Godwin by his Danish wife Gytha, the sister of Earl Ulf, and was\nborn about 1022. At an early age he was made Earl of the East Angles and\nhe shared his father's outlawry in 1051, finding a refuge in Ireland.\nNext year, together with his brother Leofwin, he crossed the Channel\nwith nine ships, defeated the men of Somerset and Devon at Porlock, and\nravaged the country, next joined his father at Portland, and shared the\ntriumph of his return. Harold was at once restored to his earldom, and\nnext year (1053) succeeded to his father's earldom of the West Saxons.\nHenceforward he was the right hand of King Edward, and still more after\nthe deaths of the old Earls Leofric and Siward, he directed the whole\naffairs of the kingdom, with an unusual union of gentleness and vigor.\nHis brother Tostig succeeded Siward as Earl of the Northumbrians in\n1055, and two years later two other brothers were raised to earldoms:\nGurth to that of the East Anglians, Leofwin to one formed out of Essex,\nKent, and the other shires round about London. Meantime Harold drove\nback the Welsh marauders of King Griffith out of Herefordshire, and\nadded that post of danger to his earldom. The death in 1057 of the\nAEtheling Edward, the son of Edmund Ironside, who had been brought back\nfrom Hungary as heir to the throne, opened up the path for Harold's\nambition, and from this time men's eyes rested on him as their future\nking. And nature had equalled fortune in her kindness, for his handsome\nand stalwart figure and his gentle and conciliatory temper were kingly\nqualities that sat well upon his sagacity, his military skill, and his\npersonal courage. Harold's policy throughout was thoroughly English,\ncontrary to the predominant French influences that had governed the\nearly part of Edward's reign. He was English in everything, even to his\npreference for secular priests to monks. He made his pilgrimage to Rome\nin 1058, and after his return completed his church at Waltham, known\nlater as Waltham Abbey. In 1063, provoked by the fresh incursions of\nGriffith, he marched against him, and by making his men put off their\nheavy armor and weapons, and adopt the Welshmen's own tactics, he was\nable to traverse the whole country, and beat the enemy at every point.\nGriffith was killed by his own people, whereupon Harold gave the\ngovernment to the dead king's brothers, Bleddyn and Rhiwallon, who swore\noaths of fealty both to King Edward and to himself.\n\nIt is impossible to say exactly at what date occurred that famous visit\nof Harold to the court of Duke William, in Normandy, of the results of\nwhich the Norman writers make so much, although with many\ncontradictions, while the English writers, with the most marked and\ncareful unanimity, say nothing at all. It seems most likely that Harold\ndid make some kind of oath to William, most probably under compulsion,\nwhen he had fallen into his hands after being shipwrecked on the coast\nof Ponthieu, and imprisoned by its Count Guy. Mr. Freeman thinks the\nmost probable date to be 1064. It is at least certain that Harold helped\nWilliam in a war with the Bretons, and in the Bayeux tapestry we see his\nstalwart form lifting up two Normans at once when they were in danger of\nbeing swept away by the river Coesnon, which divides Normandy from\nBrittany. The Norman writers make Harold formally swear fealty to\nWilliam, promising to marry one of his daughters, and we are told that\nadditional sanctity was given to this oath by its being made upon a\nchest full of the most sacred relics.\n\nIn 1065, the Northumbrians rebelled against the rule of Tostig, and\nHarold found himself compelled, between policy and a sense of justice,\nto side with them, and to acquiesce in their choice of Morcar and the\nbanishment of Tostig. At the beginning of 1066 King Edward died, his\nlast breath being to recommend that Harold should be chosen king. He was\ncrowned on January 6th, and at once set himself with steadfast energy to\nconsolidate his kingdom. At York he won over the reluctant men of\nNorthumbria, and he next married Ealdgyth, Griffith's widow, in order to\nsecure the alliance of her brothers, Morcar and Edwin. His short reign\nof forty weeks and one day was occupied with incessant vigilance against\nthe attacks of two formidable enemies at once. Duke William lost no time\nin beginning his preparations for the invasion of England, and Tostig,\nafter trying the Normans and the Scots, and filibustering along the\ncoasts on his own account, succeeded in drawing to his side the famous\nHarold Hardrada, king of Norway. In the month of September the two\nreached the Humber, and Harold marched to meet them, resting neither day\nnor night. The Icelandic historian, Snorro, in his dramatic narrative of\nthe fight, tells how Harold rode out accompanied with twenty of his\nhousecarls to have speech with Earl Tostig, and offer him peace; and\nwhen asked what amends King Hardrada should have for his trouble in\ncoming, replied, \"Seven feet of the ground of England, or more\nperchance, seeing he is taller than other men.\" At Stamford Bridge\nHarold overtook his enemy, and after a bloody struggle won a complete\nvictory (September 25, 1066), both Tostig and Harold Hardrada being\namong the slain. But four days later Duke William landed at Pevensey.\nHarold marched southward with the utmost haste, bringing with him the\nmen of Wessex and East Anglia, and the earldoms of his brothers; but the\ntwo earls, Edwin and Morcar, held aloof and kept back the men of the\nnorth, although some of the men of Mercia, in the earldom of Edwin,\nfollowed their king to the fatal struggle which was fought out from\nnine in the morning till past nightfall, on October 14, 1066. The\nEnglish fought with the most stubborn courage, and the battle was only\nlost by their allowing the pretended flight of the Normans to draw them\nfrom their impregnable position on the crest of the hill, ringed with an\nunbroken shield wall. On its slope, right in front of the Norman army,\nwaved the golden dragon of Wessex, as well as the king's own standard, a\nfighting man wrought upon it in gold. Here Harold stood with his mighty\ntwo-handed axe, and hewed down the Normans as they came. Before\nnightfall he fell, pierced through the eye with an arrow. His housecarls\nfought where they stood till they fell one by one; his brothers, Gurth\nand Leofwin, died beside him. The king's body was found upon the field,\nrecognized only by a former mistress, the fair Eadgyth Swanneshals\n(\"Edith of the swan's neck\").\n\nAt first, William ordered it to be buried on the rocks at Hastings, but\nseems after to have permitted it to be removed to Harold's own church at\nWaltham. Than Harold, no braver or more heroic figure ever filled a\nthrone; no king ever fought more heroically for his crown. If he failed,\nit was because he had to bow his head to fate, and in his death he saved\nall the honor of his family and his race. His tragic story has given a\nsubject for a romance to Lytton, and for a stately drama to Tennyson.\n\n[Illustration: Edith searching for the Body of Harold.]\n\n\n\n\nTHE CID\n\nBy HENRY G. HEWLETT\n\n(1026-1099)\n\n[Illustration: The Cid.]\n\n\nThe narratives concerning the life and exploits of the Cid are, to a\ngreat extent, merely poetic. Yet it has been wisely said, that much\nwhich must be rejected as not fact may still be accepted as truth; that\nis, there is often to be found under the husks of legend and myth, a\nsound kernel of historical reality. This may be the case with respect to\nthe Cid, who probably was a warrior so remarkable for genius or bravery\nabove his fellows that he gathered up in a single fame the reputation of\nmany others, with whose deeds he was credited, and whom, as a class, he\naccordingly represents in history.\n\nSpain, long one of the most flourishing provinces of the Roman Empire,\nwas among the first to fall under the sway of the Visigoths, a warlike\nbut enlightened race, which soon embraced Christianity. For three\ncenturies the country remained under Gothic rule, but fell, in 712,\nby the invasion of the Arabian conquerors of Africa--a remnant of\nChristians only preserving an independent monarchy in the mountains of\nAsturia. This little seed of freedom grew and bore fruit. France proved\na formidable barrier against further invasion; and in Spain itself\ninternal jealousies among the Arab families weakened the Moslem and\nstrengthened the Christian power. In the eleventh century there were\nseveral states in Spain wholly unfettered by a foreign yoke. The enmity\nbetween the two races and creeds was bitter, and war raged perpetually.\nYet it often happened that, at the prompting of private revenge or\nfamily quarrels, alliances were made between kingdoms thus naturally\nopposed to each other. A recollection of this fact is essential to a\nclear understanding of Spanish history at this period.\n\nAt the commencement of the eleventh century the chief Christian states\nof Spain became, through divers marriages, united under one king,\nSancho, who died in 1034 dividing his territories among his three sons:\nof whom Garcia took Navarre, Ferdinand, Castile, and Ramirez, Aragon.\nLeon, the remaining Christian monarchy, was ruled by Bermudez III.,\nwhose sister Ferdinand of Castile had married. Just as this apparent\njunction of interest occurred among the warriors of the Cross, the\ngreatest confusion prevailed among those of the Crescent. The mighty\nhouse of the Ommiades--perhaps the most illustrious of the factions into\nwhich the successors of the Prophet were divided--no longer commanded\nthe allegiance of the Arabs of Spain. Its last prince fled, and the\nchief cities fell into the hands of independent lords, who constituted\nthemselves petty Emirs in their own dominions. Instead, however, of\ntaking full advantage of this state of anarchy to extend their united\npower, the Christian kings weakened each other by unnatural and deadly\nquarrels. Ferdinand, King of Castile, seems to have been the principal\naggressor. His great captain in his wars, both with Moslem and Christian\nstates, was Rodrigo Laynez, who was called also by the Spaniards Ruy\nDiaz de Rivar, from the name of his birthplace, and by the Arabs _El\nSayd_ (Lord), which has been altered into Cid. He was probably born\nabout the year 1026, or rather later, at the Castle of Rivar, near\nBurgos, in Old Castile, of a noble but not wealthy family. He joined the\narmy of Ferdinand, and rose by his talents, strength, and courage to the\nhighest place in that king's service. Among the romantic stories told of\nhis early career is one concerning his marriage, which forms the subject\nof a popular ballad. The father of Rodrigo, having been injured by a\nCount Gomez, the young knight defied the latter to a duel and slew him.\nThe count's daughter, Ximena, in a storm of grief and rage, flew to the\nking, and cried for vengeance on Rodrigo, who met her face to face, and\nawaited the result of her entreaties.\n\nNo one, however, was hardy enough to offer himself as the damsel's\nchampion against so doughty a warrior, and Rodrigo calmly retired. His\nmanly bearing and fame won him a place in the very heart which he had so\ndeeply offended; and, with truly Spanish impetuosity, Ximena gave him,\nnot only pardon, but love. She again repaired to the king and asked\nleave to bestow her hand upon the knight, urging the curious plea that\nshe foresaw he would one day be the most powerful subject in the realm.\nInformed of this request, of which the king approved, Rodrigo consented\nto the marriage, as an act of obedience to his sovereign and of justice\nto the lady. The meeting of this strangely matched pair is thus\ndescribed in the ballad (Lockhart's translation):\n\n  \"But when the fair Ximena came forth to plight her hand,\n   Rodrigo, gazing on her, his face could not command:\n   He stood, and blushed before her: thus at the last said he,\n  'I slew thy sire, Ximena, but not in villany:\n   In no disguise I slew him; man against man I stood;\n   There was some wrong between us, and I did shed his blood:\n   I slew a man; I owe a man; fair lady, by God's grace,\n   An honored husband shalt thou have in thy dead father's place.'\"\n\nIt is unfortunate that this charming story is supposed to have but\nlittle foundation in fact. Many of Rodrigo's legendary exploits are\nstill less authentic; but history and fable unite in declaring him a\nwarrior of no common stamp. His master, King Ferdinand, as we have said,\ninvaded the territories of his brothers and friends, besides those of\nhis enemies. Garcia, Ramirez, and Bermudez successively fell before his\nattacks, which Rodrigo, in the true spirit of knightly obedience to his\nlord, did not hesitate to lead. Sancho, the king's eldest son, was\nRodrigo's most intimate friend; and on the accession of the prince to\nhis father's throne on the death of Ferdinand, in 1065, Rodrigo became\nCampeador (or, as the Arabs call him, _El Cambitur_); that is, head of\nthe army. The new king followed in his father's courses of injustice,\nand drove his brother, Alfonso, King of Leon, into exile.\n\n[Illustration: The Cid ordering the Execution of Ahmed.]\n\nIn 1072 Sancho besieged Zamora, which one of his sisters, whom he had\nlikewise despoiled, held out against him. The king was killed during the\nsiege, and, as it was suspected, by the agency of his exiled brother,\nAlfonso, who succeeded to the throne. Rodrigo felt his friend's death\ndeeply, and did not scruple to avow his suspicions of Alfonso. Before\npromising allegiance, the Campeador insisted that the king should\ncleanse himself by an oath of the accusation which popular rumor had\nbrought against him. To this Alfonso, whether innocent or guilty, not\nunnaturally demurred; but the powerful warrior was firm, and the king at\nlast yielded. When the appointed day arrived, Alfonso made his\nappearance, surrounded by his courtiers, all obsequiously vying in\npraise of his glory and virtue, and contemptuous denunciations of his\ndaring accuser. Rodrigo stood alone and gazed on the king sternly. Some\nof the nobles endeavored to dissuade him from holding this attitude of\nopposition, and to induce him to forego the demand which he had made;\nbut he put them aside and repeated his challenge. Alfonso dared not\nrefuse to accept, and accordingly recited aloud the form of oath\nprescribed on such occasions, affirming, in the presence of his maker\nand the saints of heaven, that he was guiltless of the death of his\nbrother. He had no sooner concluded than all eyes were turned upon the\nCid, who, in deep, solemn tones, and with the most impressive\nearnestness of manner, imprecated on the head of his king every curse\nthat heaven or hell could inflict, if, in taking that oath, he had\ncommitted perjury. The awed assembly then broke up. Rodrigo, from that\nhour, was hated by the king and shunned by the court.\n\nYet, aware of the Cid's value, Alfonso seems to have concealed his\nresentment for some time, and even endeavored to win the affection of\nhis great subject by allying him in marriage with one of the royal\nfamily. Rodrigo's wife was now dead, and he consented to marry the\nprincess proposed to him, whose name was also Ximena. The marriage took\nplace in 1074. It had not the effect, however, of uniting the king and\nthe Cid. After having achieved a brilliant success over the Arabs of\nGranada, who were at war with two other Moslem states in alliance with\nCastile, and having signalized his humanity by releasing all his\nprisoners, the great Campeador was disgraced and banished by his\nungrateful master. At the court of the Emir of Saragossa the exile found\na ready welcome, and was appointed to a high post in the government of\nthe kingdom. He did not bear arms against his own sovereign, but headed\nthe Arabs in several battles with the Christians of Aragon and other\nstates. The invasion of a Moorish host in Spain, under the eminent\nCaliph Jusef Ben Taxfin, chief of the Almoravides and conqueror of\nMorocco; the rapid subjugation of the independent Emirs, and the defeat\nof Alfonso's army at the battle of Zalaka, in 1087, recalled the\nCastilians to a sense of Rodrigo's worth. He was invited to return by\nAlfonso, and with great generosity consented, bringing with him a large\nbody of men raised by his own exertion and cost. For two years he made\nhis name terrible to the Moors, as the great Christian champion.\n\nBut even this fame was not sufficient to secure his influence at court,\nand about the year 1090 he was once more banished, and his estates were\nseized. He appears from this time to have commenced a life of\nadventurous and independent warfare with the Moors. He besieged Alcocer,\na strong Moorish fortress on the borders of Aragon, and finally took it.\nWith a band of determined warriors of his own stamp he ravaged,\nconsumed, and spoiled all the Moslem territories which he invaded,\nmaking a castle on a rock in Ternel his chief stronghold, and thence\nsallying out in forays. The place has been ever since called the Rock of\nthe Cid.\n\nThe last and greatest achievement of this hero was the taking of\nValencia. This city was in the hands of a Moslem prince, Alcadir by\nname, who had refused to acknowledge the authority of Jusef and the\nAlmoravides over Spain, which they were attempting to subdue. The Cid,\neither as an ally of Alcadir, or from motives of policy, assisted him in\nthe defence of the city; but it was taken through the treachery of its\nCadi, Ahmed. For this service, the traitor was made governor in the room\nof Alcadir, who fell fighting bravely. A kinsman of the betrayed king\ndetermined to avenge his death, and asked the Cid's aid, which was\npromptly given. The Arabian historians relate that Ahmed yielded after a\nbrief siege, on conditions of safety for himself and family. It is\nfurther related that this promise was faithlessly broken, and the guilty\nAhmed sentenced by Rodrigo to be burned alive for his crimes. The\nChristian historians happily acquit the Cid's memory of this barbarity;\nbut all unite in recording the successful siege of the city, which he\ntook in 1094. While he lived, the Moors vainly tried to retake it; but\non his death, which is supposed to have occurred in 1099, Valencia again\nfell. Romance has colored with glowing tints this scanty historic\noutline of the Cid's life. Spanish literature, for two or three hundred\nyears after his death, is almost confined to epic or ballad poetry, of\nwhich he is the hero. To acquire such a fame demanded a force of\ncharacter, which, if not accurately painted by these loving and fanciful\nnarrators, cannot have fallen far short of the glory with which the\nworld will forever associate the name of the Cid Campeador.\n\n\n\n\nST. BERNARD\n\nBy HENRY G. HEWLETT\n\n(1091-1153)\n\n[Illustration: St. Bernard.]\n\n\nIn 1091, when the career of the Cid was drawing to a close in Spain, a\nyet greater Christian champion was born in France; greater, if only in\nthis, that the weapons of his warfare were not carnal. That the work was\ngood in itself, we think will be clear from a perusal of the life of the\nwarrior-monk, St. Bernard.\n\nHis birthplace was Fontaines, near Dijon, in Burgundy; his father,\nTecelin, a knight of honorable reputation, and so absorbed in his\nprofession that he was compelled to leave the care of his seven sons, of\nwhom Bernard was the third, to his wife Aleth. She was a pious and\ngentle woman, strictly attached to the duties of religion, and anxious\nfor the spiritual rather than the temporal welfare of her children, whom\nshe therefore devoted to the cloister. A dream, it is said, had\nindicated to her the future fame of her third son, before his birth. He\nrapidly displayed signs of possessing no ordinary character. His\neducation was undertaken by the then celebrated school of Chantillon and\nthe University of Paris, where he remained some years, actively pursuing\nhis studies. His mother died soon after his return home, and he then\nproceeded to fulfil her wish, which accorded with his own, of becoming a\nmonk. His father and friends endeavored to dissuade him from this step,\nbut instead, he persuaded five of his brothers and twenty-five other\nfriends to join him in the career which he had chosen. His father and\nremaining brothers subsequently followed him, and the whole family took\nmonastic vows. Bernard did not select for his abode one of those\nmonasteries whose wealth and splendor had corrupted the intention of\ntheir founders, and softened the severity of the original discipline.\nHis motive was truly religious, and took the superstitious form then\nalmost inseparable from earnest piety. He and his comrades entered the\npoor convent of Citeaux, near Dijon, where the rules of life enjoined by\nSt. Benedict in the sixth century were observed with great rigor.\nFrequent watchings, fasts, bleedings, and scourgings, for the purpose of\nmortifying the body; abstinence from conversation or laughter; habits of\nperpetual devotion, laborious exertion, and humble obedience to the\nabbot, were the main features of the system. Bernard undertook the\nduties of his office with such incessant zeal, and displayed such\namazing control over his appetites, that he seriously weakened his\nhealth, but at the same time enlarged his reputation to such an extent\nthat the convent became overcrowded with the number of those whom he had\nattracted thither. He was therefore appointed, after three years'\nresidence at Citeaux, to head a colony of monks which was to be fixed in\nthe valley of Clairvaux--a desolate though beautiful spot in the\nbishopric of Langres. The tears of their brethren accompanied the\ndeparture of Bernard and the twelve others who composed the band. It was\nin the year 1115, and at the age of twenty-six, that he was made Abbot\nof Clairvaux. His appearance at the consecration is described as that of\na corpse rather than a man, so emaciated with the rigors of devotion had\nhe become. He had frequent visions, perhaps from his weakness, in one of\nwhich he imagined that the Virgin Mary herself appeared to him. The\nprivations of the members of his little colony were most severe. The\nseason for sowing had been spent in building the convent, and when the\nwinter came they were reduced to little better than starvation. Coarse\nbread and beech-leaves steeped in salt were their only food. This scanty\nsustenance, together with the strict adherence to the Benedictine rule,\nin which Bernard still persisted, so shattered his health, that the\nbishop of the diocese, who was his personal friend, at last interfered,\nand released him from the active duties of abbot. But as soon as a brief\nrespite had restored his strength, Bernard renewed his self-mortifying\npractices. A fresh attack of illness followed, and he was obliged\npermanently to relax his habits. In after-years he lamented the error\ninto which his early enthusiasm and mistaken zeal had led him, the\neffects of which greatly marred his future influence for good.\n\nThough debarred from laboring in his own sphere, Bernard's energetic\nmind would not let him rest, and he began from this time to exercise\nthe power which his reputation for sanctity had brought him, in\npolitical life. He well knew the nature of the position which he was\nthus enabled to take, and did not shrink from its perils. \"Bernard!\nwherefore art thou here on earth?\" is said to have been his\nconstant self-appeal. Poor and unarmed, a priest or monk in those\ndays had nothing wherewith to oppose the tyranny of the powerful\nnobility, save the weapons of religion and intellect. How\nrighteously they could be used we shall see in the case of Bernard.\nIn repeated instances he interposed the weight of his authority\nbetween the anger of a king or noble and the weakness of a subject\nor tenant, and scarcely ever failed in his object. One of the most\nremarkable examples of this kind was his conduct toward the Count of\nAquitaine. This nobleman, a man of immense strength of will no less\nthan body, and violent and despotic beyond his fellows, having\nespoused the cause of one rival Pope against another, dismissed from\ntheir sees several excellent bishops in his territory who were\nadverse to his views, and supplied their places without regard to\nfitness of character. Bernard, having twice remonstrated in vain,\nafter the last interview held a solemn mass in the church near the\ncount's castle, at which that nobleman, as excommunicated, could not\nbe present, but stood outside. The consecration of the wafer was\nduly performed, and the blessing bestowed upon the people, when\nBernard suddenly made his way through the crowd, bearing in his hand\nthe Host on its paten (or plate), and confronted the astonished\ncount as he stood at the church door amid his soldiery. With pale,\nstern face, and flashing eyes, the daring monk thus addressed the\nhaughty chief: \"Twice have the Lord's servants entreated you, and\nyou have despised them. Lo! now the blessed Son of the Virgin--the\nHead and Lord of that Church which you persecute--appears to you!\nBehold your Judge, to whom your soul must be rendered! Will you\nreject Him like His servants?\" A hush of awe and expectation among\nthe bystanders followed these words, broken by a groan from the\nconscience-stricken count, whose imagination was filled with such\nlively terror of Divine wrath that he fell fainting to the ground.\nThough raised up by his men, he again fell speechless. Bernard,\nseizing the opportunity, called to his side one of the deposed\nbishops, and on the count's recovery ordered that the kiss of\nreconciliation should be bestowed, and the exile restored. The\neffect of this scene was not transient, for the proud spirit had\nbeen subdued in the count's heart, and he performed penance for his\noffences by going on pilgrimage.\n\n[Illustration: The Vision of St. Bernard.]\n\nVarious other instances of Bernard's boldness in rebuking kings, nobles,\nand even Popes, might be adduced. His most remarkable appearance as a\npolitical peace-maker was in the dispute which took place after the\ndeath of Pope Honorius II., as to the succession to the popedom. Two\nrival factions at Rome contended for the claims of separate candidates:\none a wealthy and worldly, the other a learned and pious, cardinal.\nBernard, as we may suppose, supported the cause of the latter, who took\nthe name of Innocent II. At the council of Etampes, where Louis VI. of\nFrance and his nobles were assembled, the monk's eloquence prevailed\nover all the arguments of diplomacy, and the influence of France was\npledged to the side of Innocent. Bernard next engaged aid from Henry I.,\nof England, and Lothaire, the Emperor of Germany. He then proceeded to\nMilan, where the party of the rival Pope, Anaclete, and his supporter,\nConrad, Duke of Suabia, Lothaire's antagonist, was strongest. Bernard's\nfame was so great, and the imaginations of those who beheld him so\nfascinated by his force of will, that on his way the sick were carried\nforth to meet him, and numerous miracles were said to be wrought by the\ntouch of his garments. In Milan, through his eloquence, Anaclete's party\nwas completely vanquished, and the Milanese so impressed that they\noffered to displace their archbishop in Bernard's favor. But on this and\nother occasions he steadily refused any such rank, content to live and\ndie in a sphere where he could be more useful, if less exalted. He\nreturned to France, after a lengthened absence, in 1135, meeting on his\nway with a royal reception.\n\nHe was once more absorbed in the duties of his office, as Abbot of\nClairvaux, when again summoned to Italy by Innocent II., to oppose the\npower of Roger, the Norman King of Sicily, whose aid Anaclete had\nobtained. Bernard first passed into Germany, and successfully mediated\nbetween the emperor and the Suabian princes, inducing the latter to\nrelinquish their rebellion. Lothaire was then prevailed upon to aid\nInnocent by force of arms, while Bernard proceeded to employ force of\nintellect in the same service. He first won over by his arguments many\nof Anaclete's chief supporters, and then accepted a challenge which King\nRoger threw out, to dispute publicly in the Court of Salerno as to the\nclaims of the rival Popes, with Anaclete's champion, Cardinal Pietro di\nPisa. At this public contest Bernard not only confuted, but converted,\nthe cardinal, and reconciled him to Innocent. With Roger, Bernard was\nnot so successful, and a battle ensued between the armies of the\ncontending Popes. Innocent was captured, but contrived to make favorable\nterms with Roger; and a peace was agreed to, which was finally ratified\nby the death of Anaclete, in 1138. Another anti-pope having been set up,\nBernard used his personal influence with the pretender, and induced him\nto yield. Thus the schism in the Church was healed, and the good abbot\nreturned to Clairvaux.\n\nIn 1146 he was mainly instrumental in promoting the second crusade. News\nreached Europe that, two years before, the Christian state of Edessa\n(which, as we have already seen, was founded by Baldwin, brother of\nGodfrey de Bouillon) had, through the weakness of its government, fallen\ninto the hands of the Sultan of Bagdad, and Jerusalem was again in\nperil. Inflamed with enthusiasm, Bernard stirred up the hearts of his\ncountrymen to zeal in the cause of the Cross. Louis VII., of France, was\nreadily persuaded to undertake the crusade as a penance for his crimes;\nbut the Emperor Conrad, of Germany, was indisposed to exertion; and to\nhim, therefore, Bernard hastened, rousing the people of France and\nGermany as he travelled through. The frozen reluctance of the monarch\ncould not withstand the fiery earnestness of the monk. Conrad is said to\nhave dissolved into tears at the discourse, and eagerly accepted the\ncross which was offered. While in Germany Bernard showed his liberality\nof thought--rare in those days--by sternly rebuking the ignorance of a\nmonk who was denouncing the Jews as the cause of the recent calamities.\nAt the council of Vezelay (in Burgundy), held in 1146, Bernard's\neloquence was as exciting in its influence on his hearers as that of\nPope Urban had been on a previous occasion. As the speaker, at the end\nof his oration, held up the cross which was to be the badge of the\nenterprise, Louis VII. threw himself at the feet of his subject, and the\nwhole assembly thronged round him, shouting the old war-cry, \"It is\nGod's will!\" Bernard distributed to thousands of eager hands all the\ncrosses which he had brought with him; and finding these insufficient\nfor the demand, took off the Benedictine robe which he wore, and tore it\ninto cross-shaped pieces. So impressed were the chiefs of the crusading\narmy with his power over the people, that at a subsequent assembly they\neven offered the command of the expedition to him--an unwarlike monk.\n\nHe declined the post on the ground of unfitness, but had he accepted it,\nthe issue of the crusades might have been different from what it was.\nHis authority would at least have kept in check the discords, perfidies,\nand excesses to which he, probably with justice, afterward attributed\nthe failure of the enterprise. From these causes, together with a fatal\nincapacity on the part of the French and German generals, the second\ncrusade resulted in nothing but the wholesale massacre of the Christian\narmies by the Turks. Bernard, who had predicted the success of the\nexpedition, was deeply distressed at the unfortunate result; the more\nas, with great injustice, the weight of popular indignation fell upon\nhim and seriously damaged his influence. This disappointment, however,\ndid not discourage him, and only served to concentrate his attention for\nthe rest of his life on the more immediate duties of his calling.\n\nThese he had never neglected, even while immersed in religious politics.\nBy advice and example he greatly reformed the discipline of monastic\nlife. He continually preached in his own convent; and, either personally\nor through agents, is said to have founded upward of sixty monasteries\nin alliance with Clairvaux. Among them the Hospice of Mount St. Bernard,\nin Switzerland, has distinguished itself by loving deeds worthy of its\nfounder. Bernard was an eminent theologian, both in theory and practice,\nand many of his works are extant. They disclose very forcibly his strong\nintellect and warm heart. Many of his opinions were most liberal for his\nage, and he rejected several tenets, on which the Roman Catholic Church\nhas since insisted, with a decision which would have ranked him among\nheretics had he lived a few centuries later. He manifested,\nnevertheless, a want of freedom in his conduct toward the great Abelard,\nwho in that age represented the true Protestant spirit of inquiry into\nthe received doctrines of the Church. Against this daring thinker\nBernard unjustifiably employed the weight of authority which he\npossessed, to silence what he deemed a dangerous boldness of opinion.\nToward Abelard personally, however, he displayed nothing but generous\nand respectful courtesy, even in the heat of controversy; and it is\nsatisfactory to know that a cordial interchange of kindly feeling passed\nbetween these two eminent men long before their deaths.\n\nMany of Bernard's wise and good deeds are recorded, which cannot be\nnoticed here. We may refer to but one, which greatly influenced the\nworld for centuries after his death; namely, the sanction and aid which\nhe gave to the establishment of the Knight-Templars, a body of\nsoldier-priests, who devoted their lives to the preservation of the\nHoly Places and the protection of pilgrims. Had they faithfully adhered\nto the statutes which he drew up for their conduct, the exhibition of\nzeal which they were designed to make might have been as blessed to\nChristendom as their arrogance was cursed.\n\nA few years before his death, Bernard had the gratification of seeing\none of his own disciples raised to the papal chair, as Pope Eugenius\nIII. The new pontiff recognized his master's authority no less than\nbefore his accession, and Bernard's counsel and influence were\nrepeatedly used in his behalf. But the over-activity of the good abbot\ntoo soon decayed the slender strength which his firm will had wrested,\nas it were, from death in a hand-to-hand struggle that lasted for more\nthan forty years. Always sickly, frequently reduced to the brink of the\ngrave, yet perpetually at work, his constitution gave way in 1155, at\nthe age of sixty-three. His last act was worthy of his life. He was on a\ndying-bed when a discord broke out between the nobles and the burghers\nof the town of Mentz. Bernard rose, and once more entered the arena of\nstrife with the olive-branch of peace in his hand. The proud barons and\nthe angry citizens listened humbly to his gentle words, and shrank from\nthe mild glances of those eyes which his biographers scarcely ever\nmention without calling _dove-like_. The turbulence of passion was\nhushed, and Bernard returned to die. The filial tears of his disciples\nat Clairvaux, and the regrets of all the nation, followed him to the\ngrave. About twenty years after his death a decree of canonization\nawarded him the title of Saint, which, considering how it has been\ndisgraced by unholy bearers, will not seem so fitly to recognize his\nmerit as that name which the reverence of the Church has further\nbestowed on him--the _last_ of the Fathers.\n\n\n\n\nFREDERICK BARBAROSSA\n\nBy Lady LAMB\n\n(1121-1190)\n\n\nIt seems almost incredible that no history should exist of the childhood\nand early life of an emperor of such note as \"Barbarossa;\" yet, in spite\nof most diligent search, we have been compelled almost to renounce one\nof the most pleasing tasks of a biographer, which consists in making\nacquaintance with a hero in his infancy, and through childhood and youth\nfollowing his career to fame and glory. So far as we have been able to\ndiscover, no trace, except a few dry data, exists of \"Frederick of the\nRed Beard,\" until we find him setting out with his uncle, Conrad III.,\nin the spring of 1147, to join the second crusade against the Saracens.\nThe date of his birth is given as 1121, his father being Duke Frederick\nof Hohenstauffen (surnamed \"le Borgne\") and his mother Judith, daughter\nof Henry the Black, Duke of Bavaria; opinions are divided on the\nsubject of his birthplace, some writers mentioning the castle of\nVeitsberg, near Ravensburg, others the town of Weiblingen, in Nuremburg;\nbut since the main interest of his history does not begin until his\nsuccession to the paternal duchy of Swabia, and his departure for the\nHoly Land in 1147; his marriage with Adelaide, daughter of Theobald,\nMargrave of Vohburg, in 1149; and finally his accession to the imperial\nthrone in 1152, we must resign ourselves to silence on the subject of\nhis earlier years, and take up his history from the death of Conrad\nIII., and that monarch's choice of him as a successor, to the exclusion\nof his own son.\n\n[Illustration: Frederick Barbarossa.]\n\nFrom every possible point of view, Frederick of Hohenstauffen justified\nhis uncle's choice: endowed with the most brilliant qualities of heart\nand mind, he had already earned the suffrages of a great portion of his\nnew subjects by the manner in which he had distinguished himself during\nthe above-mentioned campaign in the Holy Land; moreover, as the son of\nFrederick of Hohenstauffen and Judith, daughter of Henry the Black, Duke\nof Bavaria, Ghibelline by his father and Guelph on his mother's side,\nthere seemed good ground for the hope that in him might terminate the\ndifferences of the two contending factions. The election diet was\naccordingly assembled at Frankfort, and it being there decided to\nconfirm Conrad's choice and to invest Frederick with the imperial\ninsignia, he was proclaimed King of the Romans and of Germany, and\nanointed at Aix-la-Chapelle on March 5, 1152, the ceremony being\nperformed by Arnoul de Gueldre, Archbishop of Cologne. Not lightly or\neagerly did the new emperor accept these dignities, but after mature and\ncareful consideration of his capacity to undertake the responsibility of\nguiding Germany through shoals and quicksands which had little by\nlittle enveloped the fair countries won three hundred years before by\nthe valiant Charlemagne.\n\nTidings of ever-recurring disturbances determined Frederick to make an\nexpedition into Italy, as soon as affairs in Germany would admit of his\nabsence; but there was much to be done first--many princes to be dealt\nwith, who, from different motives viewing his election with\ndissatisfaction, would take immediate advantage of his departure to\nbring all the horrors of civil war into his dominions. Bavaria, for\nexample, had been wrested from Henry the Lion, Duke of Saxony, during\nhis minority, by Conrad III., and now he conjured Frederick, with tears\nand threats, to restore it to him. This, by dint of much diplomacy,\nFrederick effected, and the result was that for some years he gained a\nstanch ally, instead of a designing enemy.\n\nHaving decided this quarrel and several others, into which we need not\nenter, Frederick prepared for that first expedition into Italy which, as\nwe have seen, he had resolved on from the commencement of his reign.\n\nAt the head of a numerous army he passed into Switzerland, and encamped\nnear the lake of Constance; when, under the banner of Count von\nLenzburg, the inhabitants of the three \"cents\" or cantons of Schwyz,\nUri, and Unterwalden came to do homage and offer their feudal service in\nthe field. At the same time, and while still engaged in assembling the\nforces with which to march into Italy, deputies from the city of Lodi\narrived, and throwing themselves at his feet, besought his interference\nagainst the oppressions of the Milanese, who had declared for Adrian\nIV., and whose town was indeed the very hot-bed of the papal faction.\nThe emperor instantly sent letters commanding the Milanese to make full\nreparation to their unfortunate neighbors; but on perusal of his behests\nthey tore the missives in a thousand pieces, and flung them in the faces\nof the messengers, sending back by them as their sole answer an open\ndefiance of his authority. Enraged at this insolence, Frederick crossed\nthe Alps, but, too prudent to risk an immediate attack on Milan,\nstrongly fortified and well garrisoned as it was, he sought rather to\nweaken it through the other towns with which it was in league, and\naccordingly besieged in turn Rosate, Cairo, and Asti, which all fell\ninto his hands, and ended with the total demolition of the city of\nTortona, which he reduced to ashes, afterward even levelling the ground\nupon which it had stood. This last victory proved the accuracy of\nBarbarossa's judgment, as regarded the remainder of the fifteen towns of\nthe so-called \"Lombard League,\" most of which, intimidated by his\nenergetic measures, sent ambassadors to do homage on their account. He\nnow seized the iron crown of Lombardy; was crowned at Pavia and again at\nMonza, after which he entered into negotiations with Adrian IV. for the\nperformance of the coronation ceremony at Rome.\n\nWe now come to the second marriage of our hero, when Beatrix, the only\nchild and heiress of Reinold of Burgundy, became his bride; and an echo\nof the old romantic halo which surrounds that incident in Barbarossa's\nlife reaches us, even in this prosaic age, as we picture to ourselves\nthe gallant, handsome Frederick riding off with his trusty knights to\ndeliver the fair heiress of Count Reinold from the gloomy prison in\nwhich her uncle, Count William, had confined her in order to appropriate\nthe rich domains of \"Franche-Comte.\" Over hill and dale sped the\nchivalrous band till the grim castle was reached; a halt was ordered,\nand an envoy sent to summon Count William to yield both his fortress and\nthe fair prisoner. At first the count meditated resistance, but on\nlooking out and investigating the number of Frederick's followers, he\ndecided to submit, and congratulated himself on his determination when\nFrederick's messenger said, on behalf of his master, that if the castle\nwere not given freely it would be taken by force, the fair Beatrix\nreleased, and her gloomy prison walls be prevented from hiding any other\nlike iniquity by being razed to the ground. Prudence, we hear, is the\nbetter part of valor, and evidently Count William shared in the opinion,\nfor we learn that he promptly let down the drawbridge, over which\nFrederick and his followers passed, and whence they presently issued,\nbearing in their midst the quondam prisoner, the lovely Beatrix, whose\neyes, moist with tears of gratitude, looked trustingly in the handsome\nface of her deliverer. So now, away, away to the old church at\nWurtzburg! deck the streets, ring the bells, bid priests don their\nvestments and burghers their best, and fall in merrily with the gay\nprocession that comes to do honor to Barbarossa and his fair bride!\n\nThus far the little romance of our emperor and Beatrix; now to return to\nthe sober and solemn statement of facts. During 1157 and the next year,\nFrederick busied himself with a campaign against Poland, and compelled\nBoleslaw, the king, to acknowledge the supremacy of the head of the\nGerman Empire, and to take the oath of fealty, barefoot and with his\nnaked sword hung round his neck; after which he bestowed the kingdom\nupon Wladislaw of Bohemia, whom he had appointed regent of the German\nstates during his absence, and whom he now took this opportunity to\nreward. New disputes began to arise between Pope Adrian and Frederick;\nand when at Besancon some indiscreet remarks of His Holiness as to\nhaving \"conferred the imperial crown\" on, and \"accorded it by favor\" to\nFrederick, were mentioned, that monarch waited no longer, but collected\na fresh army, and marched into Italy to chastise the pontiff, who, on\nhearing of his approach, and scared at the prospect of such a calamity,\nhastened to explain away his words as best he might. The emperor\naccepted his excuses, but as he was so far on the road, determined to\nattack Milan, whose inhabitants had increased the anger he already felt\nfor them by rebuilding Tortona (which, as we know, he had totally\ndestroyed), and expelling the inhabitants of Lodi from their dwellings\nfor having called him to mediate on the subject of their wrongs. With\n100,000 men (for almost all of the Lombard cities had, either willingly\nor by force, contributed their militia) and 15,000 cavalry, he advanced\ntoward Milan and laid siege to it. The inhabitants made a most obstinate\nresistance, and were at length only vanquished by the impossibility of\nfinding food for the vast population within the walls. A capitulation\nwas effected, by which the emperor contented himself with very moderate\nconditions, the most severe being that which condemned the city to the\nloss of her privileges; but when the chief nobles came to deliver the\nkeys, barefooted and with every token of humility, he forgot their\nformer insolence, and only required, in return for his clemency, a\nrenewal of the oath of fealty and their promise to rebuild the town of\nLodi.\n\nTo put an end to these ever-recurring disputes Frederick called together\na diet at Roncaglia, to which each of the Italian towns was commanded to\nsend its representative; the four most learned jurists from the\nuniversity of Bologna being also requested to attend, for the purpose of\ndrawing up a document which should conclusively define the relations\nbetween himself, as head of the empire, and the vassals and imperial\ncities of Italy. But when the learned quartet had heard all the points\nof dispute, and were in possession of the facts, their decision gave\nsuch almost limitless power to Frederick that several of the towns, and\nmore especially Milan, refused to abide by it and prepared for further\nresistance.\n\nFrederick had not been idle all the time these schisms were raging; on\nthe contrary, he had made a third expedition to Italy, from which he had\nbeen compelled to return, leaving the flower of his army lying dead,\nstricken down with pestilence. The next six years were spent in settling\nvarious disputes and complications which had arisen in Germany during\nhis absence; in causing his son Henry, a child of only five years of\nage, to be crowned at Aix-la-Chapelle; and in keeping some sort of check\non his vassal, Henry the Lion, who, now that he had increased his power\nby a marriage with Matilda, daughter of Henry II. of England, was no\nunimportant person in the empire, and moreover one extremely liable to\nbecome sulky and unmanageable if he had a chance, or the smallest\ngrievance to complain of.\n\nThe news now spread through Europe of the reconquest of Jerusalem by\nSaladin. These tidings effaced every other thought; the new Pope, Urban,\nforgot the thunders of the Church which he had been keeping, like a\nsecond sword of Damocles, suspended over Frederick's head; the emperor\nburied his resentment; a general peace was concluded, and Barbarossa,\nthen in his seventieth year, gave the regency of his dominions to his\nson Henry, and joyfully taking up the cross--accompanied by his son\nFrederick, the flower of German chivalry, and an army of 100,000\nmen--marched by way of Vienna to Presburg, and thence through Hungary,\nServia, and Roumelia.\n\nIsaac Angelus, the Greek emperor, who had promised to furnish the German\ntroops with provisions and assist Frederick in all ways, with the\nproverbial duplicity of his nation, broke his word, harassed him on his\nmarch, and threw Count von Diez, his ambassador, into prison; which\ntreachery greatly incensed the emperor, and caused him to give\npermission to his soldiers to plunder; the results being that the\ncountry soon bore sad traces of their passage, and that the two\nimportant towns of Manioava and Philippopolis were completely destroyed.\nThis reduced Isaac, professedly, to a state of contrition; and when\nBarbarossa advanced toward Constantinople, the Greek emperor, anxious to\nconciliate him, placed his entire fleet at his disposal for the\ntransport of the German army. Scarcely had they entered Asia Minor\nbefore Isaac's good resolutions abandoned him, and leaguing himself with\nanother faithless ally of Frederick, the Sultan of Iconium, they beset\nthe German troops, and did everything they possibly could to make the\nmarch more difficult; however, though they tried both fair means and\nfoul, their evil practices resulted in their own defeat, and the\nOriental Christians soon found they had every reason to congratulate\nthemselves upon the arrival of such a champion.\n\nThe fanaticism of a Turkish prisoner, who, acting as guide, wilfully\nsacrificed his life in order to mislead Frederick's army, involved the\nGermans in almost endless troubles by taking them amidst pathless\nmountains, where the horrors of starvation and the entire lack of water\nadded yet more miseries to their condition. Brave where all were\ndespairing, encouraging his men with cheering words and hopeful looks,\ntheir gallant old leader rode on, and footsore, half-starved, thirsty,\nand wretched as they were, the men tried, though tears of agony filled\ntheir eyes, to raise the notes of their Swabian war-song to please him.\nFrederick, Duke of Swabia, hastened forward with half the remaining\narmy, and gaining a victory over a body of Turks, pushed on till he came\nto the town of Iconium; when, scattering the enemy before him, he put\nthe inhabitants to the sword, gained a great booty, and, more than all,\nfood, drink, and rest for his weary men.\n\nA body of Turks had meanwhile crept round the town, and surrounded the\ncolumns which were advancing under Barbarossa; worn out with sorrow,\nhunger, and thirst, even his courage gave way for one moment, as he\nthought that this band of Turks had only, in all probability, reached\nhim by passing over the dead bodies of his brave son and the gallant\nSwabians; the aged monarch bowed his head, and the scorching tears of\nrage ran down his cheeks; then dashing his hand across his eyes, he\ncried: \"Christ still lives! Christ conquers!\" and shouting to his\nfollowers, they fell on the Turks like lions; Barbarossa with his own\nhand sending many a one to his last sleep. Then they marched forward to\nIconium, where rest and plenty awaited them, and where the old emperor\ndoubtless found much cause for thankfulness when he threw himself into\nthe arms of his brave son.\n\nAt Iconium the army stayed for some time, the soldiers being in sad need\nof repose; and then starting afresh, continued as far as the little\nriver Saleph; when, the road being encumbered with cattle, and the\nemperor impatient of delay, he commanded his men to cross the stream and\nplunged into the water. Here this hero of many combats, this brave and\nwise king, was destined to end his long life in an obscure river, of\nwhich he had probably never heard; the current was too strong for his\nhorse, and, nobly as the animal battled against it, both rider and steed\nwere drowned.\n\nThe Germans, almost frantic with grief and dismay, made frenzied efforts\nto regain the body of their leader; and, when at last they succeeded,\nthey conveyed it with much loving care to Antioch, where it was buried\nin St. Peter's Church.\n\nWith the history of the crusade after the death of our hero, we have\nnothing to do further than to say that his son, Frederick, took the\nchief command and led the brave followers of his gallant father until a\npestilence occasioned his death at Acre, in the following year, when the\nremnant of the once formidable army returned to Germany.\n\n[Illustration: The Death of Barbarossa.]\n\nHow Barbarossa still lingers in the hearts of his people even now, when\nall these hundreds of years divide his time from theirs, is shown by\na dozen legends. Most of these profess an utter disbelief in the death\nof their loved emperor; one of them tells how, in a rocky cleft of the\nKlyfhaueser Mountains, Barbarossa still sleeps calmly and peacefully; he\nsits before a marble table into which and through which his red beard\nhas grown; his head is bowed on his folded hands, and though he from\ntime to time lifts it and opens his eyes, it is but to shut them again\nquickly, for the right time of his awakening is not come; he has seen\nthe ravens flying round the mountain, and his long sleep will only end\nwhen their black forms are no longer visible, when he will step forth\nand avenge the wrongs of the oppressed.\n\nAnother story says that he is lying in the Untersberg near Salzburg, and\nthat when the dead pear-tree which, thrice cut down, plants itself\nafresh, shall bud forth and blossom, the gallant \"Rothbart\" will come\nout into the bright daylight, hang his shield on the pink-flowered\nbough, throw down his gauntlet as a gage to all evil-doers, and, aided\nby the good and chivalrous few who will still be inhabitants of this bad\nworld, will vanquish cruelty and wickedness, and realize the dream of a\ngolden age they have for so long anticipated.\n\n\n\n\nRICHARD COEUR DE LION\n\n(1157-1199)\n\n[Illustration: Richard Coeur de Lion.]\n\n\nRichard I., King of England, surnamed Coeur de Lion, was the third son\nof Henry II. and his queen, Eleanor, and was born at Oxford, in the\nking's manor house there, afterward the monastery of the White Friars,\nin September, 1157. By the treaty of Montmirail, concluded on January 6,\n1169, between Henry and Louis VII. of France, it was stipulated that the\nduchy of Aquitaine should be made over to Richard, who should do homage\nand fealty for it to Louis, and should espouse Adelais, or Alice, that\nking's youngest daughter; and in 1170 King Henry, being taken ill at\nDomfront, in Maine, made a will, by which he confirmed this arrangement.\nIn 1173 Richard, with his younger brother, Geoffrey, and their mother,\njoined their eldest brother, Henry, in his first rebellion against their\nfather. On the submission of the rebels, in September, 1174, Richard\nreceived two castles in Poitou, with half the revenue of that earldom,\nand, along with Geoffrey, did homage and swore fealty to their father.\nNevertheless Richard continued from this time to hold the government of\nthe whole of Aquitaine, and to be usually styled, as before, Duke of\nAquitaine, or Duke of Poitou (which were considered as the same title),\nalthough it appears that King Henry now looked upon the arrangements\nmade at the treaty of Montmirail as annulled, and that dukedom to have\nactually reverted to himself. In 1183 Richard refused, when commanded by\nhis father, to do homage for Aquitaine to his elder brother, Henry; on\nwhich his brothers Henry and Geoffrey invaded the duchy, and a new war\nensued between them and their father, who was assisted by Richard,\nwhich, however, was terminated by the death of the eldest of the three\nbrothers in June of that same year, when Richard became his father's\nheir-apparent. But at an interview between King Henry and Philip\nAugustus, now King of France, in November, 1188, Richard, apparently\nimpelled by a suspicion that his father intended to leave his crown to\nhis younger brother, John, and also professing to resent his father's\nconduct in withholding from him his affianced bride, the French king's\nsister, suddenly declared himself the liegeman of Philip for all his\nfather's dominions in France; whence arose a new war, in which Philip\nand Richard speedily compelled King Henry to yield to all their demands,\nand a treaty to that effect was about to be signed when King Henry died,\non July 6, 1189. Richard was present at the burial of his father in the\nchoir of the convent of Fontevrault.\n\nNotwithstanding his apprehensions, real or affected, of his brother\nJohn, Richard made no particular haste to come over to England, but,\ncontenting himself with ordering his mother, Queen Eleanor, to be\nliberated from confinement, and to be invested with the regency of that\nkingdom, he first proceeded to Rouen, where he was formally acknowledged\nas Duke of Normandy on July 20th, and it was August 13th before he\narrived at Portsmouth (or, as others say, at Southampton). His\ncoronation, from which the commencement of his reign is dated, took\nplace in Westminster Abbey on September 3d. It was on occasion of that\nceremony that a furious riot broke out among the Jews in London, which\nwas in the course of the next six months renewed in most of the great\ntowns throughout the kingdom. At York, in March, 1190, a body of 500\nJews, with their wives and children, having taken refuge in the castle,\nfound no other way of saving themselves from their assailants than by\nfirst cutting the throats of the women and children and then stabbing\none another.\n\nA short time before his father's death Richard, and his then friend,\nPhilip Augustus, had, as it was expressed, taken the cross, that is to\nsay, had publicly vowed to proceed to the Holy Land, to assist in\nrecovering from the infidels the city and kingdom of Jerusalem, which\nhad recently (1187) fallen into the hands of the great Saladin. The\nmighty expedition, in which all the principal nations of Western\nChristendom now joined, for the accomplishment of this object is known\nby the name of the Third Crusade. Leaving the government of his kingdom\nduring his absence in the hands of William Longchamp, Bishop of Ely and\nchancellor, and Hugh Pudsey, Bishop of Durham and justiciary, Richard\ntook his departure from England on December 11th of this same year,\n1189, and proceeding to Normandy, united his forces with those of\nPhilip Augustus in the plain of Vezelay on July 1, 1190. The two friends\nproceeded together at the head of an army of more than 100,000 men as\nfar as Lyons, where they separated on the 31st; Philip taking the road\nto Genoa, Richard that to Marseilles, where he was to meet his fleet.\nThe fleet, however, not arriving so soon as was expected, Richard in his\nimpatience hired thirty small vessels for the conveyance of himself and\nhis suite, and, sailing for Naples, arrived there on August 28th. On\nSeptember 8th he proceeded by sea to Salerno, where he remained till the\n23d, and then sailed for Messina, which port his fleet had reached about\na week before, with the army, which it had taken on board at Marseilles.\nThe French king had also arrived at Messina a few days before his\nbrother of England.\n\nThe two kings remained together at Messina till the end of March, 1191.\nDuring their stay Richard compelled Tancred, who had usurped the crown\nof Sicily, to relinquish the dower of his sister Joan, the widow of\nWilliam, the late sovereign, and to pay him besides forty thousand\nounces of gold. In return he betrothed his nephew, Arthur, the son of\nhis next brother, Geoffrey, to Tancred's infant daughter, and formed a\nleague offensive and defensive with the Sicilian king--a connection\nwhich afterward cost him dear, for it was the source of the enmity of\nthe Emperor Henry VI., who had married Constantia, the aunt of William,\nand claimed the throne of Sicily in right of his wife. After the dispute\nwith Tancred had been settled, the latent rivalry of Richard and Philip\nbroke out in a quarrel about the Princess Adelais, whom her brother\nPhilip insisted that Richard should espouse, in conformity with their\nbetrothment, now that his father no longer lived to oppose their union.\nBut if Richard had ever cared anything for the French princess, that\nattachment had now been obliterated by another, which he had some years\nbefore formed for Berengaria, the beautiful daughter of Sancho VI.\n(styled the Wise), King of Navarre; in fact he had by this time sent his\nmother Eleanor to her father's court to solicit that lady in marriage,\nand, his proposals having been accepted, the two were now actually on\ntheir way to join him. In these circumstances Philip found himself\nobliged to recede from his demand; and the matter was arranged by an\nagreement that Richard should pay a sum of ten thousand marks, in five\nyearly instalments, and restore Adelais, who had previously been\nconducted into England, and the places of strength that had been given\nalong with her as her marriage portion, when he should have returned\nfrom Palestine.\n\nRichard, having sent his mother home to England, sailed from Messina on\nApril 7th, at the head of a fleet of about two hundred ships, of which\nfifty-three were large vessels of the sort styled galleys; his sister,\nthe queen dowager of Sicily, and the Princess Berengaria accompanying\nhim. The King of France had set sail about a week before. Several\nmonths, however, elapsed before Richard reached the Holy Land, having\nbeen detained by an attack which he made upon the island of Cyprus;\nIsaac, the king, or emperor, of which had ill used the crews of some of\nthe English ships that had been driven upon his coasts in a storm.\nRichard took Limasol, the capital, by assault; and that blow was soon\nfollowed by the complete submission of Isaac and the surrender of the\nwhole island. Isaac was put into confinement, and remained a captive\ntill his death in 1195. Meanwhile the island of Cyprus was made over by\nRichard, in 1192, to Guy of Lusignan, upon his resignation of the now\nmerely titular royalty of Jerusalem to his rival Henry of Champagne and\nGuy's posterity reigned in that island till the year 1458.\n\nHaving married Berengaria at Limasol, Richard set sail from Cyprus, on\nJune 4th (1191), with a fleet now described as consisting of thirteen\nlarge ships called busses, fifty galleys, and a hundred transports; and\non the 10th he reached the camp of the crusaders assembled before the\nfortress of Acre, the siege of which had already occupied them not much\nless than two years, and had cost the lives, it is said of nearly two\nhundred thousand of the assailants. But the presence of the English\nking, although he was suffering from severe illness, and had to be\ncarried to the trenches on a litter, immediately inspired so much new\nvigor into the operations of the Christian army that, on July 12th, the\nplace surrendered, and Saladin, who had been harassing the besiegers\nfrom the neighboring mountains, withdrew, in conformity with the terms\nof capitulation. This great event, however, was immediately followed by\nan open rupture between Richard and King Philip, whose rivalry had\nalready exhibited itself in a variety of ways, and more particularly in\nthe support given by Richard to the claim of Guy of Lusignan, and by\nPhilip to that of Conrad of Montferrat to the vacant crown of Jerusalem.\nPhilip, in fact, took his departure from Palestine on the last day of\nJuly, leaving only ten thousand men, under the command of the Duke of\nBurgundy.\n\n[Illustration: Richard at the Battle of Arsur.]\n\nRichard performed prodigies of valor in the Holy Land, but, although a\nsignal defeat of Saladin on September 7th at Arsur was followed by the\ncapture of Jaffa and some other places of less importance, Jerusalem,\nwhich was the main object of the crusade, so far from being taken was\nnot even attacked. Jaffa, however, after it had again fallen into the\nhands of Saladin, was recovered by the impetuous valor of the English\nking. At last, on October 9, 1192, Richard set sail from Acre in a\nsingle vessel, his fleet, having on board his wife, his sister, and the\ndaughter of the captive King of Cyprus, having put to sea a few days\nbefore. The three ladies got safe to Sicily; but the first land the king\nmade was the island of Corfu, which he took about a month to reach. He\nleft Corfu about the middle of November with three coasting-vessels\nwhich he hired there; but after being a few days at sea he was compelled\nby a storm to land on the coast of Istria, at a spot between the towns\nof Aquileia and Venice. After narrowly escaping first from falling at\nGoritz into the hands of Maynard, a nephew of Conrad of Montferrat (to\nwhose murder in Palestine Richard, upon very insufficient evidence, was\nsuspected to be an accessory), and then at Friesach from Maynard's\nbrother, Frederick of Batesow, he was taken on December 21st, at Erperg,\nnear Vienna, by Leopold, Duke of Austria (a brother-in-law of Isaac of\nCyprus), and was by him consigned to close confinement in the castle of\nTyernsteign, under the care of his vassal, Baron Haldmar. In the course\nof a few days, however, by an arrangement between Leopold and the\nEmperor Henry VI., the captive king was transferred to the custody of\nthe latter, who shut him up in a castle in the Tyrol, where he was bound\nwith chains, and guarded by a band of men who surrounded him day and\nnight with drawn swords. In this state he remained about three months.\nMeanwhile, intelligence of his having fallen into the hands of the\nemperor had reached England, and excited the strongest sensation among\nall ranks of the people. It is sufficient to mention that during his\nabsence a struggle for supremacy had for some time been carried on with\nvarying success between the king's brother, John, and Longchamp, the\nchancellor, who had acquired the entire regency, and had also been\nappointed papal legate for England and Scotland; and that this had\nresulted, in October, 1191, in the deposition of Longchamp, by a council\nof the nobility held in St Paul's Churchyard, London; after which he\nleft the country, and although he soon ventured to return, ultimately\ndeemed it most prudent to retire to Normandy. The supreme authority was\nthus left for a time in the hands of John, who, as soon as he learned\nthe news of his brother's captivity, openly repaired to Paris, and did\nhomage to the French king for the English dominions on the Continent.\n\n[Illustration: Richard Coeur de Lion.]\n\nOn returning to England, John raised an army to support his pretensions,\nwhile his confederate, Philip, took up arms in his behalf in France,\nand, entering Normandy, overran a great part of that duchy, although\nRouen, the capital, was preserved principally by the exertions of the\nEarl of Essex, lately one of Richard's companions in the Holy Land. In\nEngland, also, John met with a general opposition to his usurpation of\nthe regal authority, which soon compelled him to conclude an armistice\nwith a council of regency that had been appointed by the prelates and\nbarons. This was the position of affairs when Longchamp, having\ndiscovered Richard's place of confinement, after much solicitation\nprevailed upon the emperor to allow the royal prisoner to be brought\nbefore the diet at Hagenau, where, accordingly, he made his appearance\non April 13, 1193, and defended himself with so much eloquence against\nthe several charges made against him in regard to Tancred and the\nkingdom of Sicily, to his conquest of Cyprus, and to the murder of\nConrad of Montferrat, that Henry found himself compelled by the general\nsentiment of the diet to order his chains to be immediately struck off,\nand to agree to enter upon negotiations for his ransom. Longchamp was\nimmediately despatched to England with a letter to the council of\nregency, and the result was, that, notwithstanding the insidious efforts\nboth of John and his friend, Philip of France, to prevent the\nconclusion of the treaty, Richard was at last liberated, on February 4,\n1194, after seventy thousand marks had been actually paid to the\nemperor, and hostages given for the payment of thirty thousand more. The\nEnglish king had also engaged to release both Isaac of Cyprus and his\ndaughter, and he had besides, at the persuasion, it is said, of his\nmother, Eleanor, the more effectually to conciliate Henry, formally\nresigned his crown into the hand of the emperor, who immediately\nrestored it to him to be held as a fief of the empire, and burdened with\na yearly feudal payment to his superior lord of five thousand pounds.\nThis strange transaction rests on the authority of the contemporary\nannalist Hoveden. Richard, descending the Rhine as far as Cologne,\nproceeded thence across the country to Antwerp, and, embarking there on\nboard his own fleet, landed at Sandwich on March 13th.\n\nMost of John's strongholds had been wrested from his hands before his\nbrother's return, and now the rest immediately surrendered and he\nhimself fled the country, and with his principal adviser, Hugh, Bishop\nof Coventry, having been charged with high treason, and not appearing to\nplead after forty days, was outlawed and divested of all his\npossessions.\n\nMeanwhile it was thought necessary that Richard should be crowned again,\nand that ceremony was accordingly performed at Winchester by Hubert,\nArchbishop of Canterbury, on April 17th. Then, leaving Hubert guardian\nof England and grand justiciary, on May 2d, following, having, with his\ncharacteristic activity employed almost every moment since his arrival\nin raising an army and procuring funds for its maintenance by all sorts\nof exactions and the most unscrupulous use of every means in his power,\nhe again set sail from Portsmouth, his whole soul bent on chastising the\nKing of France. Owing to adverse winds he was a fortnight in reaching\nBarfleur, in Normandy, where, as soon as he landed, he was met by his\nbrother John, who professed contrition and implored his pardon, which,\non the intercession of his mother, Eleanor, was granted. Richard now\nmarched against Philip, and several engagements took place between them,\nin most of which the English king was successful. But the war, though it\nlasted for some years, was distinguished by few remarkable events. A\ntruce for one year was agreed to on July 23d, and although hostilities\nwere resumed some time before the expiration of that term, a peace was\nagain concluded in the end of the following year, which lasted till the\nbeginning of 1197.\n\nAll this time Hubert, assisted by Longchamp, who had been restored to\nhis office of chancellor, is said to have presided over the government\nat home with great ability. Hubert had been educated under the famous\nGlanvil, and he seems, in the spirit of his master, to have exerted\nhimself in re-establishing and maintaining the authority of the law, by\nwhich alone, even if he did no more, he must have materially contributed\nto the revival of industry. The large sums, however, which he was\nobliged to raise by taxation to meet the expenses of the war, in the\nexhausted state to which the country had been reduced provoked much\npopular dissatisfaction; and the third year of the king's absence in\nparticular was distinguished by the remarkable commotion excited by\nWilliam Fitz-Osbert, styled Longbeard, a citizen of London, who is\nadmitted to have possessed both eloquence and learning, and whose whole\ncharacter and proceedings might not improbably, if he had had his own\nhistorian, have assumed a very different complexion from what has been\ngiven to him. Longbeard, who acquired the names of the Advocate and King\nof the Poor, is affirmed to have had above fifty thousand of the lower\norders associated with him by oaths which bound them to follow\nwhithersoever he led. When an attempt was made to apprehend him by two\nof the wealthier citizens, he drew his knife and stabbed one of them,\nnamed Geoffrey, to the heart, and then took refuge in the church of St\nMary-le-Bow in Cheapside, the tower of which he and his followers\nfortified, and held for three days, when they were at last (April 7,\n1196), dislodged by fire being set to the building. Fitz-Osbert was\nfirst dragged at a horse's tail to the Tower, and then to the Elms in\nWest Smithfield, where he was hanged, with nine of his followers. The\npeople, however, long continued to regard him as a martyr.\n\nThe war between Richard and Philip broke out again in 1197, and in the\ncourse of this campaign Richard had the gratification of capturing the\nBishop of Beauvais, a personage whom he had reason to regard as a main\ninstigator of the severities and indignities which he had sustained at\nthe hands of the emperor. The bishop was taken armed cap-a-pie and\nfighting, and when Pope Celestine recommended him to the clemency of\nRichard as his son, the English king sent his holiness the bishop's coat\nof mail, with the following verse of Scripture attached to it: \"This\nhave we found; know now whether it be thy son's coat, or no.\" This same\nyear, too, finished the career of the Emperor Henry, who, in his last\nmoments, is said to have expressed the extremest remorse for the manner\nin which he had treated the great champion of the Cross. Richard's other\nenemy, Leopold, Duke of Austria, had been killed by a fall from his\nhorse two years before.\n\nA truce, as usual, at the end of the year, again suspended hostilities\nfor a space. The war was renewed on its termination, and in this\ncampaign (of the year 1198) Richard gained one of his greatest victories\nnear Gisors, when Philip in his flight fell into the river Epte, and was\nnearly drowned. After this, by the intercession of the Pope's legate, a\ntruce was concluded between the two kings for five years, and they never\nmet again in fight; although they probably would, notwithstanding the\ntruce, if both had lived. But on March 26th in the following year, 1199,\nas Richard was engaged in reducing the castle of Chaluz, the stronghold\nof one of his Aquitanian vassals, Vidomar, Viscount of Limoges, who it\nseems had refused to surrender a treasure found on his estate, to which\nthe king laid claim in right of his feudal superiority, Coeur de Lion\nwas struck in the left shoulder by an arrow, aimed from the rampart of\nthe castle by a youth named Bertrand de Gurdun. The wound would not have\nbeen dangerous but for the mismanagement of the surgeon in his attempts\nto extract the arrow-head, which had broken off in the flesh. As it was,\nRichard lived only till Tuesday, April 16th. The shot was a fatal one in\nevery way; in the fury into which the wound of the king threw the\nbesieging army the castle was taken by storm, and all the persons found\nin it were immediately hanged, as some authorities say, by the king's\norders, with the exception only of Gurdun. He was brought into the\npresence of his dying victim, when Richard, under the impulse of\ngenerosity or compunction, gave him his liberty, with a hundred\nshillings to take him home; but after the king's death he was flayed\nalive, and then hanged, by order of Marchadee, the leader of the\nBrabantine mercenaries serving in Richard's army.\n\nThe character of Richard is, of course, not to be judged without\nreference to the general manners of the age in which he lived. It is\nprobable enough that there was hardly an excess, either of violence or\nlicentiousness, into which his impetuous temperament did not\noccasionally precipitate him; but he seems to have had nothing base or\nmalignant in his composition; and that he was as capable of acts of\nextraordinary generosity and disinterestedness as of excesses of brutal\nfury or profligacy. Of the courage and strength of will proper to his\nrace, he had his full share, with more than his share of their strength\nof thew and sinew; and his intellectual powers, both natural and\nacquired, were also of a high order. He was renowned in his own day not\nonly as beyond all dispute the stoutest and most gallant of living\nheroes, but as likewise occupying a place in the foremost rank of those\nwho excelled in wit, in eloquence, and in song.\n\n\n\n\nST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI[6]\n\n         [Footnote 6: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess.]\n\nBy GEORGE PARSONS LATHROP, LL.D.\n\n(1182-1226)\n\n[Illustration: St. Francis of Assisi.]\n\n\nOne reason why those beings who are known to us as saints are so little\nunderstood is, that their lives are usually written in one of two ways,\nboth equally unsuited to popular appreciation. Either they are presented\nin a dry, bare, matter-of-fact manner, which requires all the knowledge\nand sympathy of the initiated to give it vital meaning; or else they are\nsurrounded with an appanage of portents, visions, miracles,\nlegends--spread before the reader without discrimination or\nexplanation--which confuse the mind and soul, and absolutely repel all\nwho do not share the faith of the subject and the biographer.\n\nAs a matter of fact, no Catholic is obliged to accept these legends and\ntraditions literally, except in those cases where the authorities of\nthe Church, after a scrutiny, which is always deliberate and searching,\ndeclare that a miracle was wrought. But every Catholic, by the very\nnature of his belief in the actual presence of the Divinity among men,\nmust acknowledge and maintain that miracles have been wrought by that\nsupernatural power constantly, ever since apostolic times; that they may\nand do occur, through the same power, at any moment to-day; and always\nwill occur. In the ordinary gossip of the world, men hold to the maxim\nthat if reports are current, all pointing to one particular fact, there\nmust be truth in them. \"Where there is so much smoke there is sure to be\nsome fire.\" We should at least accord the same, if not a greater, degree\nof probability and of credence to stories of the saints which have been\ncarefully, competently examined. \"The love of the marvellous,\" says\nChavin de Malin, in his book on St. Francis, \"is but a remnant of our\noriginal greatness. Man was created to contemplate the wonders of the\nDivinity; and, until he clearly beholds them, he is borne onward by an\ninterior desire to love and admire everything which bears the slightest\nresemblance to them.... _A person utterly ignorant of the practices of a\nspiritual life can no more do justice to the life of a saint, than a\nblind man could adjudicate on the merits or demerits of a painting._\" He\nadds that, with regard to the religious occupations of the Middle Ages,\n\"the positive bounds of history could not be kept, digressions were made\non all sides, and thus around the true history of saints, like a poetic\nwreath, wonder and amazement were both entwined. Christianity has had\nits denominated legendary tales, which invariably are based on truth,\nand should not be rejected by the historian without serious reflection\nand profound study.\"\n\nThere is still another way of regarding the saints; the purely material\nview, which denies the immediate action of supernatural power upon the\ndetails of natural daily life, mental or physical. This view--or rather,\nthis abstention from seeing--is futile; because, without a particle of\nactual proof to sustain its negative, it refuses to admit possibilities\nof truth to which the really comprehensive and perceptive mind must\nalways hold itself open.\n\nSaint Francis was born at Assisi, in Umbria, in 1182; near the close of\nthe twelfth century, which has been called a \"century of mud and blood,\nwhen darkness prevailed over light, evil over good, the flesh over the\nspirit.\" Umbria was then, as it is now, a beautiful and fertile valley,\nrich in citron, almond, aloe, with forest trees of oak and pine and fir,\nto which long cultivation has added grapevines, engarlanding the elms,\nand orchards of the pale-leaved olive-tree, that give the landscape a\nsomewhat transparent, aerial effect. The province is encircled on one\nhand by the yellow Tiber; on the other, by the bluish foot-hills of the\nApennines; and it is full of ancient little towns, nestled in the vales,\nor perched upon the airy hill-crests, with crenelated towers and\nterraces which command far-reaching and inspiring views. Old Perugia\nguards the northern entrance to this exquisite region; and five leagues\nto the northeast of that town is the saint's birthplace, Assisi.\n\nHis father was Peter Bernard of Moriconi, better known as \"Bernardone,\"\na rich merchant who carried on extensive business with France. In those\ndays Italian merchants maintained a lavish mode of life, resembling that\nof the nobles; and as the disorders of the period and the perils\nattending travel compelled them to send armed escorts with their convoys\nof merchandise, there was something of military daring and display\nmingled with their business and their surroundings. The wife of\nBernardone, however, whose name was Pica (of the noble Bourlemont family\nof Provence), was remarkable for her piety; the son--in this, as in so\nmany historic instances of genius or distinction--inheriting his rare\nquality from the mother's side. She had but one other child, a younger\nson, Angelo, who, notwithstanding his heavenly name, seems to have been\na boy after Bernardone's own pattern; since he, later on, reviled\nFrancis and called him a fool for his piety and self-renunciation.\nAngelo's descendants were still living in Assisi in the latter half of\nthe sixteenth century. Whether they shared their ancestor's contemptuous\nopinion of the Saint has not been recorded; but it seems probable that\nthe homage of the world, rendered to the poor ascetic for several\ncenturies, may have made some impression on their minds, if not their\nsouls.\n\nJust before the birth of Francis, his mother suffered greatly. A\npilgrim, coming to the house for alms, told the servants: \"The mother\nwill be delivered only in a stable, and the child see the light upon\nstraw.\" This appeared strange and unreasonable enough. Nevertheless his\nadvice was followed. Pica was carried to the stable, and there she gave\nbirth to her first son, whom she caused to be baptized John, after the\nbeloved apostle of Jesus. Her husband, Bernardone, was absent at the\ntime on a business tour in France. Upon his return, he was delighted at\nfinding that he had a boy; and he insisted on giving him the surname\nFrancis, in commemoration of that country with which he drove such a\nflourishing trade. Possibly he was also moved by the thought--albeit the\nchroniclers do not say so--that his wife's family came from Southern\nFrance. At all events, Francis was the name by which the son came to be\nknown throughout his life and in history.\n\nUnder priestly teachers he received an education which, for that time,\nwas a fairly good one, in Latin, French, and literature. At the age of\nfourteen his father took him into partnership; and for ten years the\nyoung man bought and sold with him, or travelled for him. But while\nBernardone was a hard, avaricious man, the son differed from him greatly\nin disposition; being fond of dress, of song, and feasting, gayety, and\ngaming. He was generous even to prodigality, full of wit and\nimagination, very sympathetic withal, and compassionate. Thomas of\nCelano thus describes him: \"His figure was above the middle height and\nwell set. He was thin, and of a very delicate constitution. He had an\noval face, broad brow, white, close-set teeth, dark complexion, black\nhair, regular features, expressive countenance, rosy lips, and a\ncharming smile.\" With all his roystering, dissipation, and extravagance,\nhowever, he was a foe to immorality, always rebuked impurity in severe\nterms, and kept his own purity intact. This lavish and somewhat reckless\npursuit of other pleasures gave his parents much anxiety; although his\nmother, Pica, said in his defence, \"I see in him, even in his\namusements, a nobility of character which gives me the highest hopes of\nhis future.\" But up to his twenty-fourth year nothing seemed more\nunlikely than that he should have any vocation to a holy life. He was\ncalled the \"flower of the youth\" of Assisi, rejoiced in his gay\nleadership of the rich young men of the place, and dreamed of winning\nmilitary glory.\n\nIn this capacity of taking the lead, and in the confident belief he\noften expressed that he would one day receive honor from the world, we\nsee one natural germ of his later spiritual eminence. Another and more\npotent germ was the love of the poor, and his pity for them, which he\nmanifested from childhood. In 1201, taking part as a soldier in a brief\nwar between Assisi and Perugia, he was captured, with several of his\ncompanions, and imprisoned for a year. This experience, his first touch\nof adversity, sobered him a little; opening his eyes to the contrast\nbetween prosperity, with idle amusement and flattery, on the one hand,\nand on the other, suffering. Soon after his return home, also, he was\nstricken down by a long and painful illness. When he rose from it and,\nas a convalescent, took his first walk into the country, he was\nastonished to find that the beautiful Umbrian landscape which he had\nalways so enjoyed, seemed to him cold, discolored, and sombre. A natural\neffect of illness, one may say. Yet it more often happens that when a\nconvalescent returns to fresh air and the beauty of the earth, his\npleasure in them is heightened. At all events Francis was vividly\nimpressed with the nothingness of nature, as compared with the eternal\nsplendor of God. But presently the passion for warlike renown took\npossession of him again. In 1206 he volunteered to join the Count of\nBrienne, a Guelph champion of Italian national independence, who was\ndefending the Two Sicilies against the attacks of the German emperor,\nFrederick II. Announcing to his friends that he was about to become a\ngreat captain, Francis set out for the field of war, richly apparelled\nand with a brilliant retinue.\n\nIn truth he was shortly to become a great captain, though not as he\nexpected, in war, but in peace. On the way to Spoleto, southward, a\nvoice that seemed to come from heaven sounded in his ears; just as Saul\nwas appealed to while on his way to Damascus and was converted by it\ninto _St. Paul_. To the young Umbrian, half asleep, the voice said:\n\"Francis, which can do thee most good; the master or the servant, the\nrich one or the pauper?\" He replied: \"The master and the rich one.\" And\nthe voice resumed: \"Why, then, leavest thou God, who is both rich and\nthe Master, to run after man, who is only the servant and the pauper?\"\nThen Francis cried: \"Ah, Lord; what willest Thou I should do?\" \"Go,\"\nsaid the voice, \"return to thy native city, for the vision thou hast had\nhas a spiritual meaning. It is from God, not men, thou shalt receive its\naccomplishment.\"\n\nHeedless of whatever taunts might be flung at him, he turned back. But\nthe youth of Assisi, though surprised, were rejoiced to see him, and\nbegged him to preside once more at their revels. He gave them a final\nmagnificent banquet, at which they noticed that he was silent and\npreoccupied. Immediately afterward he retired to a grotto, where he\npassed his days alone, entreating God to pardon the misspent years of\nyouth and to direct him in the right way. Here he had a vision of Jesus\nChrist nailed to the cross. It is probably impossible to prove a vision;\nbut that this one was real to Francis, at least, we may judge by its\neffects. Thenceforth he devoted himself to a pious life of marvellous\nself-abnegation. Seeing the change that had come upon him, his former\nfriends fell away; but he, undisturbed, went on performing works of\ncharity; making gifts of money, food, and even his own clothes to the\npoor. Again a voice spoke to him, from the crucifix of the dilapidated\nold church of St. Damien: \"Francis, go and repair my house, which you\nsee falling into ruins!\" The young ascetic obeyed literally, and,\npassing through the streets, begged from all whom he met a stone or two\nto help rebuild the old church. Bernardone had been absent several\nmonths on one of his business trips; but his home-coming, this time, was\nnot so pleasing to him as when his boy had been born. For, seeing the\nyoung man's complete transformation, all his selfish love of him turned\ninto rage. He imprisoned him for a while in his own house; but Pica,\nrecognizing that it was useless to oppose her son's religious vocation,\nfinally set him free, and Francis took refuge in St. Damien's church.\nHis father pursued him there, and brought before the Bishop of Assisi a\ncomplaint against him, demanding that he should give up all the money in\nhis hands. Francis not only surrendered his money, but stripped off his\nclothing and gave it to his father, saying: \"Until now I have called\nPeter Bernardone my father. Henceforth I can boldly say, 'Our Father,\nwho art in heaven,' in whom I have placed all my treasures and my\nhopes.\"\n\nThe bishop covered him with his mantle and held him clasped in his arms,\nuntil the by-standers brought Francis the cloak of a poor peasant. \"Oh,\nwhat a grand bankrupt this merchant becomes to-day!\" Bossuet wrote of\nhim, long afterward. \"Oh man worthy of being written in the book of the\nevangelical poor, and henceforward living on the capital of Providence!\"\nFrom that time Francis wore mendicant's garb and begged his food in the\nstreets.\n\nWhat did he accomplish by all this? To begin with, he succeeded in\nrebuilding three churches. But his influence was destined to be much\nmore far-reaching than that, and of a very different nature. One day,\nwhile he was supplicating in church, his brother Angelo passed near him,\nand said to a friend, scoffingly: \"Go, ask him to sell you some drops of\nhis sweat.\" \"No,\" said Francis; \"I shall not sell my sweat to men. I\nshall sell it at a higher price, to God.\" He gave his sweat, his toil,\nhis sufferings, and his renunciation to God, in exchange for the\nregeneration of men in a corrupt age.\n\nAll Europe, at that time the whole civilized world, was suffering. The\nmass of the people were the poor, who were in deep distress, ground down\nby the pride and oppressions of the barons and the rich. The country was\ndevastated by wars, large and small. The emperors of Germany were trying\nto establish their dominion over Italy and to control the Pope. The\nChurch itself, after emerging from an heroic struggle with centuries of\nbarbarism, had been obliged to accept and use the feudal system as a\nmeans of self-defence; and now the wrongs, the injustices, the\nselfishness of feudal society were beginning to exercise a corrupting\ninfluence on the exterior of the Church itself. Unselfish and holy men\nin ecclesiastical places, both high and humble, preserved the spirit and\nsanctity of Christian faith, but were not able wholly to counteract the\nevils of pride, wealth, and luxury that invaded the Church from the\nworldly side, and infected its unworthy servants. Francis perceived that\nthe only hope or relief possible to that age lay in a decisive spiritual\nrevolution, to be effected without violence, which would recall people\nto the primitive simplicity, unselfishness, and absolute devotion of the\ntime of Christ and the apostolic period. This revolution could be\naccomplished, he saw, only by a personal example so strong, so\nundeviating, so entirely free from self-seeking, that all men would be\ncompelled to pause and consider it, and then to act upon it. He\ntherefore sacrificed his whole life for the good of the race. In the end\nhe achieved his aim, single-handed, single-souled. No one who believes\nin God and in Christianity throughout, can maintain that Francis of\nAssisi brought about these results by mere unaided human power. The\nhuman element relies upon will, coercion, manoeuvre, and even intrigue.\nFrancis gave up all these means. He first served the lepers for a month,\nliving with them and taking care of them. This should especially\ninterest us to-day; since Father Damien's self-immolating life among the\nlepers of the Hawaiian Islands in recent years is so well known to us,\nand since the first refuge of Saint Francis from the world was St.\nDamien's church, in Assisi. Portiuncula, \"The Little Portion,\" was one\nof the churches which he had rebuilt, and was his favorite. While he was\nlistening to the Gospel there, one day in February, 1209, these words\nwere read from the altar: \"Do not possess gold nor silver, nor money in\nyour purses; nor scrip for your journey, nor two coats, nor shoes, nor a\nstaff.\"\n\nThat precept decided him. He saw his vocation as a devotee of holy\npoverty. Straightway he began preaching everywhere the duty of poverty\nand love of the poor; and gradually he drew to himself disciples, until\nthey numbered twelve; sometimes accosting his old friends, sometimes\nstrangers, who immediately joined him and consented to give up all\nworldly things, for the love of God. Most of them were men of rank and\nwealth, who had never known privation; yet they gave up social positions\nwhere they had been accustomed to command, accepted dire penury with him\nin a hut at Rivotorto, and submitted themselves to him in entire\nobedience. \"Bread begged from door to door is the bread of angels,\" said\nFrancis. They went barefoot, wore a coarse gray tunic with a cincture of\ncord, prayed much, helped the sick and needy, discoursed to and exhorted\nthe people, and lived on bread and water chiefly. Amid all these\nausterities they thanked God that they had been chosen to give an\nexample of perfect happiness! Their leader insisted upon incessant\nindustry and unfailing cheerfulness. \"Think of your errors in your\ncells,\" he commanded. \"Weep, kneeling before God. But before others be\ngay, and maintain an air of ease.\" At first they called themselves\nsimply \"penitents from Assisi,\" and for a time they were treated with\nridicule, scorn, and even violence. But their mission was to suffer\neverything, to rejoice at insults and injuries and, by patience, compel\nrecognition of the dignity of every human creature under whatsoever\nguise he might present himself. In this they succeeded.\n\nTo a novice he said one day, \"Brother, let us go out and preach.\" Taking\nhim along, he went up into Assisi and they walked through the streets\nwithout saying a word; then returned to the convent. \"And our preaching,\nfather?\" asked the novice. \"It is done,\" replied the Saint; implying\nthat a modest, thoughtful exterior and the force of example are often\nthe most eloquent kind of preaching. But in 1209 it became clear to him\nby an inward vision in which the Christ came to him as a shepherd, that\ngreat numbers would flock to follow him; and, though he had not thought\nof founding an Order, he now saw that it would be necessary. He\ntherefore drew up a simple Rule in twenty-three chapters; the gist of\nwhich was that they were to possess no money, no property whatever; that\nthey were neither to blame nor to judge any one; were to hold themselves\nprofoundly respectful toward all members of the clergy; to say not a\nword against the rich or against luxury; to preach, everywhere, concord\nand the love of God and one's neighbor; to bind themselves to obedience\nand chastity, as well as poverty; to do penance and persist in the\nperfect faith of Christ. Not until sixteen years later did the Lateran\nCouncil ordain that all religious orders must receive the approval of\nthe Holy Father. But Francis did not wait for decrees. His humility,\nobedience, and loyalty to the Vicar of Christ led him to repair to Rome\nwith his companions and there ask the permission of Pope Innocent III.,\nwhich he quickly obtained. The Rule was rewritten in 1619. Some of the\nbrethren suggested that he take the advice of a cardinal in formulating\nhis rules; but the Saint declared that God had willed that he should\n\"appear as a new sort of madman in the world,\" arresting the attention\nof the people and bringing them to reflect, without qualification, upon\n\"the folly of the cross,\" and that he alone must direct the manner in\nwhich this was to be done.\n\n[Illustration: The Vision of St Francis.]\n\nHis order multiplied rapidly, and convents were established in all parts\nof Europe; although he was inclined to object to costly buildings, and\nwas prevailed upon to let them stand on the plea that they were needed\nto shelter travellers and pilgrims. He established also the order of\nPoor Clares, so called from a noble maiden, Clare, who became its first\nsuperior. This was, for women, what his order of the Friars Minor was\nfor men; though the Clares remained strictly enclosed, while the Friars\nwent abroad preaching, and established missions in various quarters of\nthe globe. Finally, he formed his Third Order, which included laymen and\nlaywomen living in the world, who bound themselves by simple vows of\nvirtue and charity, while continuing in their accustomed phase of life.\nThousands joined the Friars; and probably millions were enrolled in the\nThird Order. It has been said that Francis first made known to the\nMiddle Ages the power of association among the weak and humble, and that\nfrom the pages on which he inscribed his institutes sprang modern\ndemocracy in Italy. Certain it is that the Emperor Frederick II.\nreceived a letter from some of his Italian feudal supporters, saying:\n\"The Friars Minor ... have raised themselves against us. They have\npublicly condemned both our mode of life and our principles, they have\nshattered our rights, and have brought us to nothingness.\" Yet the\nFranciscan Friars and the Third Order had done this only by the contrast\nof example, of poverty, fasting, prayer, self-denial, and charity of the\nheart as well as of the hands.\n\nThe work of Saint Francis did much to undermine feudalism; and it almost\nregenerated the spirit of Christianity in the thirteenth century. \"Man\nof the people,\" writes R. F. O'Connor, \"he did more for the people than\never yet had been done by any one; whose vocation was to revive in the\nmidst of a corrupting opulence the esteem and practice of poverty, which\nhe ennobled, ... and, without setting class against class, _or violating\nthe least point of the divine or human law_, levelled every social\nbarrier and united princes and peasants in a bond of union which neither\ntime nor eternity was to sever.\"\n\nThis phase of his influence should interest us of to-day, when the same\nproblems of wealth and poverty and of superficiality in religion\nconfront our arrogant modern \"civilization.\" That St. Francis was not a\nmadman is evident from the orderliness of his work, his clear\nlegislative and administrative capacity, his calm, powerful, amiable\nsway over all sorts of people. Yet he was possessed by an absolute\npassion and ecstasy of charity and universal love, which raised him\nabove the apprehension of the gross, material mind. It was this\nsupremacy of the spiritual in him which enabled him to accomplish\nmarvels of practical result. Toward the end of his life, this exaltation\nof the spirit produced upon his body a singular phenomenon. His hands\nand feet appeared to be transpierced by large nails, and a wound opened\nin his side, from which blood frequently flowed. In a word, he bore the\nwounds, or \"stigmata\" of Christ, on his own body. The nails were\ndistinct from the wound, but were apparently blackened flesh; being\ninseparable from the hands and feet. This phenomenon was well attested\nat the time. Within the present century several similar cases have\noccurred, under the observation of modern and approved sceptical men of\nscience, who find that they occur when there has been much fasting, loss\nof sleep, and constant meditation upon the Passion of Christ. Their\ntestimony states the conditions and verifies the fact, but does not\nexplain it.\n\nHe died at his convent of St. Mary of the Angels (Portiuncula), October\n4, 1226, in perfect lucidity of mind, with patience and simple\nresignation, while giving good counsel to his brethren. Of death he\nspoke gently as \"our sister death;\" and when, during his illness, his\nphysician was obliged to cauterize him with a red-hot iron, he blessed\nthe iron, speaking of it as \"our brother fire,\" and submitted to the\ncauterization, or moxa, without a murmur or sign of pain. One remarkable\nthing about him was his extraordinary recognition of all the powers and\nelements of nature as related to man in one family under God. This was\nthe origin of his famous short \"sermon to the birds,\" which has been\npreserved. He talked to them and to all other animals as though he\nfirmly believed that they could understand him, and could adore their\nCreator as well as he; though it is not probable that he supposed they\nwould understand him precisely as men would, or adore in the same way.\nIt is clear that St. Francis had a great influence over animals, even\nover wolves.\n\nNowadays we have many lion-tamers and tiger-tamers, who rely simply upon\nhuman will and craft. Therefore it is not astonishing that St. Francis,\nwho relied upon Divine power, should have been able to tame beasts. What\nis surprising is, that he should have been able to control men, who are\nso much harder to tame.\n\nThe poems of St. Francis--his \"Canticle of the Sun,\" \"Canticle of Love,\"\nand \"Canticle of Charity\"--exemplify the immense and tender scope of his\nexquisite love and good-will. His Order continues, and has given rise to\nsubsidiary organizations such as the Recollects and the Capuchins.\nThousands of people in common life belong to his Third Order, now, and\ncontinue his work unostentatiously. His spirit is alive and operative in\nthe world to-day, nearly six hundred and seventy years since he left\nthis earth.\n\n[Signature: George Parsons Lathrop.]\n\n\n\n\nST. LOUIS\n\nBy HENRY G. HEWLETT\n\n(1215-1270)\n\n[Illustration: St. Louis.]\n\n\nThe most striking features of the political history of France during the\ntenth and eleventh centuries are the conflict of the feudal aristocracy\non the one hand, with monarchical and democratical power on the other,\nand the influence exerted by the Crusades on both.\n\n[Illustration: The Education of Louis IX.]\n\nThe Crusades aided much in the accomplishment of the final result, the\ndestruction of the power of the nobility. In the first place, they\nglorified the character of feudalism by enforcing the principles of\nchivalry. To be a \"true knight,\" a man must be devout, just, merciful,\nand pure. Many Crusaders, indeed, fell far short of this high ideal; but\nthere can be no doubt that, on the whole, it elevated the standard of\nmorality, and checked the rampant tyranny which had previously\nprevailed. Founded on a principle of sincere though mistaken piety, the\nCrusaders recognized all who took the cross as brethren; hence the\nmeanest serf became, in some measure, free; and the same benign\nsentiment extended its effect to all classes. The attraction of a common\ncause in foreign lands further contributed to wean the Crusaders from\nthe class quarrels and domestic feuds which occupied them at home.\nDuring their absence the crown was enabled to acquire a strength which\nhad previously been spent in the repression of constant rebellions. And\nthe need of money for the expedition obliged many feudal lords to\ncontract with the communes for the sale of lands or liberties.\n\nSuch was the condition of France at the commencement of the thirteenth\ncentury. The balance of power, however, was only sustained by the\nactivity of all the parties concerned. The slightest wavering on the\npart of the crown would be fatal, the least opportunity seized. A wise,\nsincere, and humane ruler was needed to confirm and enlarge the vantage\nground which law and order had already obtained; and such a ruler rose\nin the person of Louis IX., who ascended the throne in 1226.\n\nHis father, Louis VIII., was a man of weak character, whose reign was\nchiefly signalized by the horrible persecution of the Protestant\nAlbigenses of Provence, which, under the sanction of Innocent III., and\nlater Popes, had been carried on by Simon de Montfort and other\nfanatics, since 1209. Louis himself had died of fever when about to\ncommence the siege of Toulouse.\n\nThe Queen Dowager, Blanche, of Castile, was a woman of great energy, and\nduring the minority of her son she bravely contested her claims to the\nregency of the kingdom against those of Philip, her husband's brother,\nwhom Henry III., of England, supported. She appealed, not in vain, to\nthe gratitude of the metropolis, which the Capetian kings had\nbefriended; and at her call a large force of citizens joined her. With\ntheir aid she defeated Philip and other nobles, who opposed her son's\ncoronation, and by two treaties, in 1229 and 1231, she both extended the\nlimits of her kingdom and put an end to civil war. Over Louis, who was\nbut eleven years old when his father died, she exercised a somewhat\nrigorous, but a holy and prudent discipline, to which he was much\nindebted for strengthening his moral and mental constitution. He was\neducated at the Abbey of Royaumont by Vincent de Beauvais, and though\nnot remarkable for talents, possessed considerable decision of\ncharacter, and a large share of personal courage. It is, however, by the\npiety, purity, and benevolence of his soul that he stands forth so\nprominently in the history of Europe. The year of his coronation all the\njails of the kingdom were thrown open by the royal command. A nature\nmore truly loving and lovable has rarely been bestowed on any member of\nthe human family. Yet, with all these paramount excellences, his life\npresents a tragedy--the fatal consequences of unreasoning faith. All his\nerrors--we cannot justly call them faults--proceeded from this prolific\nsource. Before recording these, it will be gratifying to point out the\nhappier results of those noble and wise qualities which have consecrated\nhis name.\n\nAfter the treaty of 1231, France remained at peace for some years,\nduring which time Louis married Margaret of Provence, a princess only\ninferior in worth to himself. Soon after attaining his majority he was\ncalled upon to contend with the Count of Brittany and other nobles who\nresisted his authority. At the head of his vassals Louis marched against\nthe rebels, and was so prompt and energetic in his measures that the\ncount was forced to yield and sue for pardon in the attitude of a\ncriminal, with a rope round his neck. Henry III. crossed the channel\nwith an army to support the rebellion, and recover, if possible, the\npossessions which King John had surrendered to King Philip. The armies\nmet at Saintes, in 1242, where the French were victorious, the rebels\nsubsequently submitting, and Henry returning home.\n\nIn 1244 Louis had a severe illness, which was attended with danger to\nhis life. During the progress of it, he vowed to undertake a new crusade\nshould he recover. The fulfilment of this vow was opposed by Blanche of\nCastile (who still had great influence over her son) and many of his\nbest counsellors; but Louis was inflexible where religion and honor\ndemanded a sacrifice.\n\nIn 1248 he collected a large army, and prepared to start by way of\nSicily, the nearest route to Palestine, when he remembered that the\nisland belonged to Frederick II., of Germany, who was under\nexcommunication by the Pope. All attempts to shake the decision of\nInnocent IV. failed; and yielding to the pious weakness of fearing to\nrest in an excommunicant's territory, Louis changed his plans, and\ndetermined to pass by way of Cyprus and Egypt--a route which proved the\nruin of the expedition. He committed the regency of France to his\nmother, assumed the staff of pilgrimage, and accompanied by his wife and\nbrothers, left Paris on June 12, 1248. He stayed for several months in\nCyprus, until his armament amounted to 50,000 men, and then sailed for\nEgypt.\n\nArrived at the port of Damietta, he caused the oriflamme (the national\nstandard of France) to be waved above his head; and, arrayed in complete\narmor, he unsheathed his sword, and leaped into the sea, followed by the\nknights. The inhabitants fled, and the French took possession of the\ncity. The inundation of the Nile prevented their further movements for\nseveral months. Licentiousness and disease were fostered by this delay,\nin spite of the king's remonstrances; and their unopposed success made\nthe Crusaders careless as to the tactics of the enemy.\n\nOn the subsidence of the Nile, Louis fortified Damietta, and left his\nqueen and her ladies there, while he, with the main army, advanced on\nCairo, the metropolis of Egypt, where the sultan resided. Near\nMansourah, the Crusaders became perplexed by the intricacy of the\ncanals, and a hasty dash across one of these, made by the king's\nbrother, the Count of Artois, with 2,000 men, led to a calamitous\nresult. Mansourah was apparently deserted, and the count's troops, who\npreceded their comrades at some distance, commenced pillaging the\nhouses. The inhabitants, who were only concealed, showered down stones\nfrom the roofs; and at the same moment, a large body of the sultan's\narmy made an attack in front. Louis reached Mansourah in time to save a\nfew of his men, but found his brother and several others slain. The\nMoslem camp was captured, but proved a doubtful prize. The plains were\nbarren and scorching, and the harassing assaults of the Egyptians, who\npoured \"Greek fire\" (missiles filled with combustible materials) on\ntheir foes, rendered the situation more intolerable still. Pestilence\nbroke out, and the king himself fell dangerously ill. He then ordered a\nretreat to Damietta, whither the sick were to be conveyed in galleys.\nThese were intercepted, and the sick murdered by the Egyptians; while,\nat the same time an attack was made on the Christian camp.\n\n[Illustration: St. Louis.]\n\nLouis was so weak that he could scarcely ride, but nevertheless would\nnot desert his post. He rode between the ranks, encouraging his men,\ntill he fainted and was obliged to withdraw from the field. His quaint\nand affectionate biographer, the Lord of Joinville, who was with him in\nthis expedition, thus describes the scenes which ensued: \"Of all his\nmen-at-arms there was only one with him, the good knight, Sir Geoffrey\nde Sargines; and who, I heard say, did defend him like as a faithful\nservant doth guard his master's cup from flies--for every time that the\nSaracens did approach the king he defended him with vigorous strokes of\nthe blade and point of his sword, and his strength seemed doubled. At\nlast he brought the king to a house where there was a woman from Paris;\nand laying him on the ground, placed his head on the woman's lap,\nexpecting every moment that he would breathe his last.\" In this\nhalf-dying condition a body of Egyptians found him, and bore him to the\ntent of the sultan. The defeat of the Christians, who were weakened by\nthe climate, disease, and want of food, was general; many fell by the\nsword, and the rest were taken prisoners with their king.\n\nIn captivity Louis showed a noble resignation and courage amid the\napostasy of many. He won the respect of the sultan, who treated him with\ngenerosity, and listened to the terms of ransom which he proposed. The\nqueen remained at Damietta, which was strongly garrisoned. Fearful,\nnevertheless, of falling into the hands of the Moslems, who would have\ncarried her into the sultan's harem, she prayed an old knight in her\nsuite to slay her with his sword, should there be any danger of that\nevent. \"I had determined on so doing, madam,\" was the answer. Margaret's\nheroism was not put to this severe test, for the surrender of Damietta\nwas one of the conditions of her husband's release; and after paying in\naddition a sum of 400,000 livres, Louis was on the point of being set\nfree. An insurrection, however, suddenly arose among the Mamelukes, or\nTartarian troops, in whose hands the real power of the state was placed,\nand the sultan was murdered. A party of the assassins, it is said,\nentered the chamber of Louis with their scimitars drawn, but his calm\ndignity saved him, and the treaty was carried out by the new sultan.\n\nMany of the French nobles returned home, but the king, faithful to his\nvow, proceeded to Syria, and spent four years in strengthening the\nfortresses of Tyre and other Christian towns, redeeming many Crusaders\nfrom slavery, and reducing to order the disturbed condition of the\ncountry.\n\nThe death of the Queen Dowager Blanche, who had governed France wisely\nduring her regency, recalled him in 1254, after an absence of six years.\nHe still wore the cross upon his shoulder, as a token that his oath as a\nCrusader was not yet fulfilled; but he never once neglected the more\npressing and necessary duties which devolved on him as a monarch. His\nimmediate work was to supersede the arbitrary legislation which the\nnobles exercised in their manorial courts over their tenants. He\naccordingly introduced into general use the famous code of Roman laws\nknown as the Pandects of Justinian, and constituted the chief civil\nlawyers, who had studied its contents and were best acquainted with its\nprinciples, into a Parliament, or Court of Justice. The nobles and the\nclergy were duly represented in this assembly; but its clerks, or\nlawyers, were especially favored by the king, who seconded their own\nefforts to absorb the business of the court as much as possible. Louis\nfurther mediated between the tyranny of the nobles and the weakness of\ntheir tenants, by encouraging the practice of appealing to the crown in\ncase of injustice. This he even extended to ecclesiastical matters; a\nbold step for one so devoted to the Church. The prohibition of the\nbarbarous custom of duelling to decide personal quarrels was another of\nhis humane laws. These, and divers other ordinances, founded in a like\nspirit of equity, are known in a collected shape as the _Institutes of\nSt. Louis_. His enactment touching appeals from the Church to the Crown,\nand the prohibition which he likewise issued against the levying of\nmoney in France for the use of the Pope without the king's license, are\nknown as a _Pragmatic Sanction_--a term applied to any especially\nimportant national decree. Louis set the example of enforcing the laws\npersonally, and none was fitter to administer them than he. Under an oak\nin the forest of Vincennes, near Paris, often sat the good king to hear\nappeals and petitions from his poor subjects. His social and foreign\nrelations were as fully attended to as his political reforms. He first\nplaced the French navy on a substantial footing. To him Paris owed a\npublic library, a hospital for the blind, and the establishment of a\nbody of police. Under his sanction, also, his confessor, Robert de\nSorbon, founded the famous theological college called by his name. So\nscrupulously just and honorable was Louis, that he appointed a\ncommission to ascertain what restitution of territory should be made to\nnations which had been mulcted by the conquests of his predecessors, and\nhe thus more than once sacrificed extensive possessions for the sake of\na principle. By a treaty in 1255, made with Henry III., Louis restored\nto the English crown the provinces of which Philip Augustus had deprived\nit, and obtained in return the surrender of Henry's rights in Normandy\nand other fiefs. The reputation which Louis thus acquired among his\nfellow-monarchs led to his being asked to act as mediator in several\nquarrels, and gave him many opportunities of exhibiting his peaceful and\nloving policy.\n\n[Illustration: Louis IX. opens the Jails of France.]\n\nThe mental blindness of which we have spoken led him to commit errors,\nwhich, if his misled conscience had not sanctioned them, would deserve\nthe name of crimes. Toward Jews and heretics he showed no mercy,\nissuing severe and unjust laws against them \"for the good of his soul.\"\nThe duty of the historian is to record these failings of a noble nature\nas impartially as its beauties; but the evil must, in all fairness, be\ncredited to the Church and system which taught, and not to the believer\nwho practised.\n\nIn 1270 the affairs of the East again attracted the attention of Europe,\nand recalled Louis to the fulfilment of his vow, which he had only\npostponed. The Greeks had retaken the city of Constantinople from the\nFrench and Venetian Crusaders some years previously, yet the\nreconstitution of the Christian Empire of the East had not availed to\ncheck the aggressions of the Moslem in Palestine. Benocdar, the Sultan\nof Egypt, had already taken Caesarea and Jaffa; and news now came that\nAntioch had fallen, 100,000 Christians having been massacred in the\nsiege. The seventh and last Crusade was at once set on foot by outraged\nEurope, and Louis led the expedition, in which France was, as usual,\nforemost. He raised an army of 6,000 horse and 30,000 foot, and was\naccompanied by his three sons, the King of Navarre, and several nobles\nof high rank. His brother, Charles of Anjou (the new King of Naples),\nand Edward I., of England, (then prince), were to join the French in the\ncourse of the year. Some romantic intelligence that the Moslem King of\nTunis was desirous of being baptized, induced the pious Louis again to\ntry the African, instead of the Asiatic, route to Palestine. He narrowly\nescaped with his life, in a tempest which overtook the fleet in the\nMediterranean, but landed in Sardinia, and after recruiting here again\nset sail, and anchored off Carthage. He met with opposition, instead of\nwelcome, from the inhabitants of the coast, and was obliged to besiege\nTunis. The excessive heat of the climate and the unhealthiness of the\nsoil proved a second time fatal to the army. Plague at last broke out,\nand Louis was himself seized. Finding himself dying, he sent for Philip,\nhis eldest son and successor. Placing in his hand a written paper, the\ngood king prayed his son to follow the directions which it\ncontained--directions for the conduct of his life, as king and\nindividual; enforcing those principles of love to God and man which had\nguided his own career. Then, requesting to be lifted from his bed, Louis\ninstructed his attendants to strew the floor of his tent with ashes and\nplace him thereon, that he might die as he had lived, in an attitude of\nhumiliation and penitence toward his creator. This was done, and shortly\nafterward, as though in vision fulfilling the vow which he was not\npermitted to realize, he uttered, \"I will enter thy house--I will\nworship in thy sanctuary!\" and expired. His age was but fifty-four.\n\nA few hours elapsed, and the sound of a trumpet echoed through the\nplague-stricken and half-deserted camp. It was the note of Charles of\nNaples, whose fleet had just arrived off the coast. Meeting with no\nresponse, he rode rapidly toward the tent of the king, and on entering\nsaw his body lying still warm upon the ashes. The rites of burial were\nnot performed with the usual formalities, his remains being distributed\namong his relatives. The flesh was kept by Charles, who buried it, on\nhis return to Sicily, in the great Abbey of Monreale, at Palermo. The\nbones and other parts were conveyed back to France. Those who have\nvisited Paris will not forget the exquisite Gothic structure known as\nthe \"Sainte Chapelle,\" which is attached to the Palais de Justice,\ncontaining the courts of law. It was erected by Louis as a receptacle\nfor certain supposed relics of Christ. The windows of the chapel are\nentirely composed of stained glass, and as the sunbeams strike upon\nthem, their tints of crimson, blue, and orange blend into a rainbow-like\nharmony of glowing and lustrous color, which recalls the heart of Louis\nIX., enshrined within those walls, as its fitting human antitype. He was\ncanonized about thirty years afterward, under the title of St. Louis.\n\n\n\n\nMARCO POLO[7]\n\n         [Footnote 7: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess.]\n\nBy NOAH BROOKS\n\n(1256-1324)\n\n[Illustration: Marco Polo.]\n\n\nIn the month of November, in the year 1295, there appeared in the\nbeautiful city of Venice three strangers, who were clothed in an\noutlandish and shabby garb of a Tartar cut. They claimed to be of\nVenice, but, according to one of their biographers, one Ramusio,\n\"through the many worries and anxieties they had undergone, they were\nquite changed in aspect, and had got a certain indescribable smack of\nthe Tartar both in air and accent, having, indeed, all but forgotten\ntheir Venetian tongue.\" They went to the house of the Polo family,\ndemanding entrance and claiming to be Nicolo Polo, Maffeo, his brother,\nand Marco, son of the elder of the two brothers, Nicolo. They were\nlaughed to scorn as pretenders and impostors; for the three missing\nmembers of the Polo family had been gone away from Venice some\ntwenty-odd years; it was in 1271 that the Polos were last heard from,\nthen at Acre, journeying into the Far East.\n\nBut the three somehow gained access to their own house, then in the\npossession of one of their relations. And the news of their home-coming\nwas presently noised abroad throughout the city of Venice; so much so\nthat the people for days talked of little else save the reappearance in\nthe land of the living of the long-lost travellers. Many, however,\ndoubted if these really were the brothers Polo and young Marco; this\nlast was a mere lad of seventeen when he went away, and now was grown to\nbe a portly man of forty-odd years. So incredulous were the townsfolk\nthat the brothers hit upon a scheme to convince the doubting ones. They\nmade a grand feast to which all the gentry were invited, for the Polo\nfamily were of noble birth and had held station in the state. The\nentertainment was served in great splendor with gold and silver dishes,\nand the three travellers, when they sat down, were dressed in robes of\nthe richest crimson satin flowing down to the ground. After some of the\ncourses had been eaten, they retired to their chamber and came forth\nagain dressed in other robes of crimson silk damask, very rich, and the\nsatin garments were cut up and divided among the servants. Again, later\non in the repast, they retired, and when they came again to the table\nthey wore other robes, of the richest crimson velvet, and the second\ngarments were cut up and divided as the others had been. When the dinner\nwas over they took off the velvet robes, and these were disposed of in\nlike manner. \"These proceedings,\" says the honest Ramusio, \"caused much\nwonder and amazement among the guests,\" which we can well imagine.\n\nNext, dismissing all the servants, the younger one of the three, Marco\nPolo, went to an inner chamber and brought forth to the table the coarse\nand shabby dresses in which the three had arrived in Venice. Then,\ntaking sharp knives, the travellers ripped open the seams and welts of\nthe garments, and shook from them a vast profusion of diamonds, rubies,\nsapphires, carbuncles, emeralds, and other precious stones. The guests\nwere dumfounded and amazed. \"And now,\" says Ramusio, \"they recognized\nthat in spite of all former doubts, these were in truth those honored\nand worthy gentlemen of the Casa Polo that they claimed to be; and so\nall paid them the greatest honor and reverence.\" Furthermore, we are\ntold that when the story got wind in Venice, straightway the whole city,\ngentle and simple, flocked to the house to embrace the three travellers,\nand to make much of them with every conceivable demonstration of\naffection and respect.\n\nThis was the wonderful home-coming of the three Polos, who for\ntwenty-four years had been wandering in the East, and who, when they set\nout on their homeward journey, a journey beset with untold difficulties\nand dangers, took the precaution to conceal in their garments, as above\ntold, the wealth which they had accumulated while they were at the court\nof the Great Khan of Tartary. It reads like a romance, a story out of\n\"The Arabian Nights' Entertainments.\" But it is all true, and the\narchives of Venice corroborate pretty nearly all the details herein set\nforth. Indeed, as a prophet is not without honor save in his own country\nand among his own kindred, it must be said that the later generation of\nVenetians found less difficulty in believing the tales of the three\ntravellers than did those who first heard them. In telling these tales,\nthey had frequent occasion to use the word \"millions,\" a word not then\ncommon among the Venetians, as to say that the Great Khan had revenues\namounting to ten or fifteen _millions_ of gold, and so on. And the\npeople gave Marco, who seems to have been the story-teller of the party,\nthe nickname of Messer Marco Millioni. Curiously enough, this name\nappears in the public records of old Venice.\n\nOf the final exit of the elders of the Polo family, Nicolo and Maffeo,\nwe have no trustworthy account. As they were well stricken in years when\nthey returned from their long sojourn in Cathay, we may suppose that\nthey did not live long after their return to Venice. But the younger\nMarco had a busy and stirring life. At that time the republics of Venice\nand Genoa were rivals for the ruling of the seas and the monopoly of\nmaritime trade everywhere. A Venetian galley could not meet one from\nGenoa without a fight, and the fleets of the two states were continually\nat war.\n\nMarco, being one of the representatives of the noble Venetian families\nwho were required to come to the support of the state with at least one\ngalley, entered the naval service of Venice in command of a war galley,\nand was engaged in the great battle between Venice and Genoa near\nCurzola, off the Dalmatian coast, in 1298, three years after his return\nfrom Cathay. The Venetians were beaten ignominiously, and 7,000 of them\nwere taken prisoners and carried to Genoa. It was a lucky thing for the\nworld that Marco Polo was thus put into enforced idleness, and that he\nhad for a companion in confinement an educated gentleman, one\nRusticiano, of Pisa. Otherwise, most likely we never would have heard of\nthe travels of Marco Polo, whom some of the later chroniclers have\nlikened to Columbus, the discoverer of America.\n\nTo beguile the tedium of their imprisonment, Marco was wont to tell his\ntraveller's tales to his companion, Rusticiano, and this worthy\ngentleman conceived the notion of writing out the marvellous adventures\nand observations of his fellow-prisoner. We must bear in mind that the\nItalian gentry of that time did not hold in high esteem the art of\nwriting, and although Marco was not inferior to any man in daring or\nadventurousness, he was willing to leave to the scriveners the task of\nwriting about such matters. But, in the end, the advice of Rusticiano\nprevailed, and the Pisan gentleman set down from the dictation of Marco\n\"The Book of Ser Marco Polo Concerning the Kingdoms and Marvels of the\nEast.\" This was, up to that time, the most important book of travels and\nvoyages ever written. Indeed, it was the most important book of any kind\nwritten during the Middle Ages.\n\nThe book contributed more new facts toward a knowledge of the earth's\nsurface, says one skilled authority, than any book that had been written\nbefore. The writer was the first to describe China, or Cathay, in its\nvastness of territory, its wonderfully rich and populous cities, and the\nfirst to tell of Tartary, Thibet, Burmah, Siam, Cochin-China, the Indian\nArchipelago, the Andaman Islands, of Java and Sumatra, of the fabled\nisland of Cipangu, or Japan, of Hindustan, and that marvellous region\nwhich the world learned to know as Farther India. From far-voyaging\nsailors he brought home accounts of Zanzibar and Madagascar, and the\nsemi-Christian country of Abyssinia, where some accounts located that\nmysterious potentate called Prester John. He had traversed Persia and\nhad picked up a vast amount of information concerning the country of\nSiberia, with its polar snows and bears, its dog-sledges, and its almost\neverlasting winter. He traversed the entire length of Asia.\n\nSurely, Europe might well be dazed when this account of regions, until\nthen unknown, was unrolled before the scholars and explorers who could\nread the few precious books then in circulation. For it should be\nremembered that the art of printing was then unknown, and only in\nmanuscript did any book make its appearance. Rusticiano wrote in a very\npoor sort of French; for then, as now, that language was commonest in\nall the cities of Europe. How much of the language of the book of Marco\nPolo's travels was Marco's, and how much was the worthy Rusticiano's, we\nare unable to decide. The facts in that famous book were duly vouched\nfor by Marco. The opening chapter, or prologue, inflated and wordy,\nafter the fashion of the times, was undoubtedly Rusticiano's. He began\nthus: \"Great Princes, Emperors, and Kings, Dukes and Marquises, Counts,\nKnights, and Burgesses! and People of all degree who desire to get\nknowledge of the various races of mankind and of the diversities of the\nsundry regions of the World, take this Book and cause it to be read to\nyou. For ye shall find therein all kinds of wonderful things, and the\ndivers histories of the Great Hermenia, and of Persia, and of the Land\nof the Tartars, and of India, and of many another country of which our\nBook doth speak, particularly and in regular succession, according to\nthe description of Messer Marco Polo, a wise and noble citizen of\nVenice, as he saw them with his own eyes.\"\n\nThis portentous prologue ends with these great swelling words: \"And I\nmay tell you that in acquiring this knowledge he spent in those various\nparts of the World good six-and-twenty years. Now, being thereafter an\ninmate of the Prison at Genoa, he caused Messer Rusticiano, of Pisa, who\nwas in the same Prison likewise, to reduce the whole to writing; and\nthis befell in the year 1298 from the birth of Jesus.\"\n\nOne year later, in the summer of 1299, Marco Polo was set at liberty and\nreturned to Venice, where he died peacefully in 1324. His last will and\ntestament, dated January 9, 1323, is preserved among the archives of\nVenice, and a marble statue in his honor was set up by the Venetians, in\nthe seventeenth century, and may be seen unto this day in the Palazzo\nMorosini-Gattemburg, in the Campo S. Stefano of that city.\n\nHow came Marco Polo to be drawn so far into the vague and shadowy East?\nSomewhere about the middle of the thirteenth century, certain members of\nthe Polo family had established a trading-house in Constantinople, then\npretty near the end of the world from Europe. These adventurous\nVenetians, in 1260, sent the two brothers, Nicolo and Maffeo, still\nfurther to the eastward on a trading journey to the Crimea. Led on by\none adventure and another, and lured by the hope of new and greater\ngains, they ascended the Volga northward and eastward, crossed Bokhara,\nand finally broke into one of the northwestern provinces of China, or\nCathay, then faintly known in Europe by various names, the most classic\nof which was Seres.\n\nHere they made their way to the capital city of the Great Mongol Empire,\nthe seat of government where ruled the Great Khan, a very mighty\npotentate, Kublai Khan, grandson of the famous conqueror, Ghenghis Khan.\nKublai Khan resided at the wonderful city of Cambuluc, which we now know\nas Pekin. North of the Great Wall, and some one hundred and eighty miles\nfrom Cambuluc, was the Great Khan's summer palace, one of the wonders of\nthe world, reading of which in Purchas' account of Marco Polo's\ntravels, it is said that Coleridge fell asleep and dreamed the famous\npoem beginning:\n\n  \"In Xanadu did Kublai Khan\n     A stately pleasure dome decree,\n   Where Alph, the sacred river, ran,\n   Through caverns measureless to man,\n     Down to a sunless sea.\"\n\nThese Polo brothers were the first Europeans that the Great Khan had\never seen; but before this time, Friar Plano Carpini, in 1246, and Friar\nWilliam Rubruquis, in 1253, had penetrated into Mongolia on some errand\nnot now distinctly understood, but far enough to learn that a great and\ncivilized country existed somewhere in the eastern extremity of Asia.\nThey also learned that beyond this extremity of the continent there was\na sea; people had until then believed that the eastern end of Asia\ndisappeared in a vast and reedy bog, beyond which was deep and\nimpenetrable darkness. More exact knowledge of that far eastern sea was\nsubsequently acquired by the Venetian travellers. From these wandering\nfriars the Great Khan had heard, at second-hand, doubtless, of European\nprinces, potentates, and powers, and of the Pope of Rome.\n\nHe was mightily taken with the noble Venetians, and we are told that he\ntreated them with every courtesy and consideration. He was anxious to\nsecure through them the aid of the Sovereign Pontiff, of whose functions\nhe entertained high respect, in the civilizing of the hordes that had\nlately been added to the Mongol Empire by wars of conquest. And he\nentreated the good offices of the polished and cultivated Venetians in\nsecuring for him the good offices of the Pope for that end. Accordingly,\nthe two brothers, after satisfying to some degree their curiosity, set\nout for home, full of tales of their strange adventure, we doubt not;\nand they reached Venice in 1269, only to find that the Pope Clement IV.\nwas dead, and that no successor had been chosen in his place.\n\nThere was a long interregnum, and the brothers, taking with them the son\nof Nicolo, the young Marco, then a stout lad, began to retrace their\nsteps to Cathay, despairing of being able to enlist the one hundred\npriests which the Great Khan had asked them to borrow for missionary\npurposes from the Pope.\n\nAt Acre, then held by European powers that had been engaged in the\ncrusades for the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre, they took counsel with\none Tebaldo Visconti, an eminent prelate, who was Archdeacon of Liege\nand a person of great consequence in the Eastern church. At their\nrequest, he wrote letters to the Great Khan, authenticating the causes\nof their failure to fulfil the wishes of the Khan in the matter of\nobtaining the missionaries whom he desired. Then they pushed on toward\nthe farther East, and while waiting for a vessel to sail from the port\nof Ayas, on the Gulf of Scanderoon, then the starting-point for the\nAsiatic trade, they were overtaken by the news that their friend the\nArchdeacon Tebaldo had been chosen Pope, under the title of Gregory X.\nThey at once returned to Acre, and were able to present to the newly\nelected pontiff the request of the Great Khan and get a reply. But\ninstead of one hundred teachers and preachers, they were furnished with\nonly two Dominican friars; and these lost heart and drew back before the\njourney was fairly begun. It may be said here that the Great Khan, being\ndisappointed by the Roman Church, subsequently applied to the Grand\nLlama of Thibet, and from that source secured the teachers whom he so\ngreatly desired. The Great Khan appears to have been an enlightened and\nliberal sovereign, and, according to his lights, was willing to furnish\nto his people the best form of religion that was to be had. He preferred\nthe religion of the elegant and polished Italians, but, failing to get\nthis, he naturally turned his eyes in the direction of Thibet, then an\nunknown land to all Europeans, but regarded in Mongolia as a region of\nsome considerable civilization.\n\nThe three members of the Polo family finally set out on their return to\nCathay, leaving Acre in November, 1271. They proceeded by the way of\nAyas and Sivas to Mardin, Mosul, and Bagdad to Hormuz, at the mouth of\nthe Persian Gulf. Here they met with some obstacle and turned from\nHormuz, and traversed successively Kerman and Khorassan, Balkh, and\nBadakhshan, by the way of the upper Oxus, to the plateau of Pamir;\nthence crossing the steppes of Pamir, the three travellers descended\nupon Kashgar, whence they proceeded by Yarkand and Khotan to the\nvicinity of Lake Lob; and, crossing the desert of Gobi, they reached the\nprovince of Tangut in the extreme northwestern corner of China, or\nCathay. Skirting the northern frontier, they finally reached the actual\npresence of the Great Khan, who was then at his summer palace of\nKaipingfu, before spoken of, situated at the base of the Khingan\nMountains, fifty miles north of the Great Wall. One may form some idea\nof the difficulties of Asiatic travel in those days, as well as the\nleisurely habits of the time, by considering that this journey occupied\nthe three Venetians three years and a half. They arrived at the palace\nof the Khan about May, 1275.\n\nThe Polos were very cordially and gladly received by the potentate, then\nruling over a territory so vast that it has been well said that, \"In\nAsia and Eastern Europe scarcely a dog might bark without Mongol leave,\nfrom the borders of Poland and the coast of Cilicia to the Amoor and the\nYellow Sea.\" Kublai Khan regarded the young Marco with especial favor,\nand soon began to employ him in errands and commissions of importance.\n\"The Young Bachelor,\" as he is called in his book, took pains to acquire\nat once an acquaintance with the Chinese alphabet, and to learn the\nlanguages and dialects of the countries in which he found profitable and\ninteresting employment.\n\nIt appears that the Khan had been greatly annoyed by the stupidity of\nhis own officials and agents. They attended only to the errands on which\nthey were sent, and brought back absolutely no knowledge of the distant\ncountries that they visited, except that which they were specially\ndirected to fetch. Very different was the conduct of the young Venetian.\nHe was shrewdly observant, of a lively disposition, and given to\ninquiring into the strange and wonderful things which he beheld in those\nremote parts of the world, hitherto secluded from the observation of\nEuropeans. He made copious and minute notes of all that he saw and\nheard, for the benefit of his imperial master. These notes afterward\nserved him a good purpose, as we shall see; for they were the basis of\nthe book that has made the name of Marco Polo famous throughout the\nworld. When he returned to the imperial court, we can imagine the\nsatisfaction with which the picturesque and intelligent narrations of\nwhat he had seen and heard were received by the Great Khan.\n\nIn the records of the Mongol dynasty has been found a minute setting\nforth the fact that a certain Polo, undoubtedly young Marco, was\nnominated a second-class commissioner attached to the privy council of\nthe Empire, in the year 1277. His first mission appears to have taken\nhim on public business to the provinces of Shansi, Shensi, Sechuen and\nYunnan, in the southern and southwestern part of China, and east of\nThibet. Even now, those regions are comparatively unknown to the rest of\nthe world; and one must needs admire the intrepidity of the young\nVenetian who penetrated their wild mountain fastnesses, traced their\nmighty rivers, and carried away for the delight of the Great Khan, much\nnovel information concerning the peoples that so numerously flourished\nin that cradle of the human race.\n\nIn his book Marco Polo does not greatly magnify himself and his office,\nand it is only incidentally, as it were, that we know that he was for\nthree years governor of the great city of Yangchau. Following the\ndetails laid down in his book, the accuracy of which we have no reason\nto doubt, we find him visiting the old capital of the Khans, in\nMongolia, employed in Southern Cochin-China, and on a mission to the\nIndian Seas, when he visited some of the states of India, of which\nEuropeans at that time had only dimly heard the most fabulous and vague\naccounts. That the Polos were all favorites of the Great Khan is\nsufficiently evident; but it does not appear that any but Marco was in\nthe employment of the Khan. All three of them doubtless made hay while\nthe sun shone, and gathered wealth as they could, trading with the\npeople and making use of their Venetian shrewdness in dealing with the\nnatives, who were no match for the cunning traders from the Rialto.\n\nNaturally, they longed to carry their wealth and their aged heads--for\nthe two elders were now well stricken in years--safely back to their\nbeloved Venice on the Adriatic, so far away. But Kublai Khan would not\nlisten to any of their suggestions, and turned a deaf ear to their\nhints. A happy chance intervened to bring them out of the wild,\nmysterious realm of the Great Khan. Arghun, Khan of Persia, a\ngreat-nephew of Kublai, had lost by death his favorite wife, who was of\none of the Mongol tribes, and who, dying in 1286, laid a parting\ninjunction on the Khan that he should wed none but a Mongol princess.\nSorely mourning her, the Persian Khan sent an embassy to the court of\nKublai Khan to solicit a suitable bride for him. The Lady Kuchachin, a\ndamsel of seventeen, beautiful and virtuous, was selected by the Court\nand was made ready to be sent to Tabriz, then the capital of the Persian\nEmpire. The overland journey was highly dangerous, as it lay through\nregions tenanted by hostile and warlike tribes, besides being\nportentously long to be undertaken by a delicate young princess. The\nPersian envoys, accordingly, entreated the Great Khan to send with them\nby sea the three foreigners, of whose seamanship they undoubtedly held\nhigh opinion, especially as the young Marco had just returned from his\ndistant and venturous voyage to the Indian Seas. With much reluctance\nthe Khan consented, and the argosy set forth.\n\nHaving given leave for the three Venetians to sail, the Great Khan\nfitted them out nobly and endowed them with handsome presents at\nparting. They sailed, so far as we can now make out, from the port of\nZayton, better known as Chinchau, in Fokien, at the beginning of the\nyear 1292, two hundred years before Columbus set forth upon his voyage\nacross the Ocean Sea.\n\nIt was an ill-starred and unfortunate voyage for the three Polos and\ntheir precious charge, although all escaped with their lives and\ntreasure. They were detained five months on the coast of Sumatra, and\nthere were even longer detentions off the southern coast of India, so\nthat more than two years had passed since their departure from Fokien,\nwhen they arrived at the camp of the then reigning prince of Persia. The\nKhan of Persia, they found, had died before they set sail from China,\nand his son, Ghazan Khan, reigned in his stead.\n\nAfter the custom of the times and the people, however, the princess was\nmarried without ado to the successor of the royal person to whom she had\nbeen betrothed before leaving far-off Cathay. It is related that she\ntook her leave of the three noble Venetians, to whom she had become like\na daughter and sister, with many tears and protestations of affection;\nfor they had been very choice in their care of her, and she lamented\ntheir departure with sincere sorrow and many tears.\n\nLeaving the princess at the camp of the Khan (for he was now at war),\nthe Venetians pushed on to Tabriz, where they made a long halt, resting\nand refreshing themselves after their long and wearisome journey. Then\nthey again took up their line of march westward, and reached Venice, as\nwe have seen, in November, 1295, only to find their identity denied and\ntheir stories disbelieved, until, by an artifice, they made themselves\ntruly known to their fellow-townsmen, who had long since given them up\nfor dead.\n\nMarco Polo's book, dictated by him in prison, is remarkable for its\nreserve and its scantiness of all semblance of ornament in its literary\nstyle. Messer Marco evidently did not greatly affect the arts and graces\nof fine writing. Like most of the Italian gentlefolk of his day and\ngeneration, he held the business of writing in low esteem. Some of his\nchapters are very brief indeed, the text being no greater in bulk than\nthe headings which his amanuensis put over them of his own motion. Of\nthe original manuscript, written in French, copies were made for the use\nof the learned, the art of printing being as yet not invented. There are\nnow in existence no less than eighty of these manuscripts, in various\nlanguages, more or less differing from each other in unimportant\ndetails; but all substantially verifying the facts of the wonderful\nhistory of Messer Marco Polo as here set forth. The most precious of\nthese is known as the Geographical text, and is preserved in the great\nParis Library; from it was printed, in 1824, one of the most valued of\nthe texts now in existence. But the most useful and satisfactory of all\nthe printed editions is that edited and annotated by Colonel Henry Yule,\nand printed in London in 1871. The first printed edition of Marco Polo's\nbook was in the German text, and was published in 1477.\n\nMany writers have dwelt long on the question, Did Columbus gather any\ninformation from the book of Marco Polo that aided him in forming his\ntheory, that one could reach India and Cathay by sailing westward from\nSpain out into the Sea of Darkness? We cannot satisfactorily answer that\nquestion. But we do know that all Europe, at the time of Marco Polo's\nadventurous journey eastward, resolutely turned its back upon the\nAtlantic, and looked toward Cathay and the Far Orient for a road to the\nfabulous diamond mines and spice islands that were believed to exist\nsomewhere in the vague and mysterious East. Many philosophers, among\nwhom was Columbus himself, thought the globe much smaller than it really\nis; but it was Columbus who was apparently charged with a divine mission\nto teach the world that sailing due westward from the Pillars of\nHercules would bring the voyager to the dominions of Prester John, the\nIndies, and Cipangu.\n\nWhen Columbus set sail for his hazardous venture into the Sea of\nDarkness, he was armed with letters to Prester John, the traditional\nChristian prince of the Far East; and his first landfall, as we know\nnow, was by him supposed to be an outlying portion of that vast region\nvaguely known to the explorers who followed Marco Polo, as Farther\nIndia. But centuries rolled away before the world saw the facts of\ngeography as we know them, or learned to accept as true the marvellous\nstories of Marco Polo, whose priceless legacy was first dimly known to\nthe few, and was dubbed the Romance of the Great Khan.\n\n[Signature: Noah Brooks.]\n\n\n\n\nSIR WILLIAM WALLACE\n\n(1270-1305)\n\n\nThe life and exploits of this most popular national hero of the Scots\nhave been principally preserved in a legendary form by poetry and\ntradition, and are only to a very small extent matter of contemporary\nrecord, or illustrated by authentic documents. There is no extant\nScottish chronicler of the age of Wallace. Fordun, the earliest of his\ncountrymen from whom we have any account of him, is his junior by nearly\na century. Wyntoun, the next authority, is still half a century later.\nHis chief celebrator is the metrical writer Blind Harry, or Harry the\nMinstrel, whose work confesses itself by its very form to be quite as\nmuch of a fiction as a history, and whose era, at any rate, is supposed\nto be nearly two centuries subsequent to that of his hero. Some few\nfacts, however, may be got out of the English annalists Trivet and\nHemingford, who were the contemporaries of Wallace.\n\n[Illustration: Sir William Wallace.]\n\nThere are contradictory statements of the year of his birth, but it is\nprobable he was born about 1270. His family was one of some distinction,\nand he is said to have been the younger of the two sons of Sir Malcolm\nWallace, of Elderslie and Auchinbothie, in the neighborhood of Paisley.\nHis mother, who according to one account was Sir Malcolm's second wife,\nis stated by the genealogists to have been Margaret, daughter of Sir\nRaynald or Reginald (other authorities say Sir Hugh) Crawford, who held\nthe office of Sheriff of Ayr.\n\nThe history of Wallace down to the year 1297 is entirely legendary, and\nonly to be found in the rhymes of Harry the Minstrel; though many of the\nfacts which Harry relates still live as popular traditions in the\nlocalities where the scenes of them are laid, whether handed down in\nthat way from the time when they happened, or only derived from his\npoem, which long continued to be the literary favorite of the Scottish\npeasantry. Harry, who, it may be observed, professes to translate from a\nLatin account written by Wallace's intimate friend and chaplain, John\nBlair, makes him to have been carefully educated by his uncle, a wealthy\nchurchman who resided at Dunipace, in Stirlingshire, and to have been\nafterward sent to the grammar-school of Dundee. Here his first memorable\nact is said to have been performed; his slaughter of the son of Selby,\nthe English governor of the castle of Dundee, in chastisement of an\ninsult offered him by the unwary young man; Wallace with his dagger\nstruck him dead on the spot. This must have happened, if at all, in the\nyear 1291, after Edward I. of England had obtained possession of all the\nplaces of strength throughout Scotland on his recognition as Lord\nParamount by the various competitors for the crown, which had become\nvacant by the death of the infant Margaret, the Maiden of Norway, in\nSeptember, 1290.\n\nThis bold deed committed by Wallace, who in making his escape is\nasserted to have laid several of young Selby's attendants as low as\ntheir master, was immediately followed by his outlawry. He now took to\nthe woods, and gifted as he was with eloquence, sagacity, and other high\nmental powers and accomplishments (to this the testimony of Fordun is as\nexpress and explicit as that of his poetical biographer), not less than\nwith strength and height of frame and all other personal advantages, he\nsoon found himself at the head of a band of attached as well as\ndetermined followers, who under his guidance often harassed the English\nsoldiery, both on their marches and at their stations, plundering and\nslaying, as it might chance, with equally little remorse. Particular\nspots in nearly every part of Scotland are still famous for some deed of\nWallace and his fellow-outlaws, performed at this period of his life;\nbut for these we must refer to the Blind Minstrel. The woods in the\nneighborhood of Ayr would seem to have been his chief haunt; and some of\nhis most remarkable feats of valor were exhibited in that town, in the\nface and in defiance of the foreign garrison by which it was occupied.\nBoth his father and his elder brother are said to have fallen in\n_rencontres_ with the English during this interval. It was now also that\nhe fell in love with the orphan daughter of Sir Hew de Bradfute, the\nheiress of Lamington, having, it is said, first seen her at a church in\nthe neighborhood of Lanark. The Scotch writers affirm that this lady,\nwhom he appears to have married, and who at any rate bore him a\ndaughter, a year or two after forming her connection with Wallace fell\ninto the hands of his enemies, and was barbarously executed by order of\nHazelrig, the English Sheriff or Governor of Lanark, while her husband,\nor lover, was doomed to witness the spectacle from a place where he lay\nin concealment. Such private injuries were well fitted to raise his\nhatred to an unextinguishable flame.\n\nHow far the guerilla warfare maintained by Wallace and his associates\ncontributed to excite and spread the spirit of resistance to the English\ngovernment, we have scarcely the means of judging; but it seems probable\nthat it aided materially in producing the general insurrection which\nbroke out in the spring of 1297. The accounts we have of the\ncommencement of that movement represent Wallace at its head, in command\nof a considerable force, and in association with some of the most\ndistinguished persons in the kingdom, such as the Steward of Scotland\nand his brother, Wishart, Bishop of Glasgow, Sir William Douglas, etc.\nSoon after this he was joined by the younger Robert Bruce (afterward\nKing Robert I.) who had hitherto, as well as his father, who was still\nalive (the son of the original competitor for the crown), professed to\nadhere to the English king.\n\nThis, however, appears to have been but an ill-cemented confederacy.\nWhen the force despatched by Edward to quell the revolt presented itself\nbefore the Scottish army posted near Irvine, in Ayrshire, the leaders of\nthe latter, throwing off the authority of their nominal chief, could no\nmore agree what to do than whom to obey: and the result was that Bruce,\nthe Steward, Douglas, and others of them, availing themselves of the\ndiplomatic talents of the Bishop of Glasgow, concluded a treaty on July\n9th, by which they agreed to acknowledge Edward as their sovereign lord.\nAll the rest ultimately acceded to this arrangement, except only Wallace\nand his friend, Sir Andrew Moray, of Bothwell. The treaty of Irvine,\nwhich is printed by Rymer, is, we believe, the first of the few public\ndocuments in which mention is made of Wallace; to the instrument (which\nis in French) are subjoined the words, \"Escrit a Sir Willaume,\" the\nmeaning of which Lord Hailes conceives to be, \"that the barons had\nnotified Wallace that they had made terms of accommodation for\nthemselves and their party.\" The words, moreover, on the supposition\nthat they refer to Wallace, of which there seems to be little doubt,\nshow that he had before this date obtained the honor of knighthood. It\nhad probably been bestowed upon him (as was then customary) by some\nother knight, one of his companions in arms, since his elevation from\nbeing the captain of a band of outlaws to be the commander-in-chief of\nthe national forces.\n\nWallace now retired to the north, carrying with him, however, a\nconsiderable body of adherents, to whom additional numbers rapidly\ngathered, so that he soon found himself in a condition to recommence\naggressive operations. Directing his force to the northeastern coast, he\nsurprised the castle of Dunottar, cleared Aberdeen, Forfar, Brechin, and\nother towns of their English garrisons, and then laid siege to the\ncastle of Dundee. While he was engaged in this last attempt, news was\nbrought that the English army was approaching Stirling; upon which,\nleaving the siege to be carried on by the citizens of Dundee, he\nhastened to meet the enemy in the field. The result was the complete\ndefeat and rout of the English, at the battle of Stirling Bridge, fought\non September 11, 1297--a battle which once more, for the moment,\nliberated Scotland. The English were immediately driven or fled from\nevery place of strength in the country, including Berwick itself.\n\nAvailing himself of this panic and of the exhilaration of his\ncountrymen, Wallace pursued the fugitives across the border; and putting\nhimself at the head of a numerous force, he entered England on October\n18th, and, remaining till November 11th, wasted the country with fire\nand sword from sea to sea, and as far south as to the walls of\nNewcastle. It was during this visitation that the prior and convent of\nHexham obtained from him the protection preserved by Hemingford. It is\ndated at Hexildesham (Hexham), November 7th, and runs in the names of\n\"Andreas de Moravia, et Wilhelmus Wallensis, duces exercitus Scotiae,\nnomine praeclari principis Joannis, Dei gratia, Regis Scotia illustris,\nde consensu communitatis regni ejusdem,\" that is, \"Andrew Moray and\nWilliam Wallace, commanders-in-chief of the army of Scotland, in the\nname of King John, and by consent of the community of the said kingdom.\"\nThe John here acknowledged as King of Scotland was Baliol, now in the\nhands of Edward, and living in a sort of free custody in the Tower of\nLondon. Wallace's associate in the command was the young Sir Andrew\nMoray, son of his faithful friend of that name, who had retired with him\nfrom the capitulation of Irvine, and who had fallen at the battle of\nStirling Bridge.\n\nOne of the most curious of the few public papers in which the name of\nWallace occurs was a few years since discovered by Dr. Lappenburg, of\nHamburg, in the archives of the ancient Hanseatic city of Luebeck. It is\na letter, in Latin, addressed to the authorities of Luebeck and Hamburg,\ninforming them that their merchants should now have free access to all\nports of the kingdom of Scotland, seeing that the said kingdom, by the\nfavor of God, had been recovered by war from the power of the English.\nThe letter is dated \"apud Badsing tonam\" (the true word, it has been\nsuggested, is probably Haddingtonam), October 11, 1297, that is, a few\ndays before the invasion of Cumberland and Northumberland. It is in the\nname of \"Andreas de Moravia et Willelmus Wallensis, duces exercitis\nregni Scotiae, et communitas, eiusdem regni\"--like the Hexham\nprotection--but without any mention of King John.\n\nAfter his triumphal return from his incursion into England, Wallace\nassumed the title of Guardian of the Kingdom in the name of King John,\nwhether formally invested with that dignity or only hailed as such by\nthe gratitude of his countrymen. In a charter, printed in Anderson's\n\"Diplomata,\" conferring the constabulary of Dundee on Alexander\nSkirmischur (Scrimgeour) and his heirs, and dated at Torphichen (in the\ncounty of Linlithgow) March 29, 1298, he styles himself, \"Willelmus\nWalays miles, Custos Regni Scotiae, et ductor exercituum ejusdem, nomine\npraeclari principis Domini Johannis, Dei gratia Regis Scotiae illustris,\nde consensu communitatis ejusdem.\" The grant is stated to have been made\nwith the consent and approbation of the nobility (\"per consensum et\nassensum magnatum dicti regni.\")\n\nBut this supreme elevation did not last long. Supported only by his own\nmerits and the admiration and attachment of his humbler\nfellow-countrymen, Wallace, a new man, and without family connection,\nwould probably have found it difficult or impossible to retain his high\nplace, even if he had had nothing more to contend with than domestic\njealousy and dissatisfaction. Fordun relates that many of the nobility\nwere in the habit of saying, \"We will not have this man to rule over\nus.\" Meanwhile the energetic English king, who had been abroad when the\ndefeat of Stirling Bridge lost him Scotland, had now returned home, and\nwas already on his march toward the borders at the head of a powerful\narmy. A body of English, which had landed in the north of Fife, led by\nAymer de Vallois, Earl of Pembroke, is said by the Scottish authorities\nto have been attacked and routed by Wallace on June 12, 1298, in the\nforest of Blackironside, in that county; but when the two main armies\nmet on July 22d, in the neighborhood of Falkirk--the Scots commanded by\nWallace, the English by their king in person--the former, after a\ngallant and obstinate resistance, were at last forced to give way, and\nthe battle ended in a universal rout accompanied with immense slaughter.\n\nThis defeat did not put an end to the war; but it was taken advantage of\nby the Scottish nobility to deprive Wallace of his office of guardian or\nchief governor of the kingdom. The Scottish accounts say that he\nvoluntarily resigned the supreme power; it is certain, at any rate, that\nBruce, his rival Comyn, and Lamberton, Bishop of St. Andrew's, were now\nappointed joint guardians of Scotland, still in the name of Baliol. For\nsome years after this our accounts of Wallace are slight and obscure;\nbut he appears to have returned with a chosen band of followers to the\npractice of the desultory warfare in which he had originally\ndistinguished himself. The legendary histories continue to detail his\ndeeds of prowess performed in harassing the enemy both on their marches\nand in their camps and strongholds. And to fill up the story, they also\nmake him to have paid two visits to France--the first in 1300, the\nsecond in 1302. The next well-ascertained fact regarding him is that\nwhen the Scottish leaders were at last obliged to submit to Edward at\nStrathorde, on February 9, 1304, Wallace was not included in the\ncapitulation, one of the clauses of which (printed in the original\nFrench in Ryley's \"Placeta Parliamentaria\") is to the effect that as for\nWallace (Monsieur Guillaume de Galeys), he might, if he pleased, give\nhimself up to the king's mercy (\"quil se mette en la volunte et en la\ngrace nostre seigneur le Roy, si lui semble, que bon soit\"). He was soon\nafter summoned to appear before a parliament or convention of Scotch and\nEnglish nobility, held at St. Andrew's; and upon their not presenting\nthemselves, he and Sir Simon Frisel, or Fraser, were pronounced outlaws.\nFor some time his retreat remained undiscovered, although his active\nhostility still continued occasionally to make itself felt. A principal\nperson employed in the attempts to capture him appears to have been\nRalph de Haliburton; but how he was actually taken is not known. Sir\nJohn Menteith (a son of Walter Stewart, Earl of Menteith), to whose\ntreachery his delivery to the English king is attributed by Blind Harry\nand popular tradition, appears to have really done nothing more than\nforward him to England after he was brought a prisoner to Dumbarton\nCastle, of which Menteith was governor under a commission from Edward.\n\nOn being brought to London, Wallace was lodged in the house of William\nDelect, a citizen, in Fenchurch Street; and on the next day, being the\neve of St. Bartholomew, he was brought on horseback to Westminster, and\nin the hall there, \"being placed on the south bench,\" says Stow,\n\"crowned with laurel for that he had said in times past that he ought to\nbear a crown in that all,\" he was arraigned as a traitor, and on that\ncharge found guilty, and condemned to death. After being dragged to the\nusual place of execution--the Elms, in West Smithfield--at the tails of\nhis horses, he was there hanged on a high gallows, on August 23, 1305,\nafter which he was \"drawn and quartered.\" His right arm was set up at\nNewcastle, his left at Berwick; his right leg at Perth, his left at\nAberdeen; his head on London Bridge. Wallace's daughter, by the heiress\nof Lamington, married Sir William Bailie, of Hoprig, whose descendants\nthrough her inherited the estate of Lamington.\n\n\n\n\nROBERT BRUCE\n\nBy Sir J. BERNARD BURKE, LL.D.\n\n(1274-1329)\n\n\nRobert Bruce was born in the year 1274, on the Feast of the translation\nof St. Benedict, being March 21st, and was undoubtedly of Norman origin.\nIn an annual roll containing the names of those knights and barons who\ncame over with William the Conqueror, we find that of Brueys; and from\nthe Domesday Book it appears that a family of the same name were\npossessed of lands in Yorkshire. Coming down to a later period, 1138,\nwhen David I. of Scotland made his fatal attack upon England--fatal,\nthat is, to himself and his people--the English barons, previous to the\nbattle of Cutton Moor, near Northallerton, sent a message to the\nScottish king, by Robert Bruce, of Cleveland, a Norman knight, who\npossessed estates in either country. Upon his death, this knight\nbequeathed his English lands to his eldest son, and those in Annandale\nto his younger, who received a confirmation of his title by a charter of\nWilliam the Lion. From this root sprung Robert Bruce, the competitor for\nthe crown with Baliol, whose grandson was the more celebrated Robert\nBruce, the younger, Earl of Carrick in virtue of his mother's title, and\nafterward King of Scotland. He was the eldest of three brothers and\nseven sisters, whose marriages with some of the leading families of\nScotland proved an important element of success to the future hero. His\nearliest years were passed at the castle of Turnberry, where his mother\nresided; but as he grew older, his father, who considered himself an\nEnglish baron, thought proper that he should be removed to the English\ncourt. The friendship subsisting between Edward the First and the Earl\nof Carrick induced the former to adopt the earl's son; so that the\nconfiding monarch trained up his mortal enemy in the use of those arts\nand weapons which were one day to be turned against himself.\n\n[Illustration: Robert Bruce.]\n\nThe family of Bruce, as we have already noticed, were competitors for\nthe Scottish throne with Baliol, in whose favor an award was pronounced\nby Edward, when called upon to arbitrate between them. At this time the\nelder Bruce was far advanced in years; his son, the Earl of Carrick, was\nstill in the prime of life, and his grandson, Robert Bruce was eighteen\nyears of age. Upon the old man being required to do homage for his lands\nin Scotland to the new monarch of that country, he indignantly refused,\nexclaiming, \"I am Baliol's sovereign, not Baliol mine; and rather than\nconsent to such a homage, I resign my lands in Annandale to my son, the\nEarl of Carrick.\" But Carrick was not less proud, or averse to anything\nthat might call in question his claim to the crown of Scotland, and in\nlike manner refused to hold any lands of Baliol. As, however, according\nto the feudal law, he must either divest himself of his estate, or do\nhomage for it, he adopted the former alternative, and resigned the lands\nof Annandale in favor of his son, Robert. The young baron, less\nscrupulous than his relatives, did not hesitate to accept his father's\ngift, which, upon feudal principles, carried with it the title of Earl\nof Carrick, and did homage for the same to Baliol. By his father's\ndeath, in 1304, he became possessed of the family estates in England.\n\nFrom this time Bruce played his part with skill, though in justice it\nmust be allowed that his patriotism was not altogether without the alloy\nof a selfish ambition; and perhaps it would be expecting too much from\nhuman nature, even in its best and highest forms, to look for anything\nelse. Neither can we free him from the charge of dissimulation in that\nhe swore a fealty to Baliol, which it is plain he never intended to\nobserve, and affected gratitude and attachment for the English monarch,\nwhile in secret he was preparing to undermine him. An excuse for this\nhas been sought by his more partial admirers in the necessity of the\ncase, arising from the well-known sagacity of Edward, who would\notherwise have penetrated his purposes and crushed them in the bud\nwithout scruple. Nor was this the only obstacle in his path to empire.\nUpon the failure of Baliol and his only son, Edward, the ancient and\npowerful family of the Comyns were ready to dispute his title to the\ncrown, which they claimed for themselves. John, commonly called the Red\nComyn, who had been the determined opponent of Wallace, possessed, in\nthe event of the monarch dying without issue, the same right to the\nthrone which was vested in Bruce himself. He, too, had connected himself\nby marriage with the royal family of England, and was at this time one\nof the most powerful subjects in Scotland. When Baliol leagued with\nComyn to throw off the supremacy of Edward, whose hand, whether justly\nor not, had raised him to the Scottish throne, the Bruces and their\nparty, tempted by the promise of a crown, lent their best aid to the\nEnglish monarch. Upon the termination of the campaign the elder Bruce\ndemanded the fulfilment of Edward's promise, to which the latter\nindignantly replied that he had not come into Scotland to conquer a\nkingdom for him; so that Bruce reaped nothing else at the time from his\nservice, than the satisfaction of seeing his rival, Baliol, dethroned,\nand the influence of the Comyns effectually diminished.\n\nIn 1296 Edward held a parliament at Berwick, compelling the Scotch\nbarons to do him homage, and the young lord of Carrick concurred in the\nnational submission. But notwithstanding this outward show of fealty, he\nbecame, in the time of Wallace's success, suspected of entertaining\ndesigns upon the crown. At first, indeed, he had joined against Wallace,\nand wasted the lands of his adherent, Douglas, with fire and sword; yet,\nsoon after his return home, he summoned the Annandale men, who were the\nvassals of his father, then in the service of Edward, and thus addressed\nthem: \"You have already heard, without doubt, of that solemn oath, which\nI lately took at Carlisle, and I cannot deny the fact; but the oath was\na foolish one, and exacted by fear; it was my body that took the oath,\nand not my mind; but its having been taken at all is now to me the cause\nof much remorse and sorrow; yet erelong I hope to be absolved from it by\nour Holy Father. In the meanwhile, I am resolved to go and join my\nfellow-countrymen, and assist them in their efforts to restore to its\nliberty the land of my nativity, for none, as you know, is an enemy of\nhis own flesh, and as for me, I love my people. Let me beseech you,\nthen, to adopt the same resolution, and you shall ever be esteemed my\nmost dear friends and approved counsellors.\"\n\nTo this request the men of Annandale deferred giving any answer till the\nmorning, and took advantage of the night to retire, so that Bruce could\nonly join the insurgents with his own vassals of Carrick.\n\nThe first disappointment might have taught Bruce to desist from his\ndesign, for which the time was not yet ripe; but blinded by ambition, he\nentered into a strict alliance with Wishart, the Bishop of Glasgow, and\nthe Steward of Scotland, the principal leaders of the insurrection. Upon\njoining his new associates, he found their purposes utterly incompatible\nwith his views upon the crown. Wallace, the soul of the party, had ever\nsupported the claims of Baliol, and his great supporter, Sir Andrew\nMoray, a near connection of the Comyns, had the same object. During the\ncampaign, therefore, of 1298, which concluded with the battle of\nFalkirk, Bruce shut himself up in his castle of Ayr, maintaining a\ncautious neutrality, while his father continued to reside in England and\nto serve Edward in his wars. The king, however, did not admire this cold\nsystem of neutrality. He in consequence determined to attack the castle\nof Ayr, and Bruce, dreading the consequences, razed it to the ground,\nand sought an asylum in the mountain fastnesses of Carrick.\n\nIn the following year, when Wallace had resigned the regency, John\nComyn, of Badenoch, and Sir John de Soulis, were chosen governors of the\nkingdom, and the party of Bruce availed themselves of the opportunity to\nadvance his influence by opposition to those in power, and by defeating\nevery measure taken for the public benefit. An attempt was made by those\nwho really wished well to the national cause, or who dreaded that their\ndisunion might be fatal to all alike, to reconcile the contending\nfactions; with this view they elected Bruce, and Lamberton, Bishop of\nGlasgow, joint regents in the name of Baliol; but this ill-assorted\ncoalition soon fell to pieces, as might have been expected, where the\nviews which one party entertained in secret were so utterly opposed to\nthe avowed purposes of all.\n\nThe policy which actuated Bruce on this occasion may be easily\nexplained. It was clear that Edward would never consent to the\nrestoration of Baliol, then in exile, and the Comyns had taken so\ndecided a part against him, that it seemed most improbable he would ever\nconsent to raise one of that family to the throne. Continuing,\ntherefore, the same line of duplicity with which he had commenced, and\nwhich he had only abandoned for a single instant in the vain hope of\npersuading the party of Wallace to openly adopt his claims, he now\nendeavored by submission and affected attachment to win the favor of the\nEnglish monarch. Edward, he well knew, had the power, could he be\nbrought to entertain the inclination, to place him on the Scottish\nthrone, and if this point were once attained, Bruce trusted that means\nwould afterward occur of shaking off all dependence upon his benefactor.\nIn these designs he to a certain extent succeeded, but not in his main\nobject. If he was crafty, Edward was yet craftier. He had fallen into\nthe same error that his father had, in 1296, and was outwitted by the\nsuperior political ability of him whom he had intended to deceive, and\nwho, it must be confessed, was equally insincere. Edward cheated both\nfather and son, by holding out to them the hope of a crown he never\nmeant them to attain, his object being to unite the two countries; an\nexcellent purpose in itself, if we could only bring ourselves to\noverlook the fraud and violence by which it was to be accomplished.\nWhen, therefore, the Comyns submitted, in 1304, and he proceeded to the\nsettlement of his new dominions, the Earl of Carrick found that his only\ngain was the being employed among the commissioners in organizing a\nsystem of government. He had, however, reaped no little advantage from\nhis dissimulation. While Baliol was an exile and Comyn in disgrace, he\nhad preserved his estates, and won the king's confidence without losing,\nbut rather augmenting, his influence with the Scotch. At the same time\nhe saw that Comyn was still powerful; his claims to the throne were more\ngenerally admitted by the people, and without his concurrence nothing\ncould be effected. Thus situated, Bruce submitted to his rival this\nalternative: \"Give me your land, and I shall bind myself to support your\ntitle to the kingdom, and, when we have expelled our enemies, to place\nthe crown upon your head; or, if thou dost not choose to assume the\nstate of the kingdom, here am I ready to resign to you my estates, on\ncondition that you second me in my efforts to regain the throne of my\nfathers.\" Comyn accepted the latter alternative, but immediately\nbetrayed the design to Edward, and sent him the letter, or indenture, by\nwhich Bruce had bound himself. But the latter, when suddenly charged\nwith it, denied his hand and seal with a coolness that could only belong\nto one long practised in the arts of dissimulation, and demanded time to\nprove his innocence. Arch-deceiver as the English king himself was, he\nyet allowed himself to be duped by this specious effrontery, and Bruce\nescaping into Scotland, murdered Comyn in the church of the Grey Friars,\nat Dumfries. Soon afterward he was crowned at Scone, and the revolution\nspread far and wide; upon hearing which, Edward sent an invading army\ninto Scotland. Superiority of force and military skill soon compelled\nBruce to retreat to the mountain fastnesses, that offered a better place\nof security than the strongest castle, for castles might be stormed; but\nhere, if danger threatened him at one point, he had only to retreat to\none more remote and more rugged, and thus at any time was enabled to\nbaffle his pursuers when he found them too powerful to be resisted. A\nseries of fights--battles they could hardly be called--and adventures\nnow ensued which have all the coloring of romance, but which entailed so\nmuch of hardness and privation upon his followers, that after a while it\nbecame evident he would not be able much longer to keep them from\nabandoning a cause so desperate. Then, again, a spark of hope was\nkindled by the disaffection growing out of the severity which Edward\nexercised upon all who had been in arms to resist him. Numbers in\nconsequence flocked to Bruce, and fresh adventures succeeded of a yet\nmore romantic nature than those already mentioned; the fortunes of the\nwanderer seeming now to be at the lowest ebb, and then again rising into\na prosperous flood, which as rapidly subsided, making it a matter of\nsome difficulty for him to escape being stranded by the falling waters.\nIt was during this season that Douglas disgraced himself and the\nScottish name by barbarities that have never been surpassed, and rarely\neven equalled.\n\nThe death of the great Edward--for great he was, in spite of all his\nfaults--and the accession of his son, the feeble Edward II., left an\nopen field to Bruce, who was as much superior to those that now opposed\nhim, as he had been overcrowned by the genius of his late adversary. He\nmarched from victory to victory, and would, no doubt, have brought the\ncontest to a happy termination, had he not been seized by an alarming\nsickness. At first, it threatened to be fatal; things were again\nbeginning to look gloomy for Scotland; but in the moment of extreme\nperil, he shook off his disease by a strong effort, and once more led\nhis followers through a series of triumphs, which were crowned by the\ngreat battle of Bannockburn. Though we cannot allow the ambition which\nseeks a crown to pass for patriotism, it is impossible to deny the\nhighest praise to the courage, firmness, and ability displayed by Bruce\nthrough the whole of this trying period. None may deny that he deserved\na crown, and when once obtained, it acquired a lustre from the talents\nof him who wore it.\n\nBruce soon found himself in a condition to assist his brother Edward in\nthe attempt to drive the English out of Ireland. But here the usual good\nfortune of the Scotch abandoned them. After a hard-fought campaign,\nattended by many vicissitudes, his sagacity saw that the attempt was\nhopeless, and he returned to Scotland. Shortly afterward, the turbulent\nand aspiring Edward Bruce was slain in battle.\n\nHis wonted success attended Bruce in the field, in the midst of which,\nhowever, a plot was formed against his life and government. Fortunately\nit was revealed in time by the Countess of Strathearn, to whom the\nconspirators had the weakness to confide their intentions; and soon\nafterward, to crown his prosperity, Edward II. was compelled by a series\nof defeats to conclude a peace. But Bruce's health began to be impaired,\nand when war again broke out between the countries, upon the deposition\nof Edward II. and the succession of his son, Edward III., he was unable\nto lead his projected expedition against England. It ended in failure,\nif not in defeat.\n\nA short interval of health and hope gleamed upon him after this attack,\nand peace was concluded between the two countries, greatly to the\ndissatisfaction of the English, who, justly enough, considered\nthemselves sacrificed to the ambition of the queen-mother, Isabella, and\nof her favorite, Mortimer. But this momentary promise of health and\nvigor soon passed away, and it became plain to all that the life of this\nbrave and sagacious monarch was drawing rapidly to a close. In\nexpectation of the final event he had given orders to have a magnificent\ntomb made at Paris; which was brought to Bruges, thence through England\ninto Scotland, and on its arrival erected in the church of the\nBenedictines at Dunfermline.\n\nBruce died in his fifty-fifth year, and was buried in the abbey-church\nof Dunfermline, as he had desired.\n\nIn the prime of his life Bruce was upward of six feet high; his\nshoulders were broad, his chest full and open; the cheek-bones strong\nand prominent, and the muscles of the back and neck of great size and\nthickness; his hair curled short over a broad forehead, and the general\nexpression of his face was calm and cheerful; yet, when he pleased, he\ncould assume a character of stern command. Such, at least, Bruce has\nbeen described by the old historian, and we may easily believe it, since\nthe outward semblance agrees so well with what is recorded of his life\nand actions.\n\n\n\n\nARNOLD VON WINKELRIED\n\n(DIED, 1386)\n\n[Illustration: Arnold von Winkelried.]\n\n\nThe incident with which this name is connected is, after the purely\nlegendary feat of Tell, the best known and most popular in the early\nhistory of the Swiss Confederation. We are told how, at a critical\nmoment in the great battle of Sempach, when the Swiss had failed to\nbreak the serried ranks of the Austrian knights, a man of Unterwalden,\nArnold von Winkelried by name, came to the rescue. Commending his wife\nand children to the care of his comrades, he rushed toward the\nAustrians, gathered a number of their spears together against his\nbreast, and fell pierced through, having opened a way into the hostile\nranks for his fellow-countrymen, though at the price of his own life.\nBut the Tell and Winkelried stories stand in a very different position\nwhen looked at in the dry light of history; for, while in the former\nimaginary and impossible men (bearing now and then a real historical\nname) do imaginary and impossible deeds at a very uncertain period, in\nthe latter we have some solid ground to rest on, and Winkelried's act\nmight very well have been performed, though, as yet, the amount of\ngenuine and early evidence in support of it is very far from being\nsufficient.\n\nThe Winkelrieds of Stanz were a knightly family when we first hear of\nthem, though toward the end of the fourteenth century they seem to have\nbeen but simple men without the honors of knighthood, and not always\nusing their prefix \"von.\" Among its members we find an Erni Winkelried\nacting as a witness to a contract of sale on May 1, 1367; while the same\nman, or perhaps another member of the family, Erni von Winkelried, is\nplaintiff in a suit at Stanz, on September 29, 1389, and in 1417 is the\nlandamman (or head-man) of Unterwalden, being then called Arnold\nWinkelriet. We have, therefore, a real man named Arnold Winkelried\nliving at Stanz, about the time of the battle of Sempach. The question\nis thus narrowed to the points, was he present at the battle, and did he\nthen perform the deed commonly attributed to him? The determination of\nthis question requires a minute investigation of the history of that\nbattle, to ascertain if there are any authentic traces of this\nincident, or any opportunity for it to have taken place.\n\n1. EVIDENCE OF CHRONICLES.--The earliest known mention of the incident\nis found in a Zurich chronicle (discovered in 1862 by Herr G. von Wyss),\nwhich is a copy, made in 1476, of a chronicle written in, or at any rate\nnot earlier than, 1438, though it is wanting in the sixteenth century\ntranscript of another chronicle written in 1466, which up to 1389\nclosely agrees with the former. It appears in the well-known form, but\nthe hero is stated to be \"ein getruewer man under den Eidgenozen,\" no\nname being given, and it seems clear that his death did not take place\nat that time. No other mention has been found in any of the numerous\nSwiss or Austrian chronicles, till we come to the book \"De Helvetiae\nOrigine,\" written in 1538 by Rudolph Gwalther (Zwingli's son-in-law),\nwhen the hero is still nameless, being compared to Decius or Codrus, but\nis said to have been killed by his brave act. Finally we read the full\nstory in the original draft of Giles Tschudi's chronicle, where the hero\nis described \"as a man of Unterwalden, of the Winkelried family,\" this\nbeing expanded in the first rescension of the chronicle (1564) into \"a\nman of Unterwalden, Arnold von Winkelried by name, a brave knight;\"\nwhile he is entered (in the same book, on the authority of the\n\"Anniversary Book\" of Stanz, now lost) on the list of those who fell at\nSempach, at the head of the Nidwald (or Stanz) men, as \"Herr Arnold von\nWinkelried, ritter,\" this being in the first draft \"Arnold Winckelriet.\"\n\n2. BALLADS.--There are several war songs on the battle of Sempach\nwhich have come down to us, but in one only is there mention of\nWinkelried and his deed. This is a long ballad of sixty-seven\nfour-line stanzas, part of which (including the Winkelried section)\nis found in the additions made between 1531 and 1545 to Etterlin's\nchronicle by H. Berlinger of Basel, and the whole in Werner\nSteiner's chronicle (written 1532). It is agreed on all sides that\nthe last stanza, attributing the authorship to Halbsuter, of\nLucerne, \"as he came back from the battle,\" is a very late addition.\nMany authorities regard it as made up of three distinct songs (one\nof which refers to the battle and Winkelried), possibly put together\nby the younger Halbsuter (citizen of Lucerne in 1435, died between\n1470 and 1480); though others contend that the Sempach-Winkelried\nsection bears clear traces of having been composed after the\nReformation began, that is, about 1520 or 1530. Some recent\ndiscoveries have proved that certain statements in the song, usually\nregarded as anachronisms, are quite accurate; but no nearer approach\nhas been made toward fixing its exact date, or that of any of the\nthree bits into which it has been cut up. In this song the story\nappears in its full-blown shape, the name of Winckelriet being\ngiven.\n\n[Illustration: Arnold Winkelried At Sempach.]\n\n\n\n\nJOAN OF ARC[8]\n\n         [Footnote 8: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess.]\n\nBy ELLA WHEELER WILCOX\n\n(1412-1431)\n\n[Illustration: Joan of Arc.]\n\n\nIn the history of the world since the dawn of time, there is no other\ncharacter so remarkable to me as that of Joan of Arc.\n\nYou have but to think of any young girl of your acquaintance, seventeen\nyears old, and try to imagine her leading an army to battle, storming a\nfort, or planning a campaign, in order to realize in a measure the\nastounding qualities possessed by this wonderful being.\n\nNot only did she do all this as wisely as the most astute general who\never lived, but she succeeded in liberating France from the hands of the\nEnglish, where we have very good reason to think it might have otherwise\nremained to this day; for the English were gaining ground steadily, and\nthe French dauphin was utterly discouraged, and had ceased to make an\neffort to maintain his rights, when Joan of Arc came to his rescue.\n\nThe English king, Henry V., had died in the midst of his triumphs. Two\nmonths later, imbecile Charles VI., of France, passed away also, and\nHenry VI., of England, was proclaimed king of both nations; while at the\nsame time the dauphin was hailed King of France by his few followers.\nBut his fortunes were at the lowest ebb, his small army, stationed at\nOrleans, was in need of food. Four thousand of his men went out to\nsearch for provisions, and encountered half that number of English\nsoldiers. A battle ensued, and five hundred of the bravest French\nsoldiers were left dead on the field of strife. Despite their bravery,\nhunger and fatigue had unfitted them to combat with their well-fed\nadversaries.\n\nThe dauphin had shut himself in the castle of Chinon, with fair women\nand gay comrades, while the siege was raging before the walls of\nOrleans. He was at that time a weak and vacillant youth, given over to\nthe same pleasures and vices which drove his father mad and caused his\nbrother's death. He had no pride in rescuing his crown from the English,\nand it must be confessed that the treatment he had received from his own\nmother and his own countrymen, who sold him to the enemy, was sufficient\nto dishearten a stronger nature than his. Added to this, he was doubtful\nof his legitimate right to the throne, owing to his mother's depraved\ncareer. But when, in the midst of his orgies, the news was brought to\nhim, in the castle of Chinon, that his army was defeated before the\nwalls of Orleans, what little hope or courage he had left seemed to\ndesert him and he sank into a state of despair.\n\nAnd far away on the frontier, in the little village of Domremy, a young\ngirl watched her flocks, and wept over the fate of her beloved country;\nand weeping, prayed that God would save France from the oppressor. How\nearnestly she prayed, and how well God listened, history has recorded in\na tale more wonderful than any story ever conceived by the imagination\nof man, and sadder than any other save the story of the Nazarene upon\nthe Cross of Calvary.\n\nThe end of France as a nation seemed at hand. The nobility had been led\ninto captivity and sold to an invading enemy; the clergy had seen its\naltars defamed by arrogant strangers. Industry had been ruined by civil\nwars during the long imbecility of Charles VI., and the succeeding\nravages made by the English. Villages were depopulated, homes desolated,\nand look where they might, the people of France saw no hope of aid, save\nfrom on high.\n\nOf this epoch Henry Martin says, \"The people expected nothing from human\nsources; but a sentiment of indestructible nationality stirred in their\nhearts and told them that France could not die. Hoping nothing from\nearth, they lifted their souls to heaven; an ardent religious fervor\nseized upon them, which had no part with clergy or creed. It rose from\nthe extremity of their need, and fixed its root in an old oracle of the\nMiddle Ages, which had predicted that France should be 'lost through a\nwoman and saved by a virgin.'\"\n\nFrance had certainly been lost through its wicked queen; that part of\nthe old prophecy had been fearfully fulfilled; the remaining clause was\nyet to be verified. The people, excited to a religious frenzy by their\ndesperate straits and their faith in the old superstition, prayed more\nfervently with each day; and their prayers rose like great white eagles\nand settled upon the heart of that strange divine child, who was weeping\nover the fate of France while she watched her sheep on the plains of\nDomremy.\n\nA humbly born girl was Joan of Arc, unable to read or write; women who\ncould do more than that were rare in those days, so she was not despised\non account of her ignorance, but highly respected for her industry and\npiety. An enthusiastic Catholic, she added to her church duties by\nactive benevolence and kindness to the sick and poor in her native town.\nOften she was seen to kneel in the fields and pray; and there was a\nchapel some miles from Domremy to which she used to make a pilgrimage\nevery Sunday and offer prayers to the Virgin. There was, too, in the\nforest of Bois Chemin a famous beech-tree under which a stream of clear\nwater flowed; and a superstition prevailed among the people of Domremy\nthat fairies had blessed this tree and bestowed healing properties upon\nthe waters of the stream. The priest and the villagers marched about the\nsacred tree once each year singing solemn chants, and the young people\nhung its boughs with garlands, and danced under its shading branches.\nJoan dearly loved this spot, and it became her favorite haunt. The\nechoes of war reverberated even to this quiet frontier hamlet, and in\nher hours of reverie she dwelt sadly upon the stories of bloodshed and\nsuffering which she heard her elders repeat.\n\nShe was twelve years old when the dauphin was proclaimed king by his few\nfollowers; and in all his flight from province to province, fleeing\nbefore the usurpers of his throne, no heart in all France suffered more\nkeenly than the heart beating in the breast of this humble shepherd\ngirl. The misfortunes of the dauphin, the woes of her country, took\ncomplete possession of her expanding mind. Her pure young soul yearned\ntoward the Infinite in one ceaseless prayer; and when any soul is so\nlifted up above all thought of self, praying for the good of others, a\nresponse never fails to come. It is only selfish prayers which remain\nunanswered. Joan's beautiful nature was like the sensitive plate\nprepared to receive the impression; and while she prayed the angels to\nsave France, the angels prepared her to become the saviour.\n\nOne summer day, when she was in her fourteenth year, she was running in\nthe fields with her companions, when, as she afterward declared, \"she\nfelt herself lifted as by an invisible force and carried along as if she\npossessed wings.\" Her companions gazed upon her with astonishment,\nseeing her fly beyond their reach. Then she heard a voice, which\nproceeded from a great light above her; and the voice said, \"Joan, put\nyour trust in God, and go and save France.\"\n\nThis strange experience filled her with terror; but ere many days she\nheard the voice again, and this time she saw the figure of a winged\nangel. \"I am the Archangel Michael,\" the voice said, \"and the messenger\nof God, who bids you to go to the aid of the dauphin and restore him to\nhis throne.\"\n\nOvercome with fear, she fell on her knees in tears; but the angel\ncontinued to appear to her, accompanied with two female forms, and\nalways urging her to go to the aid of her country. Fear gave place to\necstacy, and in the heart of this divine child awoke the audacious idea\nwhose climax astounded the whole world.\n\nAt first she reasoned with the voices, telling them \"she was but a poor\ngirl, who knew nothing of men or war.\" But the voices replied, \"Go and\nsave France; God will be with you, and you have nothing to fear.\"\n\nDuring three years she listened to these voices, which made themselves\nheard by her two or three times each week. She seemed consumed by an\ninward fever, and strange words escaped her. One day she said to a\nlaborer, that \"midway between Coussi and Vaucouleurs there lived a maid\nwho should bring the dauphin to his throne.\"\n\nThese words were repeated to her father and they alarmed him; and we\ncannot wonder that they did. How could he think otherwise than that his\nlittle girl was losing her senses? How could he dream of the divine and\nsuperhuman powers that had descended upon her from a higher world? He\ntold her brother that if Joan should attempt to follow the army, as he\nfeared she might, \"he would rather drown her with his own hands.\" Her\nparents set a watch upon her movements, and decided to marry her to a\nyoung man who was secretly enamored of her. They connived with this\nadmirer to swear before an officer of the law that Joan had promised him\nher heart; but she so strenuously denied the assertion before the judge\nthat she gained her case.\n\nJust at this epoch the people of Domremy were obliged to fly before an\ninvading troop of soldiers. When they returned to their village they\nfound their church burned and their homes pillaged. Joan regarded this\nas a direct punishment for her hesitation in heeding the \"voices.\" She\nwould hesitate no longer, and after repeated delays and disheartening\nrebuffs, she succeeded in winning her way, with a few believers in her\nmission, to the king's castle.\n\nWhen Charles finally consented to an interview, he disguised one of his\ncourtiers as king, and he was disguised as a courtier; but Joan was not\ndeceived by clothing; she fell at his feet, clasped his knees, and\nexclaimed, \"Gentle king, God has taken pity on you and your people; the\nangels are on their knees praying for you and them.\"\n\nThe king was impressed with her lofty enthusiasm, and plied her with\nquestions. Her responses astonished him. One reliable authority tells us\nthat she revealed to him something known only to himself--and answered a\nquestion which he had that day demanded of God in the privacy of\nprayer--the question of his legitimate right to the throne. Joan told\nhim that he had asked this question of God, and that she was able to\nreply to it in the affirmative.\n\nThe king was so astonished and overjoyed at this proof of the maiden's\npowers, that he expressed belief in her divine mission; but he quickly\nrelapsed into doubt again, and Joan was obliged to endure a very\ncritical examination before a parliament, where she confused and\nconfounded the learned doctors by her simple words: \"I know not A or B,\nbut I am commanded by my voices to raise the siege of Orleans and crown\nthe dauphin at Rheims.\" When one aggressive doctor, with a bad accent,\nasked sarcastically; \"what language her voices spoke,\" she replied,\n\"Better than yours, sir,\" which brought the laughter of the whole\nparliament upon him. A messenger sent to Domremy, to ascertain the early\nconduct of the maid, returned with accounts of her piety and\nbenevolence. All this worked in her favor, together with the strong\nfaith which the masses reposed in her; for the people remembered the old\nprophecy and believed that the maiden had come to deliver France.\n\nEven the doctors of theology were affected by this prophecy, and the\nresult was the final equipment of Joan for battle. When arrayed in a\nknight's armor she refused to accept a sword. \"The voices told me,\" she\nsaid, \"that in the church vault at Fierbois there lies a sword marked\nwith five crosses which I must carry, and no other.\"\n\nA messenger was sent, who found the sword exactly as she had described\nit. This naturally swelled the faith of the people in her divine\nmission. She ordered a white banner made, covered with the lilies of\nFrance, and with the inscription, \"Jesus Maria,\" emblazoned upon it. At\nthe end of two months she entered the town of Blois, where the army was\nstationed, seated upon a fine horse, her head bare, her dark curls\nstreaming in the wind, an air of triumph and joy on her face. Six\nthousand soldiers were drawn up to receive her. But the pleasure-loving\nyoung dauphin, be it said to his shame, was enjoying himself in his\ncastle and was not there to meet her. Nothing had yet been decided about\nthe position Joan was to occupy, but the wild enthusiasm of the army at\nonce made her its leader.\n\nThe very first act of this pure being was an attempt to uplift the moral\nstatus of the army. Women of evil repute were sent away with good\nadvice, and the men were called to battle by prayer and confession.\nCoarse soldiers followed her to mass, fascinated by her peculiar spell,\nand rough language was silenced in her presence. Remarkable as has\nseemed Joan's career up to this point, it was simple compared to the\nmiracles which ensued. Modest as the simplest maiden in private life,\ngentle as a child in all matters pertaining to herself, utterly devoid\nof self-seeking interests, she was yet enabled to plan campaigns, direct\nattacks and lead armies with all the skill of any world-renowned\ngeneral. In the dead of night, with a band of 200 men, she entered the\nbeleaguered city of Orleans in the face of the English enemy. The\ninhabitants crowded about her, regarding her rightly with wonder and\nawe. Her first act was to hasten to a cathedral where the Te Deum was\nbeing chanted by torch-light. She then selected her home with a lady of\nspotless reputation, in order that all her hours of repose might be\nguarded from suspicions of evil. The following day she directed a letter\nof warning to be sent to the English, urging them to retreat before\ncompelled to do so by the \"fire of Heaven.\" She then reconnoitred the\ncity, determining in her mind where to begin the attack; and as she saw\nno signs that the English had taken heed of her letter, she finally\nmounted the walls of the town, and in a loud voice warned the English to\ndepart before overtaken with the shame and disaster in store for them.\nTo this the English responded with insults and ribald words, and told\nher to \"Go home and keep her cows.\" Joan wept at their insults to her\nmodesty, and would have at once opened an attack, had she not been\ndissuaded by her generals, who begged her to await the arrival of her\narmy.\n\nDespite their bold words, the English were so influenced by Joan's\npeculiar power, that they allowed her army to enter Orleans with a\nconvoy of provisions, and made no resistance. They seemed to be\nparalyzed with fear, and many of them expressed a belief that she was\naided by the devil. Although the maid was immensely popular with the\narmy, a lurking secret jealousy of her was already at work in the\nbreasts of some of her officers; and these men chose an hour when she\nwas taking a brief repose, to open an attack upon the English, hoping to\ntake the glory of a conquest to themselves. But Joan's Voices awoke her,\nand told her the blood of France was being spilled; and seizing her\nwhite banner, she mounted her horse, and rushed into the strife, turning\nthe tide of battle at once in favor of the French army, which had\nalready suffered loss. Wherever the white flag was seen, a superhuman\nstrength seemed to take possession of the men; and after a fierce battle\nof three hours, the bastile of St. Loup was won by the French.\n\nThe bastile des Augustins fell next, and here Joan was slightly wounded\nin the foot; but she resolved to attack the only remaining hold of the\nEnglish the following day. Her officers counselled together and reported\nthemselves unfavorable to this project, as the bastile des Tournelles\nwas very strong, and filled with the bravest of the English army. But\nJoan replied, \"I, too, have been at council with God, and we shall fight\nto-morrow.\"\n\nThey did fight, the English with fury, the French \"as if they believed\nthemselves immortal.\" After three hours of warfare Joan saw her men\nhesitate under the fierce attack of the enemy. She seized a ladder,\nplanted it against a wall, and began to ascend it. At that moment an\nEnglish arrow struck her between the neck and shoulder, and she fell to\nthe ground. The disheartened soldiers bore her from the field, and\ndressed her wound, from which she extracted the arrow with her own hand,\nshedding womanly tears meanwhile. After the wound was dressed, a vision\ncame to her, and with sudden strength she remounted her horse and rode\nback to battle.\n\nThe English, believing her nearly dead from her wound, were terrified to\nsee her return, and lost courage from that moment; while the French,\nelectrified by her unexpected presence, fought with such zeal that\nbefore nightfall the maid led her army into Orleans crowned with\ntriumph. It was only seven days since she had entered the city, and Joan\nhad already verified her assertion that she could and would \"raise the\nsiege of Orleans.\"\n\nThe indolent and unworthy dauphin, however, refused to go to Rheims and\nbe crowned and so fulfil the second part of Joan's mission. He said\nthere were ports along the Loire which needed to be taken first so the\ngirl general laid out her campaign and added Beaugency and Jargeau to\nher other conquests. The English had become filled with superstitious\nfear of her power, attributing it to the devil. But the Dauphin of\nFrance still dallied with light women in his castle, and treated Joan\nwith coldness and suspicion. The army now became so unanimous in the\ndesire that the king should go to Rheims, that he finally, with\nreluctance, consented. On July 16th, after having taken Troyes and\nChalons on the way, the French army entered Rheims; and there, on the\nfollowing day, the dauphin was anointed with holy oil and received the\ncrown of France.\n\nHappy, but modest and humble in her happiness, rejoicing only in the\nprosperity of the king and the country, the sublime saviour of her land\nknelt before her sovereign after the ceremonies were concluded and said,\n\"Gentle king, I wish now that I might return toward my father and my\nmother, to keep my flocks and my herds as heretofore.\" Alas for the\nhappiness of the poor girl and the honor of two countries, that her\nrequest was not granted!\n\nJoan's father was present on this occasion, and the inn where he lodged\nat the king's expense, and the cathedral where the dauphin was crowned,\nstill exist in Rheims.\n\n[Illustration: Joan of Arc.]\n\nDuring all Joan's life as a soldier and general, she exhibited a most\ntouching humanity toward the conquered enemy. She would spring from her\nhorse to sooth the wounds of a suffering English soldier, and it is\nrecorded of her that she carried a dying enemy in her arms to a\nconfessor, and remained with him till his soul took flight. The people\nadored her, the soldiers of her army idolized her, and the king realized\nthat she was of too great value to him to permit her to go in peace to\nher old humble home. So Joan remained, asking that the king would\nremove all impost from the village of Domremy, in place of bestowing a\ntitle upon her family as he offered to do. For three hundred years her\nrequest was obeyed. From this time to the tragic end, the story of\nJoan's life is a hard one to relate. Although we are nearing the fifth\ncentennial of her birth, the recital of her sufferings and death must\nstill wring tears from every heart which is not made of stone. The\nfeeling of jealousy which great success, of even the most worthy and\nnoble souls, arouses in meaner natures, had already sprung up against\nJoan. This feeling increased as the days passed by and she added more\nand more to her glory by the conquest of Laon, Soissons, Compiegne, and\nBeauvais. Paris was next besieged, and here Joan was seriously wounded,\nan event which depressed the king and the army.\n\nHer wound disabled her from action, and she was left lying on the field\nuntil evening, neglected, and seemingly forgotten. Already conscious of\nthe growing sentiment of jealousy among her officers, this final proof\nof their indifference to her fate must have been more painful to her\npure and lofty mind than the physical agony she was enduring. But even\nlying there, wounded, she cheered on the men as they passed her in the\ncombat, and revived their failing courage.\n\nShe was enabled to resume action the next day; her plans were all\nperfected, and judging from her past triumphs we can but suppose victory\nwould have attended her, had not that most remarkable mandate arrived\nfrom the king, commanding the French army to retreat to Saint-Denis.\n\nTo the undying shame of his memory be it said that Charles VII. entered\ninto a plot, with jealous enemies of Joan, to force failure upon her.\nThe people and the soldiers had grown to believe her infallible; the\nking and his favorites determined that she should be proven fallible.\nThey deemed the country sufficiently safe, the army sufficiently strong,\nto enable them to go on now and claim victories of their own, without\nhaving their divine deliverer share the glory.\n\nNext to the crime of Isabel, who sold her son and her country to the\nenemy, this base act of Charles VII. stands unparalleled in infamy. So\ndiscouraged and heart-broken was Joan over the conduct of the king,\nalthough she did not understand the deep-laid plot against her, that she\nresolved to abandon the life of a soldier and enter the church of\nSaint-Denis. She hung up her armor and her sword, but when the king\nheard of this he sent for her to return to the army. He was not yet sure\nof himself, and he wanted her where he could call upon her if need be.\n\nJoan returned with reluctance; \"her Voices\" counselled her to keep to\nher resolution; but she was so accustomed to obey the king, that for the\nfirst time she allowed an earthly voice to overrule the counsels of her\nheavenly guides. And from this hour her star set; from this hour her\npath led into darkness. Soon after her return to the army she broke the\nmagic sword with which she had achieved so many conquests; the Voices,\ntoo, were silent, and all this troubled her. The king kept her away from\nall active warfare, and she grew restive and impatient with her life of\ninaction. The army, which under her influence had been reformed of half\nits vices, now separated from her by the king's orders and fell into\nthe most wild excesses. Joan prayed and pleaded to be allowed to go\nagain into combat, and finally the king allowed her to do so; but such\nsuccess attended her, and such enthusiasm seized upon her soldiers, that\nthe jealous favorites of the king were alarmed. They resolved to prevent\nany further triumphs for her, but to pretend great friendship and\nadmiration meanwhile.\n\nThe king was influenced to bestow honors and titles upon her family, and\nto present her two brothers, who had fought in the army, with swords of\nsilver; all of which Joan received coldly and with indifference, for\nmeantime she was suffering such agony as only so brave and valiant a\nsoul could suffer in being kept from her duty.\n\nAfter four months of this galling life, Joan could not fail to see that\nshe was the victim of a jealous plot. What suffering to a nature so\nhonest and self-sacrificing as hers, to discover that the king for whom\nshe had achieved such miracles, was a coward and a hypocrite, unworthy\nof her respect and faith.\n\nBut it was surely this knowledge which actuated Joan to take a few brave\nmen, and without orders from the king, to go in aid of William de Flavy,\ncommander of the fortress of Compiegne, who was in distress. She set\nout, and on the evening of May 24th, headed an attack upon the English.\nShe fought nobly and well, but before the close of the combat, she was\nobliged to sound a retreat, and as she was attempting to escape through\nthe half-closed city gate, an English archer came up behind and pulled\nher to the ground.\n\nJoan of Arc was a prisoner. The joy of the English was overwhelming--the\ndespair of the French correspondingly great; and that despair gave place\nto anger when it was learned that William de Flavy, the man whom she had\ntried to defend, had betrayed her into the hands of the English because\nhe was jealous of her. This man's wife slew him when she learned of his\nbase act, and was pardoned for the crime when she told its cause. In all\nthe cities which Joan had delivered from English control, public prayers\nand processions were ordered; people walked barefooted and bareheaded,\nchanting the _Miserere_, in the streets of Tours. She was imprisoned\nfirst at Beaurevoir, then in the prison of Arras, and from there she was\ntaken to Le Crotoy.\n\nIt was customary in those days to exchange prisoners taken in arms, or\nto ransom them; but the English had suffered such loss and defeat\nthrough Joan that they determined she should die.\n\nTheir only way to do this without publicly dishonoring themselves, was\nto accuse her of being a witch, and to compel the \"religious\" tribunal\nof her own land to become her murderer.\n\nDuring the first six months of her captivity Joan was treated humanely;\nbut the defeat of the English at Compiegne awoke anew the superstitions\nof the English, who believed that, though a prisoner, she exercised her\nspell upon the army; and she was taken to Le Crotoy, and cast into an\niron cage with chains upon her wrists and ankles. After being starved,\ninsulted, and treated with the most hellish brutality in prison for\nnearly ten months, the saviour of France was brought before a tribunal\nof men, all of them her enemies. There were three days of this shameful\npretence of a trial, and the holy maid, deserted by those whom she had\ncrowned with glory and benefits, was trapped into signing a paper which\nshe supposed only a form of abjuration, but which proved to be a\nconfession of all the crimes with which she was charged; and after she\nwas returned to her dungeon this was exhibited to the people to convince\nthem of her guilt and turn the tide of public sympathy. The Bishop of\nBeauvais then sentenced her to prison for the rest of her life, on\ncondition that she resume woman's apparel; yet one morning she woke to\nfind no dress in her prison but the clothes she had worn in battle. No\nsooner had she donned these than the bishop appeared, and accused her of\ndisobedience to the orders of the Church, and he fixed her execution for\nthe next day.\n\nWhen the horrible fact was made known to her that she was to be burned\nat the stake in the market-place of Rouen, before a multitude of people,\nshe burst into piercing cries of agony. Her physical strength, courage,\nand brain-power were all impaired by the months of abuse she had\nendured, and her very soul was torn by the neglect and indifference\nwhich the base king manifested toward her. Up to the very last hour she\nhad believed deliverance would come, but it came only through death.\nNever since that spectacle of the bleeding Nazarene upon the Cross of\nCalvary, has the world beheld so terrible a picture of crucified\ninnocence and purity as that of Joan of Arc, the saviour of France,\nburning in the market-place of Rouen. With her dying breath she cried\nout that the Voices were real, and that she had obeyed God in listening\nto their counsels.\n\nHer last word was the name of--Jesus.\n\n[Signature: Ella Wheeler Wilcox.]\n\n\n\n\nHANS GUTENBERG\n\nBy ALPHONSE DE LAMARTINE\n\n(1400-1468)\n\n\nHans Gensfleisch Gutenberg von Sorgeloch was a young patrician--born at\nMainz, a free and wealthy city on the banks of the Rhine, in the year\n1400. His father, Friel Gensfleisch, married Else von Gutenberg, who\ngave her name to her second son John.\n\nIt is probable that if Mainz, his country, had not been a free city,\nthis young gentleman would have been unable to conceive or to carry into\nexecution his invention. Despotism and superstition equally insist upon\nsilence; they would have stifled the universal and resistless echo which\ngenius was about to create for written words. Printing and liberty were\nboth to spring from the same soil and the same climate.\n\n[Illustration: Hans Gutenberg.]\n\nMainz, Strasburg, Worms, and other municipal towns on the Rhine, then\ngoverned themselves, under the suzerainty of the empire, as small\nfederal republics, like Florence, Genoa, Venice, and the other states of\nItaly. The nobility warlike, the burgesses increasing in importance, and\nthe laboring population vacillating between these two classes, who\nalternately oppressed and courted it, from time to time, here as\neverywhere, fought for supremacy. Outbursts of civil war, excited by\nvanity or interest, and in which the victory remained sometimes with the\npatricians, sometimes with the burgesses, and at others with the\nartisans, made them alternately victors, conquered, and proscribed. This\nis the history of all cities, of all republics, and of all empires.\nMainz, was a miniature of Rome or Athens, only the proscribed party had\nnot the sea to cross to escape from their country; they went outside the\nwalls, and crossed the Rhine; those of Strasburg going to Mainz, and\nthose of Mainz to Strasburg, to wait until their party recovered power,\nor until they were recalled by their fellow-citizens.\n\nIn these intestine struggles of Mainz, the young Gutenberg, himself a\ngentleman, and naturally fighting for the cause most holy in a son's\neyes--that of his father--was defeated by the burgesses, and banished,\nwith all the knights of his family, from the territory of Mainz. His\nmother and sisters alone remained there in possession of their property,\nas innocent victims on whom the faults of the nobility should not be\nvisited. His first banishment was short, and peace was ratified by the\nreturn of the refugees. A vain quarrel about precedence in the public\nceremonies on the occasion of the solemn entry of the Emperor Robert,\naccompanied by the Archbishop Conrad, into Mainz, refreshed the\nanimosity of the two classes in 1420, and young Gutenberg, at the age of\nnineteen, under went his second exile.\n\nThe free city of Frankfort now offered itself as a mediator between the\nnobles and plebeians of Mainz, and procured their recall on condition of\nthe governing magistracy being equally shared between the high classes\nand the burgesses. But Gutenberg, whether his valor in the civil war had\nrendered him more obnoxious and more hostile to the burgesses; whether\nhis pride, fostered by the traditions of his race, could not submit\npatiently to an equality with plebeians; or whether, more probably, ten\nyears of exile and study at Strasburg had already turned the bent of his\nthoughts to a nobler subject than the vain honors of a free city,\nrefused to return to his country. His mother, who watched over her\nson's interest at Mainz, petitioned the republic to allow him to receive\nas a pension a small portion of the revenues of his confiscated\npossessions. The republic replied that the young patrician's refusal to\nreturn to his country was a declaration of war, and that the republic\ndid not pay its enemies. Gutenberg, persisting in his voluntary exile\nand in his disdain, lived on the secret remittances of his mother.\n\nBut at Strasburg he already enjoyed so great a popularity for his\ndisposition and his acquirements, that one day, when the chief\nmagistrate of Mainz was passing the territory of Strasburg, he was\narrested by the friends of Gutenberg, shut up in a castle, and did not\nrecover his liberty until the city of Mainz had signed a treaty which\nrestored the exile his patrimony. Thus this youth, the great tribune of\nthe human mind, whose invention was destined to destroy forever the\nprejudices of race, and to restore, in after-times, liberty and civil\nequality to all the plebeians of the world, began his life, as yet\nunrecognized, at the head of the patrician party of his country, in\nthese struggles between the privileged castes and the people. Fortune\nseemed to delight in the contrast. But Gutenberg's wisdom, increasing\nwith his age, was afterward destined to reunite the people and nobility,\nwho looked on each other as enemies.\n\nThe restoration of his goods allowed young Gutenberg to satisfy his\nliterary, religious, and artistic tastes, by travelling from town to\ntown to study monuments, and visit men of all conditions celebrated for\ntheir science, their art, or even their trade. The artisans of Germany\nthen held nearly the same rank as the artists. It was at the time when\nthe trades, scarcely known, were confused with the arts, and when the\nmost humble professions produced their earliest masterpieces, which, on\naccount of their novelty, were looked upon as prodigies. Gutenberg\ntravelled alone, on foot, carrying a knapsack containing books and\nclothes, like a mere student visiting the schools, or a journeyman\nlooking for a master. He thus went through the Rhenish provinces, Italy,\nSwitzerland, Germany, and lastly, Holland, not without an object, like a\nman who lets his imagination wander at the caprice of his footsteps, but\ncarrying everywhere with him a fixed idea, an unchanging will led by a\npresentiment. This guiding star was the thought of spreading the word of\nGod and the Bible among a vaster number of souls.\n\nThus it was religion which, in this young wandering apostle, was seeking\nthe soil wherein to sow a single seed, of which the fruit hereafter was\nto be a thousand various grains. It is the glory of printing that it was\ngiven to the world by religion, not by industry. Religious enthusiasm\nwas alone worthy to give birth to the instrument of truth.\n\nWhat mechanical processes Gutenberg may until then have revolved in his\nmind, remains unknown. Whatever they were, chance effaced them all, and\nbrought him at once upon his great discovery. One day, at Haarlem, in\nHolland, the verger of the cathedral, named Lawrence Koster, with whom\nhe had established friendly relations, showed him in the sacristy a\nLatin grammar, curiously wrought in engraved letters on a wooden board,\nfor the instruction of the seminarists. Chance, that gratuitous teacher,\nhad produced this approach to printing.\n\nThe poor and youthful sacristan of Haarlem was in love. He used to walk\non holydays to the spring outside the town, and sit under the willows by\nthe canals, to indulge in his day-dreams. His heart full of the image of\nhis bride, he used to amuse himself, in true lover's fashion, by\nengraving with his knife the initials of his mistress and himself,\ninterlaced, as an emblem of the union of their hearts and of their\ninterwoven destinies. But, instead of cutting these ciphers on the bark,\nand leaving them to grow with the tree, like the mysterious ciphers so\noften seen on the trees in the forests and by the brooks, he engraved\nthem on little blocks of willow stripped of their bark, and still\nreeking with the moisture of their sap; and he used to carry them, as a\nremembrance of his dreams and a pledge of affection, to his lady-love.\n\nOne day, having thus cut some letters on the green wood, probably with\nmore care and perfection than usual, he wrapped up his little work in a\npiece of parchment, and brought it with him to Haarlem. On opening it\nnext day to look at his letters, he was astonished to see the cipher\nperfectly reproduced in brown on the parchment by the relieved portion\nof the letters, the sap having oozed out during the night and imprinted\nits image on the envelope. This was a discovery. He engraved other\nletters on a large platter, replaced the sap by a black liquid, and thus\nobtained the first proof ever printed. But it would only print a single\npage. The movable variety and endless combinations of characters\ninfinitely multiplied, to meet the vast requirements of literature, were\nwanting. The invention of the poor sacristan would have covered the\nsurface of the earth with plates engraved or sculptured in relief, but\nwould not have been a substitute for a single case of movable type.\nNevertheless, the principle of the art was developed in the sacristy of\nHaarlem, and we might hesitate whether to attribute the honor of it to\nKoster or Gutenberg, if its invention had not been with one the mere\naccidental discovery of love and chance, and, in the other, the\nwell-earned victory of patience and genius.\n\nAt the sight of this coarse plank, the lightning from heaven flashed\nbefore the eyes of Gutenberg. He looked at the plank, and, in his\nimagination, analyzed it, decomposed it, put it together again, changed\nit, divided it, readjusted it, reversed it, smeared it with ink, placed\nthe parchment on it, and pressed it with a screw. The sacristan,\nwondering at his long silence, was unwittingly present at this\ndevelopment of an idea over which his visitor had brooded in vain for\nthe last ten years. When Gutenberg retired, he carried a new art with\nhim.\n\nOn the morrow, like a man who possesses a treasure, and knows neither\nrest nor sleep until he has hidden it safely, Gutenberg left Haarlem,\nhastened up the Rhine until he reached Strasburg, shut himself up in his\nwork-room, fashioned his own tools, tried, broke, planned, rejected,\nreturned to his plans, and again rejected them, only to return to them\nagain; and ended by secretly executing a fortunate proof upon parchment\nwith movable wooden types, bored through the side with a small hole,\nstrung together and kept close by a thread, like square beads on a\nchaplet, each with a letter of the alphabet cut in relief on one\nside--the first printer's alphabet, coarse, but wonderful--the first\ncompany of twenty-four letters, which multiplied like the herds of the\npatriarchs, until at last they covered the whole earth with written\ncharacters, in which a new and immaterial element--human thought--became\nincarnate.\n\nGutenberg, perceiving at the first glance the immense social and\nindustrial bearing of his invention, felt that his weak hand, short\nlife, and moderate property would be spent in vain on such a work. He\nexperienced two opposite wants--the necessity of associating with\nhimself persons to assist in meeting the expenses and in executing the\nmechanical labor, and the necessity of concealing from his assistants\nthe secret and real object of their labors, for fear lest his invention\nmight be divulged and pirated, and the glory and merit of his discovery\ntaken from him. He cast his eyes on the nobility and rich gentry of his\nacquaintance at Strasburg and Mainz. He probably met with rebuffs from\nall quarters, on account of the prejudice then prevailing that\nhandicrafts were derogatory to a gentleman. He was, therefore, obliged\nto sink his rank, become a workman, associate with artisans, and mix\nwith the people, in order to raise the people to the high level of\nmorality and intelligence.\n\nUnder the pretence of working together at _a new and marvellous craft_,\nsuch as jewelry, clock-making, and grinding and setting precious stones,\nhe entered into a deed of partnership with two wealthy inhabitants of\nStrasburg, Andrew Dritzchen and Hans Riffe, bailiff of Lichtenau; and\nafterward with Faust, a goldsmith and banker of Mainz, whose name,\nconfounded with that of Faustus, the wondrous sorcerer of German fable,\nthe master of mystery, and the friend of the Evil One, caused the\ninvention of printing to be attributed to magic; and, lastly, with\nHulmann, whose brother had just established the first paper-mill at\nStrasburg.\n\nIn order the more effectually to conceal from his partners the real\nobject of his pursuit, Gutenberg joined them in several artistic and\nsecondary enterprises. Continuing in secret his mechanical researches on\nprinting, he employed himself publicly in these other occupations. He\ntaught Dritzchen the art of cutting precious stones. He himself polished\nVenetian glass for mirrors, or cut pieces of it into facets, setting\nthem in copper frames ornamented with wooden figurines representing\npersonages from history or fable, from the Bible or the Testament. These\narticles, which found sale at the fair of Aix-la-Chapelle, kept up the\nfunds of the association, and assisted Gutenberg in the secret expenses\nreserved for accomplishing and perfecting his design.\n\nTo conceal it the better also from the restless curiosity of the public,\nwho began to circulate a suspicion of witchcraft against him, Gutenberg\nleft the town, and established his workshop in the ruins of an old\ndeserted monastery, called the Convent of St. Arbogast. The solitude of\nthe place, only inhabited by the houseless poor of the suburbs, covered\nhis first attempts.\n\nIn a corner of one of the vast cloisters of the monastery, occupied by\nhis partners for their less secret labors, Gutenberg had reserved for\nhimself a cell, always closed with lock and bolt, and to which none but\nhimself ever had access. He was supposed to go there to draw the\ndesigns, arabesques, and figurines for his jewelry and the frames of his\nglasses; but he passed his days and sleepless nights there, wearing\nhimself out in the pursuit of his invention. There it was that he\nengraved his movable types in wood, and projected casting them in metal,\nand studied hard to find the means of inclosing them in _forms_, whether\nof wood or of iron, to make the types into words, phrases, and lines,\nand to leave spaces on the paper. There it was that he invented colored\nmediums, oleaginous and yet drying, to reproduce these characters,\nbrushes and dabbers to spread the ink on the letters, boards to hold\nthem, and screws and weights to compress them. Months and years were\nspent, as well as his own fortune and the funds of the firm, in these\npersevering experiments, with alternate success and disappointment.\n\nAt length, having made a model of a press, which seemed to him to\ncombine all the requirements of printing, according to his ideas at that\ntime, he concealed it under his cloak, and walking to the town, went to\na skilful turner in wood and metal, named Conrad Saspach, who lived in\nthe Mercer's Lane, asking him to make the machine of full size. He\nrequested the workman to keep it secret, merely telling him that it was\na machine by the help of which he proposed to produce some masterpieces\nof art and mechanism, of which the marvels should be known in due time.\n\nThe turner, taking the model in his hands, and turning it backward and\nforward with the smile of contempt that a skilful artist usually puts on\nwhen looking at a rough specimen, said, somewhat scornfully, \"But it is\njust simply a press that you are asking me for, Master Hans!\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Gutenberg, with a grave and enthusiastic tone, \"it is a\npress, certainly, but a press from which shall soon flow in\ninexhaustible streams the most abundant and most marvellous liquor that\nhas ever flowed to relieve the thirst of man! Through it God will spread\nhis Word. A spring of pure truth shall flow from it; like a new star, it\nshall scatter the darkness of ignorance, and cause a light heretofore\nunknown to shine among men.\" He retired. The turner, who understood not\nthese words, made the machine, and delivered it at the monastery of\nArbogast.\n\nThis was the first printing-press.\n\nAs soon as he was in possession of his press, Gutenberg began printing.\nLittle is known of the first works which he sent out; but the strongly\nreligious disposition of the inventor leaves no doubt concerning the\nnature of the labors to which he devoted the first-fruits of his art.\nThey were, to a certainty, religious books. The art invented for the\nsake of God, and by his inspiration, began with his worship. His later\npublications at Mainz are a proof of it; the divine songs of the\nPsalmist, and the celebrated Latin Bible, were the first works issued at\nMainz from the machine invented by Gutenberg, and applied to the use of\nthe most sacred powers of man, lyrical praise of his Maker, and\nlamentation for the woes of earth. Under the hands of this pious and\nunfortunate man, praise and prayer were the first voices of the press.\nThe press ought ever to be proud of it.\n\n[Illustration: Gutenberg's Invention.]\n\nBut great tribulation awaited him after his triumph. We have seen that\nthe necessity of procuring funds obliged him to take partners. The\nnecessity that subsequently arose of getting assistance for the\nmultifarious labor of a great printing establishment obliged him to\nconfide his occupation, and even the secret of his process, to his\npartners and to a number of workmen. His partners, tired of supplying\nfunds to an enterprise which, for want of perfection, was not then\nremunerative, refused to persevere in the ungrateful occupation.\nGutenberg begged them not to abandon him at the very moment that fortune\nand glory were within his grasp. They consented to make fresh advances,\nbut only on condition of sharing completely his secret, his profits, his\nproperty, and his fame.\n\nHe sold his fame to procure success to his work. The name of Gutenberg\ndisappeared. The firm absorbed the inventor, who soon became a mere\nworkman in his own workshop. It was a parallel to the case of\nChristopher Columbus brought back in irons on board his own vessel, by a\ncrew to whom he had opened a new world.\n\nThis was not all. The heirs of one of the partners brought an action\nagainst him to contest his invention, his property, and his right of\ncarrying on the work. They compelled him to appear before the judges at\nStrasburg, to make him submit to some more complete and more legal\nspoliation than the voluntary abandonment he had himself acknowledged.\nHis perplexity before the court was extreme. To justify himself, it was\nnecessary to enter into all the technical details of his art, which he\ndid not as yet wish to make completely public, reserving to himself, at\nleast, the secret of his hopes. The judges, being inquisitive, pressed\nhim with insidious questions, the answers to which would have exposed\nthe secret of all his processes. He evaded them, preferring an adverse\ndecision to the publication of his art. To succeed in penetrating the\nsecret of the discovery which filled people's imaginations, the judges\nsummoned his most confidential workmen, and required them to give\nevidence of what they knew. These men, simple-minded, yet faithful and\nstrongly attached to Gutenberg, refused to reveal anything. Their\nmaster's secret was safer in their hearts than in the breasts of his\nmore grasping associates. None of the great mysteries of the art\ntranspired. Gutenberg, ruined, condemned, perhaps banished, retired\nalone and in poverty to Mainz, his native place, to recommence his\nlabors and begin his life and fame anew.\n\nHe was still young, and the report of his lawsuit at Strasburg had made\nhis fame known all over Germany, but he returned a workman to a city\nwhich he had quitted as a knight. Humiliation, poverty, and glory\ncontended with each other in his fate and in the behavior of his\nfellow-citizens. Love alone recognized him for what he had been, and for\nwhat he was one day to become.\n\nOn his return to Mainz, having been relieved from degradation and ruin\nby the woman he loved, as Mohammed was by his first wife, Gutenberg gave\nhimself entirely up to his art, entered into partnership with Faust and\nSchoeffer, Faust's son-in-law; established offices at Mainz, and\npublished, still under the name of the firm, Bibles and Psalters, of\nremarkable perfection of type.\n\nSchoeffer had for a long time carried on the business of a scrivener,\nand a trade in manuscripts in Paris. His travels, and his intimacy with\nthe artists of that town, had made him acquainted with mechanical\nprocesses for working in metals, which he adapted, on his return to\nMainz, to the art of printing. These new means enabled him to cast\nmovable leaden types in a copper matrix, with greater precision than\nbefore, and thus to give great neatness to the letters. It was by this\nnew process that the Psalter, the first book bearing a date, was printed\nin 1457. Soon afterward the Mainz Bible, recognized as a masterpiece of\nart, was produced under the direction of Gutenberg, from types founded\nby Peter Schoeffer's process.\n\nThe tendency of the new art, which began by cheapening sacred books\nunder the auspices of the Church alone, escaped, during the first years\nof its existence, the notice of the Roman court, which saw an auxiliary\nin what it afterward considered as an opponent.\n\n\"Among the number of blessings which we ought to praise God for having\nvouchsafed during your pontificate,\" says a dedication in the time of\nPaul II., \"is this invention, which enables the poorest to procure\nlibraries at a low price. Is it not a great glory to your Holiness, that\nvolumes which used to cost _one hundred pieces of gold_ are now to be\nbought for four, or even less, and that the fruits of genius, heretofore\nthe prey of the worms and buried in dust, begin under your reign to\narise from the dead, and to multiply profusely over all the earth?\"\n\nMeanwhile, Faust the banker, and Schoeffer the workman, Gutenberg's new\npartners, were not long in giving way, like his former partner, one\nMentel or Metelin at Strasburg, to the temptation of absorbing by\ndegrees Gutenberg's glory, the most tempting of all possessions, because\nof its immortality. Like many others, they hoped to deceive posterity,\nif not their own contemporaries. After recognizing, in the Epistle\nDedicatory prefixed to the German translation of Livy, printed by Hans\nSchoeffer, and addressed to the Emperor Maximilian, \"that the art of\nprinting was invented at Mainz by that sublime mechanician Hans von\nGutenberg,\" they forgot this confession, and seven years later assumed\nto themselves all the merit and honor of the discovery.\n\nA short time afterward, the Emperor Maximilian, erecting the printers\nand compositors into a species of intellectual priesthood, relieved them\nby the nobility of their occupation from all degradation of rank. He\nennobled the art and the artists together; he authorized them to wear\nrobes embroidered with gold and silver, which nobles only had a right to\nwear, and gave them for armorial bearings an eagle with his wings spread\nover a globe, a symbol of the flight of written thoughts, and of its\nconquest of the world.\n\nBut Gutenberg was no longer upon earth to enjoy the possession of that\nintellectual world, religious and political, of which he had only had a\nglimpse, like Moses, in the vision of his dream in the monastery of St.\nArbogast. Despoiled by his partners of his property and of his fame;\nexpelled again, and for the last time, from his country by poverty, his\nonly consolation being that he was followed by his wife, who remained\nfaithful through all his troubles; deprived by death of all his\nchildren; advanced in years, without bread, and soon afterward, by his\nwife's decease, a widower, he was received by the Elector of Nassau,\nthe generous Adolphus. The elector created him his counsellor of state\nand chamberlain, in order to enjoy in an honorable familiarity the\nconversation of this surpassing genius, who was afterward to hold\nconverse with all times and all places. This shelter afforded to\nGutenberg sheds everlasting lustre on Nassau and its prince. We meet in\nhistory with instances where a generous hospitality has given happiness\nand immortal fame to the most insignificant potentates and to the\nsmallest of states.\n\nGutenberg continued printing with his own hands, at Nassau, under the\neyes of his Maecenas, the elector, during several years of peace and\nquiet. He died at the age of sixty-eight, leaving his sister no\ninheritance, but bequeathing to the world the empire of the human mind,\ndiscovered and achieved by a workman.\n\n\"I bequeath,\" he says in his will, \"to my sister all the books which I\nprinted at the monastery of St. Arbogast.\" The poor inventor's only\nlegacy to his surviving relative was the common property of almost all\ninventors like himself--wasted youth, a persecuted life, a name\naspersed, toil, watchings, and the oblivion of his contemporaries.\n\n\n\n\nWILLIAM CAXTON\n\n(1412-1491)\n\n[Illustration: William Caxton.]\n\n\nWilliam Caxton, to whom England owes the introduction of printing, was\nborn, according to his own statement, in the Weald of Kent. Of the date\nof his birth nothing is known with certainty, though Oldys places it in\n1412. Lewis and Oldys suppose that between his fifteenth and eighteenth\nyears he was put apprentice to one Robert Large, a mercer or merchant of\nconsiderable eminence, who was afterward, successively, sheriff and lord\nmayor of London, and who upon his death, in 1441, remembered Caxton in\nhis will by a legacy of 20 marks. Caxton at this time had become a\nfreeman of the Company of Mercers. His knowledge of business, however,\ninduced him, either upon his own account or as agent of some merchant,\nto travel to the Low Countries for a short time. In 1464 we find him\njoined in a commission with one Robert Whitehill, to continue and\nconfirm a treaty of trade and commerce between Edward IV. and Philip,\nDuke of Burgundy; or if they find it necessary, to make a new one. They\nare styled in it ambassadors and special deputies. This commission at\nleast affords a proof that Caxton had acquired a reputation for\nknowledge of business. Seven years afterward Caxton describes himself as\nleading a life of ease, when, \"having no great charge or occupation,\" he\nset about finishing the translation of Raoul le Fevre's \"Recueil des\nHistoires de Troye,\" which he had commenced two years before, in 1469.\nThe original was the first book he printed, and this translation the\nthird. Of Caxton's pursuits and travels abroad, we know little more than\nthat in his peregrinations he confined himself, for the most part, to\nthe countries of Brabant, Flanders, Holland, and Zealand, and finally\nentered into the service, or at least the household, of Margaret,\nDuchess of Burgundy, who encouraged him to finish his translation of Le\nFevre's \"History of Troy,\" assisted him with her criticisms upon his\nEnglish, and amply rewarded him upon the completion of his labor. From\nthe prologues and epilogues of this work we discover that he was now\nsomewhat advanced in years, and that he had learnt to exercise the art\nof printing, but by what step he had acquired this knowledge cannot be\ndiscovered; his types only show that he acquired it in the Low\nCountries. He does not appear to have seen any of the beautiful\nproductions of the Roman, Venetian, and Parisian presses before he had\ncaused his own font of letters to be cut.\n\nThe original of Raoul's \"History,\" the \"Oration of John Russell on\nCharles, Duke of Burgundy, being created a Knight of the Garter,\" and\nthe \"Translation\" of Raoul, were, as far as we know, Caxton's first\nthree works; the last finished in 1471. A \"Stanza,\" by Wynkyn de Worde,\nnotices an edition of \"Bartholomoeus, de Proprietatibus Rerum,\" as\nprinted by Caxton at Cologne (about 1470), but the actual existence of\nthis edition is unknown. Nor has more certain information yet been\nobtained of the exact period of Caxton's return to his native country.\nThe usual supposition has been that he brought the art of printing into\nEngland in 1474, and this date is indicated by the figures which are\nunited in the centre of his device as a printer. In 1477, however, he\nhad undoubtedly quitted the Low Countries and taken up his residence in\nthe vicinity of Westminster Abbey, where and in which year he printed\nhis \"Dictes and Sayings of the Philosophers.\" Stowe says he first\nexercised his business in an old chapel near the entrance of the abbey;\nbut a very curious placard, a copy of which, in Caxton's largest type,\nis now at Oxford in the late Mr. Douce's library, shows that he printed\nin the Almonry. It is as follows: \"If it plese any man spirituel or\ntemporel to bye ony Pyes of two and thre comemoracions of Salisburi vse\nemprynted, after the forme of this present lettre whiche ben wel and\ntruly correct, late hym come to Westmonester in to the Almonesrye at the\nreed pole and he shal have them good chepe. Supplico stet cedula.\"\nAccording to Bagford, Caxton's office was afterward removed to King\nStreet.\n\n[Illustration: The First Sheet from Caxton's Press.]\n\nFrom the evidence of Wynkyn de Worde, in the colophon of his edition of\n\"Vitae Patrum,\" 1495, it appears that these \"Lives of the Fathers\" were\n\"translated out of French into English by William Caxton, of\nWestminster, lately dead,\" and that he finished the work \"at the last\nday of his life.\" His death, however, seems fixed, by two or three\nentries in the parish accounts of St. Margaret, Westminster, to the\nyear 1491 or 1492, in which we read, \"Item: atte bureyng of William\nCaxton for iiij, torches vj^s viij^d. Item: for the belle at same\nBureyng vj^d.\" Wynkyn de Worde no doubt referred to this time.\n\nCaxton, Mr. Warton observes, by translating, or procuring to be\ntranslated, a great number of books from the French, greatly contributed\nto promote the state of literature in England. In regard to his types,\nMr. Dibdin says he appears to have made use of five distinct sets, or\nfonts, of letters, which, in his account of Caxton's works, he has\nengraved plates in fac-simile. Edward Rowe Mores, in his \"Dissertation\nupon English Typographical Founders and Foundries,\" says Caxton's letter\nwas originally of the sort called Secretary, and of this he had two\nfonts; afterward he came nearer to the English face, and had three fonts\nof Great Primer, a rude one which he used anno 1474, another something\nbetter, and a third cut about 1482; one of Double Pica, good, which\nfirst appears 1490; and one of Long Primer, at least nearly agreeing\nwith the bodies which have since been called by those names. All of\nCaxton's works were printed in what are called black letter.\n\n\n\n\nCHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS[9]\n\n         [Footnote 9: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess.]\n\nBy A. R. SPOFFORD, LL.D.\n\n(1436-1506)\n\n[Illustration: Christopher Columbus.]\n\n\nThe discovery and the discoverer of America have furnished an almost\ninexhaustible theme for the critic, the biographer, and the historian.\nIn the year 1892 there was celebrated an event which has come by common\nconsent to be regarded as a world-famous epoch, worthy to be held in\neverlasting remembrance. We commemorated the man whose discovery almost\ndoubled the extent of the habitable globe.\n\nThe life, the voyages, the brilliant triumphs, and the mournful end of\nColumbus are already familiar to most readers. To recount them at length\nwould be here a needless repetition. Let us rather attempt to glance at\nsome of the historic disputes involving the character and acts of the\ngreat discoverer, to sketch briefly the sources of information about\nhim, and to characterize some of the more important writings upon the\nsubject.\n\nThere is no lack of biographical material concerning the discoverer of\nAmerica. He has left memorials of his personality and life-history more\nabundant than most of the men who have influenced their age. There are\nmore than sixty authentic letters of Columbus in existence. There are\nlong narratives of his expeditions and discoveries, by persons who knew\nhim more or less intimately. There is an extended biography of him\nwritten by his own son, Ferdinand Columbus, or from materials furnished\nby him. There are numerous documents and state papers authenticating his\nacts, his privileges, and his dignities. And yet, with all the wealth of\nmaterial, so copious upon his character and his career, it would seem,\nfrom recent developments, that the true discoverer of America is yet to\nbe discovered.\n\nAmong the many lives of Columbus that have been written, there exist\nsome twenty-five in the English language. Of these two or three only\nhave any historical or critical value. The mass of biographies, both\nEnglish and American, are mere echoes or abridgments, in other forms of\nlanguage, of the great work of Washington Irving, first published in\n1828. This book was written in Spain, and based upon collections of\ndocuments (manuscript and printed) not previously used by biographers.\nHence its value as the most copious and systematic life of Columbus\nwhich had appeared in any language. The finished and graceful style\nwhich characterizes all the works of its accomplished author gave it a\nhigh place in literature, which it has maintained for more than half a\ncentury, being constantly reprinted.\n\nNext in point of time to Irving, though treating Columbus with less\nfulness of detail, came the polished historian Prescott, whose \"History\nof Ferdinand and Isabella\" was published in 1837. This ardent and\nlaborious scholar was, like Irving, constitutionally inclined to the\noptimistic view of his leading characters. To magnify the virtues and to\nminimize the faults of their heroes has always been the besetting sin of\nbiographers. The pomp and picturesque circumstance of the Spanish court,\nthe splendid administrative abilities of Ferdinand, the beauty,\namiability, and devoted piety of Isabella, are depicted in glowing\ncolors, but the crimes and cruelties which they sanctioned, while\ncondemned upon one page, are softly extenuated upon others. Columbus\nappears as a romantic figure in history, the glory of whose successful\ndiscovery atones for his many failings.\n\nOf the original sources of information about Columbus the most important\nare:\n\n1. The great collection of original documents printed in Spanish by\nNavarrete, in 1825-37, in five volumes, and partly reprinted in a French\ntranslation in 1828. These contain the precious letters of Columbus,\nmany of which have been translated and recently published in English.\n\n2. The \"Historia general de las Indias,\" of Oviedo, first published in\n1535.\n\n3. The \"Historia de las Indias,\" of the Spanish Bishop Las Casas,\ncomposed in 1527 to 1561, which remained in manuscript until 1875, when\nit was printed from the original Spanish.\n\n4. The \"Letters and the Decades of Peter Martyr,\" written in part\ncontemporaneously with the discovery of America, and printed in Latin in\n1530, and in English in 1555.\n\n5. The \"Historia de las Reyes Catolicos,\" of Andres Bernaldez.\n\n6. The \"Life of the Discoverer,\" by Ferdinand Columbus, first published\nin 1571 at Venice, in Italian.\n\nThe last five writers had personal knowledge or intercourse with\nColumbus, while Las Casas, Oviedo, and Ferdinand had the advantage of\nresidence in America, and intimate knowledge of the aborigines, and of\nthe men and events of the period.\n\nAlmost every item involved in the checkered and eventful life of\nColumbus has afforded a fruitful theme for controversy. His birth, even,\nis disputed, under stress of evidence, as falling anywhere between 1435\nand 1447--a discrepancy of twelve years. His birthplace is claimed by\nmore towns than that of Homer, although his own statement, that he was a\nnative of Genoa, has met general concurrence. His knowledge of\ngeography, astronomy, and navigation is asserted and denied with various\ndegrees of pertinacity. His treatment by the sovereigns of Portugal,\nCastile, and Aragon is so far in question that irreconcilable\ndifferences of opinion exist. How much Columbus really owed to the aid\nof the crown, and how much to private enterprise, in fitting out his\nexpeditions of discovery, cannot be definitely ascertained. How far he\nwas hindered by the bigotry, or helped by the enlightenment of powerful\necclesiastics, as at the council of Salamanca, is a theme of perennial\ncontroversy.\n\nThe island where he first landed is so far from being identified, that\nmany books have been written to prove the claims of this, that, or the\nother gem of the sea to be the true land-fall of Columbus. His treatment\nof the natives has been made the subject of unsparing denunciation and\nof undiscriminating eulogy. His conduct toward his own, often mutinous,\ncrews is alternately lauded as humane and generous, or denounced as\narrogant and cruel, according to the sympathies or the point of view of\nthe critic. His imprisonment and attempted disgrace have been made the\ntheme of indignant comment and of extenuating apology. His moral\ncharacter and marital relations are subjects of irreconcilable\ndifferences of judgment. His deep religious bias, so manifest in nearly\nall his writings, has been praised as a mark of exalted merit by some\nwriters, and stigmatized by others as cant and superstition. The last\nresting-place of his bones, even, is in doubt, which it required an\nelaborate investigation by the Royal Academy of History of Madrid to\nsolve in favor of Havana, as against the cathedral of Santo Domingo;\nthough its report is still controverted, and M. A. Pinart has proved to\nthe satisfaction of many that a misprision took place and that the true\nremains of Columbus still rest at Santo Domingo. The movement to\ncanonize the great discoverer has been championed with more zeal than\ndiscretion by some over-ardent churchmen, while the too-evident human\nfrailties of the proposed candidate for the honors of sainthood have\ninspired an abundant caution in the councils of the Vatican.\n\nOn a subject fraught with so much inherent difficulty, contradictory\nevidence, and conflict of opinion, he is on the safest ground who\ncandidly holds his judgment in reserve. In the light of the\nkeenly-sifted evidence which modern critical study has brought to bear,\nthe laudatory judgments of Irving and Prescott, rendered sixty years\nago, cannot stand wholly approved.\n\nNeither can a discerning reader accept the fulsome laudations of his\nprincipal French biographer, Roselly de Lorgues, whose rhetorical\npanegyrics and pious eulogies place its author in the front rank of the\ncanonizers.\n\nOn the other hand, those who have taken the unfavorable view of\nColumbus, have done their utmost to divest him of most of the honors\nwhich the general voice of history has assigned him as America's\ngreatest discoverer. The established fact that parts of North America\nwere seen centuries before, though no permanent settlement nor\ncontinuity of intercourse ensued, has been used to discredit him, though\nhe was undeniably the pioneer who set out with a plan to discover, and\ndid discover by design, what others found only by accident. His\ngeographical ideas were derived, they say, from Behaim and Toscanelli;\nhis nautical skill from Pinzon; his certainty of finding new lands from\nAlonzo Sanchez; his courage and daring from some of his fellow-voyagers.\n\nWe are pointed to his double reckoning on his first voyage, by which he\ndeceived his sailors as to their true distance from Spain, as evidence\nof a false nature. He is charged with ambition, cupidity, and arrogance,\nin demanding titles, dignities, and money as fruits of his discoveries.\nHe was, we are told, a fanatic, a visionary, a tyrant, a buccaneer, a\nliar, and a slave-trader. He was proud, cruel, and vindictive.\n\nWhat manner of man, then, was this Columbus, with whose name the trump\nof fame has been busy so long? As to his person, we have no verified\nportrait, while the likenesses (of all periods) claiming to represent\nhis features, present irreconcilable differences. But here is the\ndescription of him given by Herrera: \"Columbus was tall of stature,\nlong-visaged, of a majestic aspect, his nose hooked, his eyes gray, of a\nclear complexion, somewhat ruddy. He was witty and pleasant, well-spoken\nand eloquent, moderately grave, affable to strangers, to his own family\nmild. His conversation was discreet, which gained him the affection of\nthose he had to deal with, and his presence attracted respect, having an\nair of authority and grandeur. He was a man of undaunted courage and\nhigh thoughts, patient, unmoved in the many troubles and adversities\nthat attended him, ever relying on the Divine Providence.\" Gomara\ndescribes him as \"a man of good height, strong-limbed, with a long\ncountenance, fresh and rosy in aspect, somewhat given to anger, hardy in\nexposure to fatigues.\"\n\nBenzoni says that Columbus was \"a man of exalted intellect, of a\npleasant and ingenuous countenance.\"\n\nBernaldez, the historian of Ferdinand and Isabella, who knew him\nintimately in his later years, says \"he was a man of very lofty genius,\nand of marvellously honored memory.\"\n\n[Illustration: Columbus ridiculed at the Council of Salamanca.]\n\nWith these personal characteristics, Columbus united a restless spirit,\na firm will, and a singularly enthusiastic temperament. The latter\nfaculty gave him a consuming zeal for his undertakings, which was as\nrare as it proved ultimately successful in compassing his great\ndiscovery. He was discouraged by no rebuffs, would take no denials. His\nmotto seemed to be never to despair, and never to let go. His spiritual\nnature was as remarkable as his intellectual. Here, his imagination was\nthe predominant faculty. He firmly believed himself divinely\ncommissioned to find out the Indies, and to bring their inhabitants into\nthe fold of the true faith. He had early vowed to devote the profits of\nhis enterprise, if successful, to rescue the tomb of Christ from the\ninfidels. Himself a devout son of the Church, he fervently believed that\nhe had miraculous aid on many perilous occasions of his life. Humble\nbefore God, he was sufficiently proud and independent before men. He\ninsisted upon conditions with the haughty sovereigns of Spain which they\ndeemed exacting, but the high views and tenacity of Columbus carried the\nday, and his own terms were granted at last. He never forgot, in all his\nsubsequent trials and humiliations, that he was a Spanish admiral, and\nViceroy of the Indies.\n\nSuch was the character of Columbus. Let us now look at his environment,\nwhich in all men contributes so much to make or modify character. Born\nin Genoa, the headquarters in that day of navigation, Columbus early\nimbibed a passion for maritime affairs. His youthful days and nights\nwere given to the study of astronomy and of navigation. He was a trained\nsailor and map-maker from his boyhood. He brooded over the problems\ninvolved in the spherical form of the earth. He caught up all the hints\nand allusions in classical and mediaeval writers that came in his way, of\nother lands than those already known. The Atlantis of Plato, and the\nclear prediction in Seneca of another world in the west, fired his\nimagination. He himself tells us that he voyaged to the Ultima Thule of\nhis day, which was Iceland, besides various expeditions in the Atlantic\nand Mediterranean.\n\nThe early fancies of isles in the western sea loomed up before his eyes,\nand repeated themselves in his dreams. These visions were heightened by\nthat vague sense of wonder that is linked with the unknown. No wonder,\nthen, that Columbus, with a bent almost preternatural toward the\nundiscovered regions of the globe, should dream of new lands, new men,\nnew scenery, and new wealth. But to his vivid imagination dreams became\nrealities, until he believed with all the force of his ardent nature\nthat he was divinely commissioned to be a discoverer. Hitherto the\nPortuguese voyages familiar to Columbus had only skirted the coast of\nAfrica, and discovered the Cape Verde Islands and the Azores. It was not\ntill 1486, years after the idea of his western voyage took firm root in\nhis mind, that the Cape of Good Hope was at last doubled by Vasco da\nGama. All voyages prior to his had been only tentative and brief, slowly\ncreeping from headland to headland, or else finding new islands by being\ndrifted out of courses long familiar to mariners.\n\nIt was the supreme merit of Columbus that he was the first to cut loose\nfrom one continent to find another, and to steer boldly across an\nunknown sea, in search of an unknown world. We need not belittle (still\nless need we deny) the finding of Greenland and of other parts of North\nAmerica by the Norsemen in the ninth and tenth centuries. We may hail\nEric the Red and his stout son, Leif Ericson, as pioneers in what may be\ntermed coasting voyages of discovery. But the story of America gains as\nlittle from these shadowy and abortive voyages as civilization has\ngained from their fruitless results.\n\nOn the first voyage of Columbus, he was more fortunate in the uncertain\nelements which always affect sea voyages so overpoweringly than in some\nof his later ones. His own vessel, with single deck, was about ninety\nfeet long, by a breadth of twenty feet. The Pinta, a faster sailer, and\nthe Nina (or \"baby\") were smaller caravels, and without decks, commanded\nrespectively by the brothers Martin and Vicente Pinzon. The three\nvessels carried ninety persons, sailing September 6, 1492, running first\nsouth to the Canaries, and then stretching straight westward on the\ntwenty-eighth parallel for what the admiral believed to be the coast of\nJapan. Delightful weather favored the voyagers, but when, on the tenth\nday out from Spain, the caravels struck into that wonderful stretch of\nseaweed and grass, known as the Sargasso Sea, fear lest they should run\naground or soon be unable to sail in either direction took possession of\nthe crews. In five days the caravels ran into smooth water again. But as\ntheir distance from Spain grew greater, the spirit of protest and mutiny\ngrew louder. Columbus needed all of his invincible constancy and\nfirmness of purpose to quell and to animate his despairing crews. At\nlast, October 21, 1492--day ever memorable in the annals of this\nworld--the unknown land rose from the bosom of the water. It was named\nby its pious discoverer San Salvador--Holy Saviour. The charm of climate\nand of landscape enchanted all, and fear and despondency gave way to\ndelight and joy and the most extravagant anticipations. The subsequent\nhistory of this first voyage, the wreck of the admiral's flag-ship Santa\nMaria, the base desertion of Pinzon, and his baffled attempt to\nforestall Columbus in the credit of the discovery, the triumphal honors\npaid to the successful admiral, and the pope's bull conferring upon\nSpain all lands west of a meridian one hundred leagues from the\nAzores--all this is familiar to most readers. The actual discoveries of\nthe first voyage included Cuba and Hispaniola (or Haiti), with some\nlittle islands of the Bahama group, of small importance.\n\nOn his second voyage Columbus found no difficulty in collecting\nseventeen ships and 1,500 adventurers, so popular had the new way to the\nIndies become when the way was once found. He set sail six months after\nhis return to Spain, or on September 15, 1493. He returned in June,\n1496, after three years of explorations, interrupted by a long illness,\nand having discovered Jamaica, Porto Rico, Santa Cruz, Antigua,\nMontserrat, Dominica, and Guadaloupe.\n\nThe third voyage began May 30, 1498, and embraced six vessels and 200\nmen. Columbus struck southwestward from the Cape Verde Islands and ran\nnearly to the equator, into a region of torrid heat, discovering\nTrinidad, Tobago, Grenada, and the Gulf of Paria, and making his first\nlanding on the continent, at the Pearl Coast, near the mouth of the\nOrinoco, in what is now Venezuela. This voyage witnessed many\ndisasters--the rebellion of Roldan, the severe prostration of the\nadmiral by fever, and his seizure and imprisonment in chains by the\ninfamous Bobadilla.\n\nThe fourth and last voyage of Columbus, with four small caravels and 150\nmen, was begun May 11, 1502. On this voyage he discovered Martinique and\nthe coasts of Honduras, Nicaragua, and Veragua, on the mainland,\nreturning to Spain, after untold disasters and miseries, on November 7,\n1504. Then followed the weary struggle of the infirm old voyager to\nsecure justice and a part of his hard-earned benefits from the crown.\nBut Isabella had died, and Ferdinand, under the influence of the\nhard-hearted and cruel bigot, Fonseca, postponed all the claims of\nColumbus. He who had given a world died in poverty, a suppliant for the\nmeans of an honorable existence.\n\nIt is easy enough for the writers of the nineteenth century to criticise\nthe actors of the fifteenth; and learned scholars, sitting in luxurious\neasy-chairs in great libraries, can pass swift and severe judgment upon\nthe acts and motives of Columbus. But let them go back four hundred\nyears, and divest themselves of the bias which the science of to-day\nunconsciously inspires; let them quit the age of steam-engines,\ntelegraphs, democratic governments, printing-presses, and\nSunday-schools; let them orient themselves, and become Spaniards of\n1492, instead of Americans of 1892; let them take the place of\nColumbus--if they are gifted with imagination enough among their\nmanifold endowments to do it; let them think his thoughts, endure his\ntrials, cherish his resolves, encounter his rebuffs, overcome his\nobstacles, launch out on his voyage, govern his mutinous crew, deal with\nhis savage and hostile tribes, combat the traitors in his camp, suffer\nhis shipwrecks, struggle with his disappointments, bear the ignominy of\nhis chains, see his visions, and pray his prayers.\n\nBehold him, launched on his uncertain voyage across the \"sea of\ndarkness,\" in three little caravels, no larger than the modern yacht,\nand far less seaworthy. Watch his devoted and anxious look, his solitary\nself-communings, his all-night vigils under the silent stars. See his\nmotley crew, picked up at random in Palos streets, ignorant,\nsuperstitious, and full of fears, dreading every added mile of the\nvoyage, and alarmed at the prevalent east winds which they thought would\nnever permit them to sail back to Spain; so that Columbus, on a contrary\nhead-wind springing up, thanked God with all the fervency of his pious\nsoul. Pursue his career in his later expeditions, hampered by the\nmutinous vagabonds whom fate had thrust upon him as followers, many of\nthem desperadoes just out of jail. See his baffled endeavors to maintain\norder and discipline among such a crew; to restrain their excesses, curb\ntheir lawless acts of violence, and secure some semblance of decency in\ntheir conduct toward the natives. Many of them, we read, were so given\nover to idleness and sloth, that they actually made the islanders beasts\nof burden, to carry them on their backs. It is a most unhappy fact that\nthe missionaries of the cross were often accompanied by bands of\nmiscreants, who wantonly broke every commandment in the decalogue and\ntrampled upon every precept of the gospel. See him in his last voyage,\nbeating about the rocks and shoals of an unknown archipelago, overtaken\nby West India hurricanes, almost engulfed in waterspouts, scudding under\nbare poles amid perilous breakers, blinded by lightning, deafened by\nincessant peals of thunder, his crazy little barks tossed about like\ncockle-shells in the raging waves, his anchors lost, his worm-eaten\nvessels as full of holes as a honey-comb, two caravels abandoned, and\nthe two remaining run ashore at Jamaica, where Columbus built huts on\ntheir decks to shelter his forlorn crew. See him stranded here, pressed\nby hunger and want, visited by sickness and almost blindness, burning\nwith fever under the wilting, fiery heat of the tropics, desolate,\nforsaken, infirm, and old. There he lay a whole year without relief,\nuntil the cup of his misery was full.\n\nIf Columbus was sometimes harsh and cruel, we are to remember that he\nlived in an age when the most cruel and barbarous punishments were\ncommon. There are numerous instances of his clemency both to natives and\nto his revolted Spaniards, and he more than once jeopardized his own\nlife by sparing theirs. Among a treacherous and vindictive race, many of\nwhom were continually plotting for his overthrow, the admiral, endowed\nwith full power over the lives and acts of his followers, was compelled\nto make examples of the worst, many of whom were criminals released from\nthe prisons of Spain. Like other fighters, he met treachery with\ntreachery, cruelty with cruelty. He had never learned to love his\nenemies, nor to turn his cheek for the second blow. Show us the man\ninvested with absolute power, in that or in any former age, who abused\nit less. Try him by the moral standards, not of our humane and\nenlightened age, but by those of his own. Compared with the deeds of\ndarkness that were done by Bobadilla and Ovando, the governors who\nreplaced him, the reign of Columbus appears, even at its worst, to have\nbeen mild and merciful.\n\nBy the side of the atrocities and cruel massacres perpetrated under\nCortes in Mexico, and Pizarro in Peru, the few deeds of blood under\nColumbus appear slight indeed. While we have no right to extenuate his\nerrors and his abuses, we have as little right to hold him to a standard\nnowhere set up in his day. He had learned his ethics in a school which\ntaught that, for great and pious objects, the end justified the means.\nIn the ardor of his zeal for what he deemed the Christian faith,\nColumbus committed many glaring mistakes and errors; but what\nover-zealous apostle or reformer has failed to do the same? Columbus was\nunduly eager after gold, they say; but in our advanced age, when that\nwhich Virgil called \"the accursed hunger for gold\" pervades all ranks,\nand our cities are nothing but great encampments of fortune-hunters,\ndoes it lie in our mouths to condemn him?\n\nThe age of Columbus took him as he was--all full of human imperfections\nand frailties, but full also to overflowing with a great idea, and with\na will, a perseverance, a constancy, and a faith so sublime, as fairly\nto conquer every obstacle, after a weary struggle of eighteen years, and\nto carry forward his arduous enterprise to triumphant success. That the\ngreat discoverer failed as a governor and administrator makes nothing\nagainst his merits as a discoverer. That his light at last went out in\ndarkness--that the world he discovered brought nothing to Spain but\ndisappointment and Dead Sea ashes--that he dragged out a miserable old\nage in rotten and unseaworthy ships, lying ill in the torrid heats of\nthe West Indies, racked with excruciating pain, and in absolute penury\nand want--all this but adds point to a life so full of paradox that we\nmay almost pardon him for believing in miracles. After so much glory and\nso much fame, his life darkened down to its dreary and pathetic close.\nHis ardent soul went at last where wicked governments cease from\ntroubling, and weary mariners are at rest. On May 20, 1506, worn out by\ndisease, anxieties, and labors, the great discoverer launched forth on\nhis last voyage of discovery, beyond the border of that unknown land\nwhose boundaries are hid from mortal ken.\n\nHis place among the immortals is secure. By the power of the\nunconquerable mind with which nature had endowed him, he achieved a fame\nso imperishable that neither the arrows of malice, nor the shafts of\nenvy, nor the keenest pens of critics, nor the assaults of iconoclasts\ncan avail to destroy it.\n\n[Signature: A. R. Spofford.]\n\n\n\n\nVASCO DA GAMA[10]\n\n         [Footnote 10: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess.]\n\nBy Judge ALBION W. TOURGEE\n\n(1460-1525)\n\n[Illustration: Vasco Da Gama.]\n\n\nVasco da Gama was the pet of fortune. Never did a man win immortality\nmore easily. As a discoverer and a navigator he should rank not only\nbelow Columbus, but also below Bartolemeo Diaz and Cabral among his own\ncountrymen, as well as Vespucius and Magellan, who carried the Spanish\nflag, and the Cabots, who established England's claim to the most\nimportant portions of the New World. As a commander, an administrator,\nand ruler of newly discovered regions, however, he ranks easily above\nthem all. He not only led the way to India, but laid securely the\nfoundations of Portuguese empire in the East.\n\nEven in the hour of his birth he was fortunate. Prince Henry, surnamed\n\"the Navigator,\" to whose indefatigable exertions for more than forty\nyears was due that impulse to maritime achievement of which the\ndiscoveries of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries were the result,\nhad just died, and his influence hung like an inspiration over the\nlittle kingdom for which he had wrought with such self-denying\npatience. This grandson of John of Gaunt has received scant credit for\nthat wonderful series of discoveries by which the accessible earth was\nmore than quadrupled in extent. Yet without him, there is no reason to\nbelieve that either the coast of Africa would have been explored, the\nCape of Good Hope passed, or the American continents discovered for a\ncentury, at least, perhaps for two or three centuries afterward. He was\nthe father of discovery, and it was his hand more than any or all others\nthat rolled up the curtain of darkness which hid the major part of the\nhabitable globe. All the navigators and discoverers of that marvellous\nage were but the agents of his genius and the creatures of his\nindefatigable exertion.\n\nThe son of the most noted sovereign of Portugal, and grandson of that\nrugged Englishman from whose loins have sprung so many royal lines, he\nwas fitted by descent and training for the heroic part which he\nperformed. Distinguished for military achievement before he had come to\nman's estate, urged by four of the leading sovereigns of Europe to take\ncommand of their armies, and made Grand Master of the Order of Christ\nbefore he was twenty-five, there is hardly any limit to the military\ndistinction he might have won or the power he might have secured, had he\nsought his own advancement.\n\nBut he gave himself to Portugal, and determined to raise the little\nkingdom his father had so gallantly held against jealous and powerful\nneighbors, to the rank of a first-class power. To seek to enlarge a\nrealm shut in by mountains on one side and the sea upon the other, by\nconstant strife with embittered enemies, he saw at once was to invite\nannihilation. The sea afforded the only avenue of hope, the continent of\nAfrica, where his father had already gained something from the Moor, in\nbattling with whom he had himself won renown, the only visible\nopportunity. So he determined to explore, and finally, to circumnavigate\nAfrica, and give to Portugal whatever of power or wealth the ocean or\nthe dark continent might hide. He believed that India might be reached\nby sailing round its southern extremity, and he determined to pour the\nwealth of the Orient into the treasury of the kingdom his father had\nestablished.\n\nIn 1418, therefore, he turned his back on personal ambition, laid aside\nthe glory of military renown, and sat himself down to a hermit's life\nand a scholar's labors on the promontory of Sagres, in the province of\nAlgarve, that point on the coast of Portugal which stretches farthest\nout into the Atlantic in the direction of his hope. Here he built an\nobservatory whose light was the last his captains saw as they went\nforth, and the first to greet them on their return. Here he opened a\nschool of navigation, and here were trained the discoverers who opened\nthe way for all who came afterward. Here was not only nourished the\nimpulse which fired the hearts of Columbus and his contemporaries, but\nhere was taught the science and here were gathered the facts which\nenabled them to achieve success.\n\nUp to that time, Cape Nun had been the boundary of the modern world to\nthe southward. With infinite patience, Prince Henry labored to convince\nhis captains that the terrors which they thought lay at the southward of\nthis point were wholly imaginary. Little by little his caravels crept\ndown the coast of Africa. Every year he sent out two or three.\nNavigators and geographers flocked to his service. In two years he\nre-discovered Madeira and Porto Santo, of which latter he afterward made\nPerestrello, the father of Columbus's wife, the governor. By 1433 his\nships had reached Cape Bojador; eight years afterward they passed Cape\nBlanco; in 1445 they were at the mouth of the Senegal. Still he urged\nthem on toward that \"_thesaurus Arabum et divitia Indiae_,\" to which he\nset himself the task of opening up the way. The crown of Portugal\nassumed all the cost of these expeditions. Gold, ivory, cinnabar,\ndye-woods, spices, and slaves, added to the wealth of the kingdom only\nto furnish forth new ventures.\n\nHe died before the end came, but not until many of the most important\nproblems of cosmographic condition had been solved. It was known by\nactual experience that the \"steaming sea\" was a myth. Ships had crossed\nthe equator, and their crews came back to tell of southward-stretching\nshadows. Ships were able, it was seen, to sail up the southern slope of\nthe world as well as down it. Why they did not fall off into space, none\nknew, but that they did not was proved. Gravitation was a force whose\nlaws and character were yet unformulated. The diurnal motion of the\nearth was hardly suspected until a hundred years later. But the facts on\nwhich these two fundamental truths are based were being gathered for\nNewton and Copernicus. When he died, those whom he had inspired and\ninstructed continued the work to which he had devoted himself, under the\npatronage of his brother Alfonso and his nephew Joao II.; until, in\n1486, Bartholomeo Diaz had sailed two hundred miles to the eastward of\nthe Cape of Good Hope and returned to assure his sovereign that the way\nto India had at length been found.\n\nIt was not, however, until Dom Manoel had succeeded to the throne, in\n1495, that any successful effort was made to follow up the success which\nDiaz had achieved. The way to India was indeed open, but no one seems to\nhave had sufficient fortitude to undertake so long a voyage in order to\nreach it by that route. Dom Manoel had, however, but one idea. He was\nnot a geographer like his predecessor, Joao, \"the perfect,\" but he was a\nman of action, and determined that the route Prince Henry's navigators\nhad opened to India should not remain unused. Vasco da Gama was then in\nhis thirty-fifth year, the handsomest man of his age, of ancient family,\nand it is claimed was not without royal blood in his veins. As a soldier\nhe was trained in the war with Castile; as a navigator he had served\nunder Prince Henry's best captains. Camoens, the historical poet of\nPortugal, declares that he was familiar not only with the recorded\nachievements of his predecessors, but with all the regions they had\ndiscovered. Dom Joao, on the return of Diaz, selected him to command the\nfleet he meant to send to follow up this discovery. In the ten years\nthat elapsed before he actually sailed, it is probable that he had grown\nto be not only a better geographer, but also a stronger, more\ncool-headed, and reliable man. That he was able to command, those\nmutineers who cavilled at his severity during the stormy passage of four\nmonths from Lisbon to Table Bay, found out when they demanded that he\ngive up trying to reach India and return to Portugal as other captains\nhad done, at the behest of their crews. He made short work of them, and\nin his whole career, so salutary was the lesson, no one under his\ncommand ever again refused to obey his orders.\n\nIt was July 8, 1497, when he sailed from Lisbon, and it was not until\nDecember 1st that he left Delagoa Bay, the farthest eastward point which\nDiaz had reached, to pass over the actually unknown water that lay\nbetween him and India. Even this could hardly be called \"unknown water,\"\nfor Corvilhan, who a dozen years before had made his way overland to\nAden, had sent back to Dom Joao II. this message:\n\n\"Anyone who will persist, is sure to sail around the southernmost point\nof Africa, and can then easily make his way up the eastern shore and\nacross the gulf to India.\"\n\nLiterally were his words fulfilled. With favoring breezes, Gama reached\nMalinda early in January, 1498, and securing the services of an Indian\npilot, who had not only sailed hither from Calicut, but seemed as\nfamiliar as Gama himself with compass and astrolabe, he set out boldly\nacross the Indian Ocean, and in May arrived at Calicut. When we consider\nthat this latter part of the voyage was with a pilot accustomed to make\nthe trip in the far more fragile crafts of the Arabs, the boldness of\nthe undertaking does not seem so apparent to one of our day. Compared\nwith the voyages of Columbus, Magellan, Vespucius, or Cabral over\nabsolutely unknown seas, without pilots or charts of any kind, the\npassage from Aden to India hardly seems remarkable. Yet upon this the\nfame of Gama as an explorer rests, and as has been remarked, \"few men\nhave won fame so easily.\" His real merit lay in the fact that he did\nwhat so few of his predecessors were able to accomplish, controlled the\nmutinous crews, who had after all been the most serious obstacle in the\npath of Portugal to the coveted Indian possessions. It is probable that\nif Prince Henry had encouraged his captains to exercise greater\nseverity, the darling object of his life might have been attained before\nhis death and the birth of the fortunate explorer, whose cheaply-won\nfame has obscured his own, even with the king-loving Portuguese.\n\nIt would seem as if the capacity to control men, which was so prominent\na characteristic of the \"Discoverer of India,\" was not of a conciliatory\ncharacter, for the Zamorin of Calicut received him but coldly, and\nbefore his ships were loaded the difference had ripened into a quarrel,\nand he was obliged to cut his way out of the harbor to begin his\nhomeward voyage. This lack of complaisance on the part of the Zamorin he\nattributed, not without reason, to the jealousy of the Arab merchants,\nwhose swift-sailing dhows crowded the port. Why should they not be\njealous of him who came to take away their immemorial privilege?\nTheretofore the treasures of the Orient had reached the western world\nonly through the hands of the Arab merchants. The dhow and the camel had\nbeen its carriers. Gama had brought the more capacious caravel to bear\nthem over a new highway to the western consumers. His success meant the\nloss of a great part of the business on which the sailors, merchants,\nand camel-drivers of Arabia depended for a livelihood. Why should they\nnot conspire to kill him and destroy his fleet?\n\nHis homeward passage was as fortunate as the outward one had been. That\nhe did not experience the disasters which befell others, was no doubt\nlargely due to the fact that he foresaw and avoided peril whenever\npossible. He was one of those men who, while shrinking from no\nunavoidable danger, take no unnecessary risks. He was received with\nunprecedented honors when, after two years and two months' absence, his\nships were again anchored in the Tagus. Their rich cargo attested the\nrare value of the trade he had opened up. Despite the gold which the\nminers of Espanola were beginning to send to Spain, and the pearls which\nhad come from Cubagua, the apparent value of the discoveries of Columbus\nwere as nothing to the boundless wealth which Gama's voyage assured to\nPortugal. By the bull of Pope Alexander VI., all lands discovered east\nof the meridian of the Azores belonged to the King of Portugal. It was\nnot only half the world, but that half which was of most inexhaustible\nrichness, Asia and Africa. Titles and honors and wealth were conferred\nupon the fortunate explorer. In consideration perhaps of his royal\nextraction, he was permitted to affix the kingly title, \"Dom,\" to his\nname. No wonder he was thus honored, when the cargo of one small caravel\nloaded with spices, yielded a greater sum than the whole outfit of the\nfleet Columbus commanded on his first voyage!\n\nIn an incredibly short time, thirteen ships were fitted out, and under\nthat prince of navigators, Cabral, set sail to secure the results of\nGama's discovery. On him, too, fortune smiled as it rarely has on them\nthat \"go down to the sea in ships.\" Blown out of his course by\nhead-winds, his very mishaps ripened into the rarest fortune, for he\ndiscovered Brazil, and thus added to his master's realm what was\ndestined to be one of the richest kingdoms of the world. With the\ninstinct of genius, and a courage as rare as it was heroic, he did not\nreturn to notify his king of the new continent which had risen out of\nthe deep before him, but sending back a single caravel with the\nmarvellous news, he turned his battered prows to that point of the\ncompass where he judged the Cape of Good Hope to be, and after passing\nthree thousand miles of water that had never known a keel before, he\nrounded the southern point of Africa and proceeded to carry out his\norders. He lacked, however, the soldierly qualities and administrative\npower of the \"Discoverer of India,\" who the year after his return was\nsent out to complete his work. This time he had a fleet of twenty sail,\nand from the outset was bent not only on taking permanent possession of\nthe countries whose trade it was desirable to secure, but on avenging\nthe affront that had before been offered him by the Zamorin of Calicut\nand the Arab traders who had inspired the action.\n\nOn his way he founded the colonies of Mozambique and Sofala, and sailed\nto Travancore. During the passage he fell in with a ship which was\ncarrying many Indian Mussulmans to Mecca, laden with rich presents for\nthe shrine of the Prophet. This he pillaged and burned, with all of her\n300 passengers except twenty women and children, whom he saved more for\nhis own pleasure, no doubt, than from any pity for them. He excused this\nact of savagery, so far as any excuse was necessary, on the ground that\nthey were paynim Moors, and some among them had incited the attack upon\nhim at Calicut on his former voyage. The truth is they were rich; he\nwanted the plunder; and there was less likelihood of trouble if he\nkilled them than if they were left alive to publish and avenge their\nlosses. It was merely an application of the freebooter's maxim, that\n\"dead men tell no tales.\"\n\nArriving at Calicut, he found that forty Portuguese who had been left to\nestablish a permanent post, had been killed. With unusual deliberation,\nhe investigated the matter and demanded reparation, submission, and a\ntreaty acknowledging the sovereignty of Portugal over India. This being\nrefused, he bombarded the city, burned the ships in the harbor, and\ncompelled the Zamorin himself and all the native princes of the region\nto submit and acknowledge themselves feudatories of Portugal. So rapid\nwere his movements, and so accurate his calculations, that before the\nclose of 1503 he had reached Lisbon again with thirteen vessels laden to\nthe gunwale with the plunder of the Orient--by all odds the richest\nargosy that had come to any European port since the days of the Romans.\n\nDa Gama was now forty-three years old, and must have been in the very\nprime of manhood. Why so skilled a navigator, so intrepid a commander,\nso shrewd a negotiator, and so successful an administrator, who had\nestablished the power of Portugal from Delagoa Bay to Calcutta, should,\nat that period of his life, have been laid upon the shelf for twenty\nyears, is a conundrum hard to answer. Knowing the character of Dom\nManoel, it is not difficult to guess that his sordidness lay somewhere\nat the bottom of the trouble; but it is said to Gama's credit, that he\nneither whined nor remonstrated.\n\nIt must be admitted, however, that he was succeeded by one who was\ngreatly his superior both as a general, a statesman, and an\nadministrator. If Vasco da Gama laid the foundations of Portuguese\nempire in the East, Alfonso d'Albuquerque, \"the Great,\" broadened and\nbuilt upon them as he could never have done. From Aden to Cochin blood\nflowed beneath his blows, but peace followed; and though he was termed\n\"the Portuguese Mars,\" his justice became traditional, and his sagacity\nwas shown in the permanence of the settlements he made, even under the\nincompetent viceroys who followed him.\n\nIt was twenty years since Vasco da Gama had commanded a ship.\nAlbuquerque was dead, and his successors had brought shame and defeat\nupon the Portuguese power in the East. Dom Manoel was dead also, and\nwhatever grievance he had against \"the Discoverer of India,\" seems to\nhave died with him. His successor, Dom Joao III., casting about for\nsomeone to bring order out of confusion, success out of failure, and\nhonor out of shame, called again into his service the courtly and\nsagacious mariner, now over sixty years of age; and conferring upon him\nthe title of viceroy, sent him to retrieve the prestige his successors\nhad lost. His high spirit was yet undaunted, and when he neared the\ncoast of India and found the waters in a strange ferment for which no\none could account, as there was neither wind nor tide, he said loftily:\n\"The sea beholds its conqueror and trembles before him!\" It sounds\nbombastic, but in the mouth of one who had first guided a civilized keel\nover its surface, such arrogance is at least pardonable.\n\nIn the few months that intervened before his death he made the power of\nPortugal once more respected in the East. When he died in Cochin, in\n1525, he was mourned by the natives as a just ruler, and by his\ncountrymen as one who had saved to Portugal the richest part of the\nnational domain. It is not strange, therefore, that when his ashes were\nconveyed to Lisbon, they were received with a pomp almost equal to that\nwhich greeted him when he came as the discoverer of the Orient and its\npriceless treasures. It is rare in history that one receives two\ntriumphs, the one while living and the other when dead, especially in\nconnection with the same achievement; but it is rarer still that one who\nhas won immortality should leave a record so singularly free from\nbickering and strife as that of the dignified and self-contained\nPortuguese rival of Columbus, Dom Vasco da Gama, the \"Discoverer and\nSixth Viceroy of India, Count of Vidigueira,\" where he lies entombed.\nLittle is known of his private life; but there seems no doubt that it\nwas free from the stains that obscure his great rival's fame, from whom\nhe also differed in the fact that he neither begged nor boasted, and in\nold age was honored even more than in his prime.\n\n[Signature: Albion W. Tourgee.]\n\n\n\n\nTHE CHEVALIER BAYARD\n\nBy HERBERT GREENHOUGH SMITH\n\n(1476-1524)\n\n[Illustration: The Chevalier Bayard.]\n\n\nPierre Du Terrail was born in 1476, at Castle Bayard, in Dauphiny. The\nhouse of Terrail belonged to the Scarlet of the ancient peers of France.\nThe Lords of Bayard, during many generations, had died under the flags\nof battle. Poictiers, Agincourt, and Montlhery had taken, in succession,\nthe last three; and in 1479, when Pierre was in his nurse's arms, his\nfather, Aymon du Terrail, was carried from the field of Guinegate with a\nfrightful wound, from the effects of which, although he survived for\nseventeen years to limp about his castle with the help of sticks, he\nnever again put on his shirt of mail.\n\nThe old knight was thus debarred from bringing up his son as his own\nsquire. But the Bishop of Grenoble, his wife's brother, was a close\nfriend of Charles the Warrior, the great Duke of Savoy. When Pierre was\nin his fourteenth year it was proposed that he should begin his knightly\neducation among the pages of the duke. The bishop promised to present\nhim. A little horse was bought; a tailor was set to work to make a\ngorgeous suit of silk and velvet; and Pierre was ready to set out.\n\nDuring six months the palace of Charles became his home. The lovable and\nhandsome boy soon won all hearts about him. The duke with delight saw\nhim leap and wrestle, throw the bar, and ride a horse better than any\npage about the court. The duchess and her ladies loved to send him on\ntheir dainty missions. His temper was bright and joyous; his only fault,\nif fault it can be called, was an over-generosity of nature. His purse\nwas always empty; and when he had no money, any trifling service of a\nlackey or a groom would be requited with a silver button, a dagger, or a\nclasp of gold. And such was to be his character through life. Time after\ntime, in after years, his share of treasure, after some great victory,\nwould have paid a prince's ransom; yet often he could not lay his hand\non five gold pieces.\n\nWhen Pierre had lived at the palace about half a year, the duke made a\nvisit to Lyons, to pay his duty to the king. That king was Charles the\nEighth, then a boy of twenty, who was making his days fly merrily with\ntilts and hawking parties, and his nights with dances and the whispers\nof fair dames. The duke desired to carry with him to his sovereign a\npresent worthy of a king's acceptance. A happy notion struck him. He\nresolved to present the king with Bayard and his horse.\n\nKing Charles, delighted with his new page, placed him in the palace of\nLord Ligny, a prince of the great house of Luxemburg, and there for\nthree years he continued to reside. During that time his training was\nthe usual training of a page. But the child was the father of the man.\nThoughts of great deeds, of tilts and battle-fields, of champions going\ndown before his lance, of crowns of myrtle, and the smiles of lovely\nladies--such already were the dreams which set his soul on fire.\n\nAt seventeen Pierre received the rank of gentleman. Thenceforward he was\nfree to follow his own fortune; he was free to seek the glorious\nDulcinea of his dreams--a fame as bright and sparkling as his sword. And\nthereupon begins to pass before us, brilliant as the long-drawn scenes\nof a dissolving view, the strange and splendid series of his exploits.\nHe had not ceased to be a page ten days before the court was ringing\nwith his name.\n\nSir Claude de Vauldre, Lord of Burgundy, was regarded as the stoutest\nknight in France. He was then at Lyons, and was about to hold a tilt,\nwith lance and battle-axe, before the ladies and the king. His shield\nwas hanging in the Ainay meadows, and beside it Montjoy, the\nking-at-arms, sat all day with his book open, taking down the names of\nthose who struck the shield. Among these came Bayard. Montjoy laughed as\nhe wrote down his name; the king, Lord Ligny, and his own companions,\nheard with mingled trepidation and delight that Bayard had struck the\nblazon of Sir Claude. But no one had a thought of what was coming. The\nday arrived, the tilt was held, and Bayard, by the voice of all the\nladies, bore off the prize above the head of every knight in Lyons.\n\nThe glory of this exploit was extreme. It quickly spread. Three days\nlater Bayard went to join the garrison at Aire. He found, as he rode\ninto the little town, that the fame of his achievement had arrived\nbefore him. Heads were everywhere thrust out of windows, and a band of\nfifty of his future comrades issued on horseback from the garrison to\nbid him welcome. A few days after his arrival he held a tilt in his own\nperson, after the example of Sir Claude. The palms were a diamond and a\nclasp of gold. Forty-eight of his companions struck his shield, and rode\ninto the lists against him. Bayard overthrew the whole band, one by one,\nand was once more hailed at sunset by the notes of trumpets as the\nchampion of the tourney.\n\nIt is not in tournaments and tilts, however, that a knight can win his\nspurs. Bayard burned for battle. For many months he burned in vain; but\nat last the banners of the king were given to the wind, and Bayard, to\nhis unspeakable delight, found himself marching under Lord Ligny against\nNaples.\n\nThe two armies faced each other at Fornovo. The odds against the French\nwere six to one, and the fight was long and bloody. When the great\nvictory was at last decided, Bayard was among the first of those called\nup before the king. That day two horses had dropped dead beneath him;\nhis cuirass and sword were hacked and battered, and a captured standard,\nblazing with the arms of Naples, was in his hand. At the king's order he\nknelt down, and received upon the spot the rank of knight. At one bound\nhe had achieved the height of glory--to be knighted by his sovereign on\nthe field of battle.\n\nBayard was not yet nineteen. His figure at that age was tall and\nslender; his hair and eyes were black; his complexion was a sunny brown;\nand his countenance had something of the eagle's.\n\nHe was now for some time idle. He was left in garrison in Lombardy. But\nfiercer fields were soon to call him. Ludovico Sforza took Milan. At\nBinasco, Lord Bernardino Cazache, one of Sforza's captains, had three\nhundred horse; and twenty miles from Milan was Bayard's place of\ngarrison. With fifty of his comrades he rode out one morning, bent on\nassaulting Lord Bernardino's force. The latter, warned by a scout of\ntheir approach, armed his party, and rushed fiercely from the fort. The\nstrife was fought with fury; but the Lombards, slowly driven back toward\nMilan, at length wheeled round their horses and galloped like the wind\ninto the city.\n\nBayard, darting in his spurs, waving his bare blade, and shouting out\nhis battle-cry of \"France,\" was far ahead of his companions. Before he\nknew his danger, he had dashed in with the fugitives at the city gates\nand reached the middle of the square in front of Sforza's palace. He\nfound himself alone in the midst of the fierce enemy--with the white\ncrosses of France emblazoned on his shield.\n\nSforza, hearing a tremendous uproar in the square, came to a window of\nthe palace and looked down. The square was swarming with the soldiers\nof Binasco, savage, hacked, and bloody; and in the centre of the yelling\ntumult, Bayard, still on horseback, was slashing at those who strove to\npull him from his seat.\n\nSforza, in a voice of thunder, bade the knight be brought before him.\nBayard, seeing that resistance was mere madness, surrendered to Lord\nBernardino, and was led, disarmed, into the palace. Sforza was a soldier\nmore given to the ferocity than to the courtesies of war. But when the\nyoung knight stood before him, when he heard his story, when he looked\nupon his bold yet modest bearing, the fierce and moody prince was moved\nto admiration. \"Lord Bayard,\" he said, \"I will not treat you as a\nprisoner. I set you free; I will take no ransom; and I will grant you\nany favor in my power.\" \"My Lord Prince,\" said Bayard, \"I thank you for\nyour courtesy with all my soul. I will ask you only for my horse and\narmor.\" The horse was brought; Bayard sprang into the saddle, and an\nhour later was received by his companions with raptures of surprise and\njoy, as one who had come alive out of the lion's den.\n\nMilan fell; Sforza was taken; and Bayard went into garrison at\nMonervino. At Andri, some miles distant, was a Spanish garrison under\nthe command of Don Alonzo de Sotomayor, one of the most famous knights\nin Spain. Bayard, with fifty men, rode out one morning, in the hope of\nfalling in with some adventure. It happened that he came across Alonzo,\nwith an equal party, abroad on the same quest. Their forces met; both\nsides flew joyously to battle, and for an hour the victory hung in the\nbalance. But at last Bayard, with his own sword, forced Alonzo to\nsurrender; and his party, carrying with them a large band of prisoners,\nrode back in triumph to the garrison.\n\nSotomayor behaved in most unknightly fashion, and after being ransomed,\naccused Bayard of ill-treating him. Bayard sent him the lie, and\nchallenging him to a duel to the death, slew him. A few days later, the\nSpaniards, panting for reprisal, proposed to meet a party of the French\nin combat, for the glory of their nations. Bayard received the challenge\nwith delight. On the appointed day, thirteen knights of either side,\nglittering in full harness, armed with sword and battle-axe, and\nprepared for a contest to the death, rode forth into the lists.\n\nBy the laws of such a tilt a knight unhorsed, or forced across the\nboundary, became a prisoner, and could fight no longer. The Spaniards,\nwith great cunning, set themselves to maim the horses; and by these\ntactics, eleven of the French were soon dismounted. Two alone were left\nto carry on the contest, Bayard and Lord Orose.\n\nThen followed such a feat of arms as struck the gazers dumb. For four\nhours these two held good their ground against the whole thirteen. The\nSpaniards, stung with rage and shame, spurred till their heels dripped\nblood. In vain. Night fell; the bugles sounded; and still the\nunconquerable pair rode round the ring.\n\nBut great as this feat was, it was soon to be succeeded by a greater. A\nfew weeks afterward the French and Spanish camps were posted on opposite\nsides of the river Gargliano. Between them was a bridge, in the\npossession of the French; and some way farther down the river was a\nford, known only to the Spanish general, Pedro de Paez. He proposed to\nlure the French guards from the bridge, and then to seize it. And his\nstratagem was ready.\n\nEarly in the morning the French soldiers at the bridge were startled to\nperceive a party of the enemy, each horseman bearing a foot-soldier on\nhis crupper, approach the river at the ford and begin to move across it.\nInstantly, as Paez had intended, they left the bridge and rushed toward\nthe spot. Bayard, attended by Le Basque, was in the act of putting on\nhis armor. He sprang into the saddle, and was about to spur after his\ncompanions, when he perceived, across the river, a party of two hundred\nSpaniards making for the bridge. The danger was extreme; for if the\nbridge were taken the camp itself would be in the most deadly peril.\nBayard bade Le Basque gallop for his life to bring assistance. And he\nhimself rode forward to the bridge, alone.\n\nThe Spaniards, on seeing a solitary knight advance against them, laughed\nloudly at his folly. Their foremost horsemen were already half-way over\nwhen Bayard, with his lance in rest, came flying down upon them. His\nonset swept the first three off the bridge into the river, and instantly\nthe rest, with cries of vengeance, rushed furiously upon him. Bayard,\nnot to be surrounded, backed his horse against the railing of the\nbridge, rose up in his stirrups, swung his falchion with both hands\nabove his head, and lashed out with such fury that, with every blow a\nbloody Spaniard fell into the river, and the whole troop recoiled in\nwonder and dismay, as if before a demon. While they still stood,\nhalf-dazed, two hundred glaring at one man, a shout was heard, and Le\nBasque, with a band of horsemen, was seen approaching like a whirlwind.\nIn two minutes the Spaniards were swept back upon the land in hopeless\nrout--and the French camp was saved.\n\nBayard received for this great feat the blazon of a porcupine, with this\ninscription, _Unus agminis vires habet_--\"One man has the might of\narmies.\"\n\nAnd still came exploit after exploit in succession--exploits of every\nkind of fiery daring. At Genoa, when the town revolted, Bayard stormed\nthe fort of the insurgents, quelled the riot, forced the city to\nsurrender, and hanged the leader on a pole. At Agnadello, against the\ntroops of Venice, he waded with his men through fens and ditches, took\nthe picked bands of Lord d'Alvicino on the flank, scattered them to the\nwinds, and won the day. At Padua, during the long siege, he scoured the\ncountry with his band of horse, and frequently rode back to camp at\nnightfall with more prisoners than armed men. At Mirandola, where he\nfaced the papal armies, he laid a scheme to take the Pope himself. A\nsnowstorm kept the fiery Julius in his tent, and Bayard lost him. A few\ndays afterward the pontiff's life was in his hands. A traitor offered,\nfor a purse of gold, to poison the Pope's wine. But it is not the\nBayards of the world who fight with pots of poison; and the slippery\nJudas had to fly in terror from the camp, or Bayard would infallibly\nhave hanged him.\n\nSo far, amid his life of perils, Bayard had escaped without a wound. But\nnow his time had come.\n\nBrescia was taken by the troops of Venice. Gaston de Foix, the\nthunderbolt of Italy, marched with 12,000 men to its relief. Bayard was\namong them. At the head of the storming-party he was first across the\nramparts, and was turning round to cheer his men to victory when a pike\nstruck him in the thigh. The shaft broke off, and the iron head remained\nembedded in the wound.\n\nTwo of his archers caught him as he fell, bore him out of the rush of\nbattle, and partly stanched the wound by stripping up the linen of their\nshirts. They then bore him to a mansion close at hand. The master of the\nhouse, who seems to have been a person of more wealth than valor, had\ndisappeared, and was thought to be hiding somewhere in a convent,\nleaving his wife and his two daughters to themselves. The girls had fled\ninto a hay-loft, and plunged themselves beneath the hay; but, on the\nthunderous knocking of the archers, the lady of the house came trembling\nto the door. Bayard was carried in, a surgeon was luckily discovered\nclose at hand, and the pike-head was extracted. The wound was pronounced\nto be not dangerous. But Bayard, to his great vexation, found he was\ndoomed to lie in idleness for several weeks.\n\nAccording to the laws of war, the house was his, and all the inmates\nwere his prisoners. And the fact was well for them. Outside the house\nexisted such a scene of horror as, even in that age, was rare. Ten\nthousand men lay dead in the great square; the city was given up to\npillage, and it is said that the conquerors gorged themselves that day\nwith booty worth three million crowns. The troops were drunk with\nvictory and rapine. No man's life, no woman's honor, was in safety for\nan instant.\n\nBayard set his archers at the door-way. His name was a talisman against\nthe boldest; and in the midst of the fierce tumult that raged all round\nit, the house in which he lay remained a sanctuary of peace.\n\nThe ladies of the house were soon reassured. Bayard refused to regard\nthem as his prisoners or to take a coin of ransom. The daughters, two\nlovely and accomplished girls, were delighted to attend the wounded\nknight. They talked and sang to him, they touched the mandolin, they\nwoke the music of the virginals. In such society the hours flew lightly\nby. The wound healed, and in six weeks Bayard was himself again.\n\nOn the day of his departure the lady of the house came into his\napartment, and besought him, as their preserver, to accept a certain\nlittle box of steel. The box contained two thousand five hundred golden\nducats. Bayard took it. \"But five hundred ducats,\" he said, \"I desire\nyou to divide for me among the nuns whose convents have been pillaged.\"\nThen, turning to her daughters, \"Ladies,\" he said, \"I owe you more than\nthanks for your kind care of me. Soldiers do not carry with them pretty\nthings for ladies; but I pray each of you to accept from me a thousand\nducats, to aid your marriage portions.\" And with that he poured the\ncoins into their aprons.\n\n[Illustration: Bayard taking Leave of the Ladies of Brescia.]\n\nHis horse was brought, and he was about to mount, when the girls came\nstealing down the steps into the castle court, each with a little\npresent, worked by their own hands, which they desired him to accept.\nOne brought a pair of armlets, made of gold and silver thread; the\nother, a purse of crimson satin. And this was all the spoil that Bayard\ncarried from the inestimable wealth of Brescia--the little keepsakes of\ntwo girls whom he had saved.\n\nThe scenes of Bayard's life at which we have been glancing have been\nchiefly those of his great feats of arms. And so it must be still; for\nit is these of which the details have survived in history. And yet it\nwas such incidents as these at Brescia which made the fame of Bayard\nwhat it was and what it is. To his foes, he was the flower of chivalry;\nbut to his friends, he was, besides, the most adored of men. It is said\nthat in his native province of Dauphiny, at his death, more than a\nhundred ancient soldiers owed to him the roof that covered their old\nage; that more than a hundred orphan girls had received their marriage\nportions from his bounty. But of such acts the vast majority are\nunrecorded; for these are not the deeds which shine in the world's eye.\n\nGaston de Foix was now before Ravenna. Bayard rode thither with all\nspeed; he was just in time. Two days after his arrival came the battle.\nWeak though he still was from his long illness, Bayard on that day was\nseen, as ever, \"shining above his fellow-men.\" He turned the tide of\nvictory; he tore two standards from the foe with his own hand; and he\nwas first in the pursuit.\n\nTwo months after, Bayard was at Pavia. The little troop with which he\nwas then serving had there sought refuge under Louis d'Ars. The armies\nof the Swiss burst in upon them. Bayard, with a handful of soldiers in\nthe market-place, held, for two hours, their whole force at bay, while\nhis companions were retreating from the town across a bridge of boats.\nAs he himself was crossing, last of all, a shot struck him in the\nshoulder, and stripped it to the bone. No surgeon was at hand. The\nwound, roughly stanched with moss, brought on a fever, and for some time\nhe lay in danger of his life.\n\nAnd now Bayard was to follow a new master. Louis XII. died; Francis I.\nreceived the crown; and Bayard, with the young king, marched to Milan,\nwhich the Swiss had seized and held.\n\nOn Thursday, September 13, 1515, King Francis pitched his camp at\nMarignano, before the city of the spires. No danger of attack was\napprehended; the king sat calmly down to supper in his tent; when all at\nonce the Swiss, aroused to madness by the fiery eloquence of Cardinal de\nSion, broke like a tempest from the city, and fell upon the camp. The\nFrench, by the red light of sunset, flew to arms, and fought with fury\ntill night fell. Both armies sat all night on horseback, waiting for the\ndawn; and with the first streaks of morning, flew again to battle. It\nwas noon before the bitter contest ended, and the Swiss, still fighting\nevery inch of ground, drew slowly back toward the city. It had been,\nindeed, as Trevulzio called it, a Battle of the Giants. And the greatest\nof the giants had been Bayard and the king.\n\nThat evening Francis held, before his tent, the ceremony of creating\nknights of valor. But before the ceremony began, a proclamation by the\nheralds startled and delighted all the camp. Francis had determined to\nreceive the rank in his own person. Bayard was to knight the king!\n\nIn the days of the primeval chivalry, when even princes were compelled\nto win their spurs, such a spectacle was not uncommon. But not for ages\nhad a king been knighted by a subject on a field of battle. Nor was any\nsplendor wanting that could make the spectacle impressive. Nowhere in\nAriosto is a picture of more gorgeous details than is presented by this\nscene of history; the great crimson silk pavilion, the seat spread with\ncloth of gold, the blazoned banners, the heralds with their silver\ntrumpets, the multitude all hushed in wonder, the plumed and glittering\ncompany of knights and men-at-arms. Such were the surroundings amid\nwhich Francis knelt, and Bayard, with his drawn sword, gave the\naccolade.\n\nThe sword with which he had performed the ceremony Bayard kept\nreligiously until his death. It was then mislaid, and never\nrediscovered. The loss is a misfortune. For few relics could exist of\nmore romantic interest than the sword with which the noblest of all\nknights did honor to the most magnificent of kings.\n\nBayard's glory had long been at such a height that hardly any exploit\ncould increase it. And yet an exploit was at hand at which, even when\nBayard was the actor of it, all France and Germany were to stand in\nwonder.\n\nThe German emperor, marching with a mighty army on Champagne, took\nMonson by surprise, and advanced against Mezieres. If Mezieres were\ntaken, the whole province would be in the most deadly peril. And yet\ndefence seemed hopeless; the place had no artillery, and the ramparts\nwere in ruins. At this crisis Bayard volunteered to hold the crazy city.\n\"No walls are weak,\" he said, in his own noble style, \"which are\ndefended by brave men.\"\n\nWith a small but chosen band he hastened to Mezieres. Two days after his\narrival the Count of Nassau, with a vast array of men and cannon,\nappeared before the walls. The siege began--a siege which seemed\nimpossible to last twelve hours.\n\nBut day after day went by, and still the town was standing. Every day\nthe ramparts gaped with cannon-shot; but every night, as if by miracle,\nthey rose again. The defenders suffered from wounds, pestilence, and\nfamine; but Bayard had put every man on oath to eat his horse, and then\nhis boots, before he would surrender. Three weeks passed; and when at\nlast the king arrived with forces to relieve the town, he found a few\ngaunt spectres still glaring defiance from the battered ramparts against\na hundred cannon and more than forty thousand men.\n\nNothing can more strikingly describe the part of Bayard than the\ntestimony of his enemies themselves. Some time after, Mary of Hungary\nasked the Count of Nassau in disdain how it came to pass that with a\nhost of troops and guns he could not take a crazy pigeon-house.\n\"Because,\" replied the count, \"there was an eagle in it.\"\n\nIt was Bayard's last great exploit. It had been his lifelong wish that\nhe might fall upon the field of battle. And so it was to be.\n\nEarly in the spring of 1524, the French camp was posted at Biagrasso.\nLord Bonnivet, who was in command, found himself, after a prolonged\nresistance, at last compelled by famine and sickness to retire before\nthe Spaniards. It was Bayard's constant custom to be first in an\nadvance and last in retreat, and that day he was, as usual, in the post\nof danger. It was for the last time. Friends and enemies were to hear,\nbefore night fell, the thrilling tidings that Bayard was no more.\n\nOn both sides of the road which the retreating army had to traverse the\nSpaniards had placed in ambush a large force of arquebusiers. It was a\nweapon which Bayard held in detestation; for while skill and courage\nwere required to wield a spear or sword, any skulking wretch could pull\na trigger from behind a stone. From one of these hated weapons he\nreceived his death. As he was retreating slowly with his face toward the\nfoe, a stone from a cross-arquebus struck him on the side. He instantly\nsank forward on his saddle-bow, exclaiming in a faint voice, \"Great God!\nI am killed.\"\n\nHis squire helped him from his horse, and he was laid beneath a tree.\nHis spine was broken in two places; and he felt within himself that he\nwas dying. He took his sword, and kissed the cross-hilt, murmuring aloud\nthe Latin prayer, \"_Miserere mei, Deus, secundum magnam misericordiam\ntuam_.\"\n\nThe Spaniards were approaching. His friends made some attempt to raise\nhim and to bear him from the field. But the least movement made him\nfaint with agony; and he felt that all was vain. He charged his\ncompanions, as they loved him, to turn his face toward the enemy, and to\nretire into a place of safety; and he sent, with his last breath, his\nsalutation to the king. With breaking hearts they did as he desired, and\nhe was left alone.\n\nWhen the Spaniards reached the spot, they found him still alive, but\nsinking fast. The conduct of Lord Pescara, the Spanish general, toward\nhis dying foe, was worthy of a great and noble knight. He bade his own\npavilion to be spread above him; cushions were placed beneath his head;\nand a friar was brought, to whom he breathed his last confession. As he\nwas uttering the final words, his voice faltered, and his head fell. The\nfriar looked upon his face--and saw that all was over.\n\n\n\n\nGUSTAVUS VASA[11]\n\n         [Footnote 11: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess.]\n\nBy CHARLES F. HORNE\n\n(1496-1560)\n\n\nThree or four hundred years ago the little country of Denmark was of\nmuch greater importance than it is to-day. It had the mightiest navy in\nthe world, and its rule over the seas was undisputed. Its appearance on\nthe map was also very different then, for it not only extended over much\nof the German territory now surrounding it, but also held all Norway as\na province. Sweden, too, though often rebelling, and being punished with\nterrible cruelty, was, up to the year 1523, a dependency of the Danish\ncrown.\n\nNaturally the Danes rather looked down on the conquered Swedes, and made\nthem the subject of many rude jests and taunts. There was in the\nbeginning of the sixteenth century at the great Danish university at\nUpsala a Swedish boy, who with the rest of his countrymen must have\nsuffered many such insults. His proud, brave, little heart rebelled\nagainst this treatment; and one day, when his teacher had driven him\nbeyond endurance with his severe punishments and bitter sneers, the boy\nsnatched out his little sword and plunged it straight through the\nmaster's book. \"I will teach you something, too,\" he cried; \"teach you\nthat the Swedes are no cowards, for some day I will gather them together\nand treat every Dane in Sweden as I do your book.\" Then he rushed out of\nthe school, never to return.\n\n[Illustration: Gustavus Vasa.]\n\nMany lads have, in some moment of passion made big boasts of what they\nwould do \"some day.\" Few ever made so tremendous a vaunt; fewer still\never so completely fulfilled their threats; and, perhaps, no one ever\nstruggled so patiently, so nobly, nor against such tremendous obstacles\nbefore the goal was reached, as did this angry little Swede, known to\nhistory as Gustavus Vasa. He was born in 1496, and was the oldest son of\nSir Eric Johansson, governor of a little group of islands in the Gulf of\nBothnia. Returning home after his precipitate flight from school,\nGustavus grew up under the eye of his stalwart father, who trained him\nto be not only a strong and a shrewd man, but also a good one.\n\nSent at the age of eighteen to the court of Svante Sture, the regent\ngoverning Sweden, he threw himself eagerly into the great war for\nfreedom which his countrymen had begun under that mighty leader. This\nstruggle was so far successful that four years later King Christian, of\nDenmark, utterly defeated on land and with his fleet in sore danger\nanchored off Stockholm, and proposed a peace. He asked that hostages be\nsent to remain on his ships, while he was on shore arranging the treaty.\nThis was readily agreed to, and the hostages went on board without a\nthought of evil, the king having guaranteed their safe return. Young\nVasa, although only twenty-two, had already gained such prominence among\nthe patriots as to be one of those selected for this duty. Just as he\nand his companions reached the ships, the wind, which had hitherto blown\nfrom such a direction that King Christian was unable to leave the\nharbor, suddenly changed, and the king as promptly changing his plans,\nhoisted sail and fled from Stockholm, carrying with him, as prisoners,\nthe hostages whom he was bound in honor to respect. But this grim and\ncruel old king never at any time let himself be checked by his promised\nword; and now he seriously considered slaying these men as rebels and\ntraitors. Finally he concluded to hold them as prisoners.\n\nGustavus was placed for safe keeping in the castle of Eric Bauer, a\nJutland noble, where he remained for two years. He lived on the very\npoorest food, and far worse, had to endure taunts a hundred times more\nbitter than those of his old school days, from the young nobles about\nhim. Worse still, he learned from them that King Christian was gathering\nanother and greater army with which to utterly crush the rebellious\nSwedes; and he could neither warn his countrymen nor raise a finger to\ngive them help. But his courage and patience never failed him. Through\nall that weary time he was always planning and watching for a chance to\nescape. At last it came. Deceived by his apparent indifference his\njailers permitted him to ride, and even to hunt with them, but always\nunder a careful watch. One day, however, the hunt grew so exciting that\neveryone forgot Gustavus and rode hard and fast after the game. He saw\nhis opportunity, and rode hardest and fastest of all. Soon he was first\nin the race; but he did not stop when he reached the captured deer.\nThere was no one in sight and he hurried on faster than ever. When his\nhorse gave out he pressed forward on foot, and nightfall found him forty\nmiles from the castle. He astonished a countryman by trading clothes\nwith him; and the next day, thus disguised, he hired himself to a drover\nto help him drive a herd of cattle to the great German city of Lubeck.\nProbably no cattle had ever been so driven before. Our hero knew well\nthat the pursuit would be fast and furious, and he kept the herd almost\non a steady run. The old drover was in a perpetual state of amazement;\nhe did not know whether to regard his new assistant as a madman or as\nthe most valuable hand he had ever hired. Gustavus never let the poor\nold fellow rest a moment; he had to eat his meals as he walked, and even\nto totter along half asleep. At last animals and men reached Lubeck, all\nbadly worn out, but safe, for Lubeck was a free city and a powerful one,\nand when, an hour later, the enraged Eric Bauer galloped up to its great\ngates, he knew that his prisoner was beyond his reach, and that unless\nhe could persuade the citizens to give him up there was no chance of\nrecapturing him.\n\nThe citizens did not give Gustavus up. He and his jailer were brought\nface to face before the City Council to argue their case. When Eric said\nhis prisoner had broken his word in escaping, Gustavus related how the\nking had broken his in the capture. When Eric threatened them all with\nhis master's wrath, the shrewd old burghers laughed. They knew King\nChristian had other things to keep him busy enough, and that he would\nthink twice before attacking their great league of cities. Besides, this\nyoung man had already shown that he could do great things, and, as one\nof the Council said, \"Who knows what he may win if we send him home.\" So\nEric was forced to leave without his captive; and after some delay,\nduring which he was treated with high honor, Gustavus was sent home by\nthe kind Lubeckers with the promise to help him, if need be, with both\nmen and money.\n\nIndeed Sweden needed all the help she could get just then; but it did\nnot seem as though one man could do much for her. King Christian had\ncarried out his threats, and landing with a great army, defeated the\nbrave Sture and spread terror and destruction through all the land. The\ntale of his cruelty and treacheries belongs rather to the history of\nSweden than of Gustavus. Enough to say that, having by promises of\npeace and pardon got all the leading Swedes into his power, he had them\nmurdered, and then he and his soldiers went on slaying the common people\nright and left in mere wanton savagery. All the surviving nobles were in\nhis pay; the least suspicion of an uprising was crushed with an iron\nhand, the least murmur of discontent brought death. Never had Sweden\nseemed more helpless in the power of the Danes.\n\nTo this unhappy country came Gustavus Vasa, and at once he was declared\nan outlaw, and a great price was offered for his head; for the king knew\nthat here survived one man whom he could neither terrify nor bribe. One\ncastle still held out against the besieging Danes, and for this Gustavus\nset out. But its defenders were disheartened by their hopeless position,\nand were almost on the point of surrender. They answered angrily to his\nbrave words, and he left them to try and rouse the peasantry all over\nthe land.\n\nNow began for him such a period of danger, sorrow, and privation, as few\nmen could have endured and lived. The land was filled with Danes eager\nfor his capture. The peasants were timid and disheartened. To his\npassionate patriotic appeal they answered only, \"We have salt and\nherring still. If we rebel we will lose them too.\" Often they drove him\naway with stones. Sometimes his own countrymen would have slain him for\nthe promised reward. At length it was no longer possible for him to\nremain in Southern Sweden, and with a single servant he fled to the\nhighlands of Dalecarlia, a province in the north. From this on his life\nreads like some wild romance of adventure. He had the grim courage and\ngrit and perseverance of a bull-dog. Nothing could dishearten him in his\nseemingly hopeless and insane resolve to raise the Swedes once more\nagainst Christian.\n\nHe found as much devotion in some places, as he did treachery in others.\nHaving crossed a ferry in advance of his servant, this latter rode off\nwith their small stock of money. Gustavus plunged his horse into the\nriver, and riding back after the faithless servitor, pursued him all day\nstraight back into the enemy's country, until the terrified thief,\nabandoning horse and money and all, fled into the woods. Gustavus\nrecovered his property and pursued his course. The Danes swarmed into\nDalecarlia after him. He disguised himself as a woodcutter, and lived as\nsuch. One day he met in the woods a giant Dalesman named Liss Lars, and,\nas they were chatting together, a great bear attacked Gustavus. After a\nfierce battle Lars slew the brute with a blow of his axe. The two\nwoodcutters became friends, and Lars got his companion a place under the\nsame master as himself, where Gustavus remained a whole winter\nunsuspected. Often he himself was questioned by the Danish spies,\nhunting for the now famous Vasa.\n\n[Illustration: Abdication of Gustavus Vasa.]\n\nOnce there was like to have been trouble between the two friends, for\nLars loved a maiden at the farm, who out of coquetry often smiled at\nGustavus, until the giant Dalesman became terribly jealous. One day when\nshe brought them their noon-day ale, she handed it first to Gustavus,\nwho, after drinking, returned it with a pleasant word and a pat on the\ncheek. With a roar like a mad bull, Lars rushed on his comrade and\nseized him in his giant arms. As he did so he saw around his neck the\nembroidered collar worn by the Swedish nobility. The astounded Dalesman\nstaggered back, pointing to it. \"Either thou art a thief, or the great\nGustavus himself.\" \"Ay, friend Lars, I am the outlaw Gustavus, son of\nEric. Now, wilt thou hand me over to the Danes, or smash my head against\nthe floor, as just now thou seemedest minded?\" \"I will swear eternal\nfealty to thee,\" cried Lars; \"and if thou raisest the standard of\nrevolt, I will be the first to join.\"\n\nSoon, however, even this retired spot became too unsafe, and Gustavus\nfled farther north. Once an old schoolmate offered him shelter, and\nthen, while Gustavus slept, rode away to get help to capture him. But\nthe housewife, suspecting her husband's treachery, roused Gustavus, who\nclimbed through a window twenty feet from the ground, and escaped on a\nhorse the good woman had provided.\n\nAt another time, by burying himself in a load of hay he was carried past\nsome Danish soldiers who were searching for him. They thrust their\nspears through the hay and then rode on. One of the spears wounded the\nhidden man, and, seeing the blood trickle down, the soldiers hurried\nback. But the driver had snatched out his knife and given a slight cut\nto one of his horses; and when he pointed to this, charging one of them\nwith having done it, they rode away again laughing at their own\nsuspicions. In a hundred other equally dangerous situations he escaped\neither by his own courage, or by the ready wit of the brave Dalecarlian\npeasants; and at last the Danish spies gave up the hunt for him, and\nreturned to Stockholm.\n\nThen he came forth again, and in ringing words urged the people to\nrevolt. But though they loved Gustavus, and loved Sweden, yet they held\nback in doubt and fear from his daring plans; and so the hero left them,\nand went on through the surrounding provinces, telling everywhere of\nKing Christian's cruelty, and sowing seed which was to ripen later on.\nYet nowhere could he rouse the peasants to action, until word came that\nthe cruel king had sworn to cut a hand and foot from every man in\nSweden, that they might never revolt again. Now all felt that there was\nnothing left but fight. In great haste the Dalecarlians sent after\nGustavus and brought him back. They held a great meeting, and to it came\nGustavus' wood-cutter friend, Liss Lars. He made a great homely speech,\nsaying, \"This Gustavus, son of Eric, is a man. He has threshed with me,\nand I know him. We can trust him, and sense has he, more than all of us\nput together. He must be our leader.\"\n\nAll swore fealty to Gustavus; and he bade them make swords and spears\nand arrows on their own anvils, while he went on again to rouse the\nother provinces. King Christian had been called home by a rumor of\nrebellion there, but his lieutenants thought to crush this little\nuprising of the Dalecarlians as easily as they had a few others, and one\nof them marched promptly there with a large force. The brave peasants,\nled by Liss Lars and another, attacked him as he was crossing a river\nand defeated him with great slaughter. Gustavus heard rumors of the\nbattle, and that his little army was destroyed. In wild haste he\ngalloped back to Dalecarlia to find them celebrating their victory.\n\nNow did the men he had roused in every quarter come pouring in; and he\ndrilled them, and trained them, and encouraged them, became head and\nhand and heart for them all, till soon he had such an army that he might\nfairly hope to match any force the Danes could bring against him. Then\nhe sent out a proclamation declaring Christian deposed for his cruel and\nbloody tyranny, and calling all true Swedes to join him in making war\nupon the oppressor.\n\nThus did this young man at twenty-five become the leader of a great\nrebellion, which he himself had created and controlled. He led his men\nagainst one fortress after another. There were long sieges and terrible\nbattles; but Gustavus proved himself as great a general as he was a man;\nand two years later, in 1525, Stockholm, the last town remaining to the\nDanes in Sweden, surrendered to his army. Christian himself had been\nunable to leave Denmark, but he was in constant communication with his\nlieutenants, and wild was his rage at the continued success of his young\nopponent. Gustavus's mother and sister, with many other Swedish ladies,\nhad fallen into the king's hands at the time of those wholesale murders;\nand he tried to frighten the hero with threats of what he would do to\nthem; but poor Gustavus had learned only too surely that most of them\nwere already dead from his cruel treatment. Finally this brute was\ndeposed by his own subjects, and a new king chosen. This king made some\nfaint attempts to recover Sweden, but he had small chance against such a\nman as Vasa.\n\nThe hero and his army entered Stockholm in triumph; and such of the old\nnobles as were left, gathered in a council and offered him the crown\nwhich he had wrested from Denmark. He refused it, saying he had labored\nfor his country, not himself, and bade the nobles choose from among\nthemselves some older man. But the whole country cried out that they\nwould submit to no man but him; he had freed them, he should rule them.\nSo there was, what seldom has been in history, a free choice of a king\nby a united people; and Gustavus, son of Eric, became Gustavus I., King\nof Sweden. Five years before he had been carried off a helpless, almost\nfriendless prisoner, by a mighty king. Now they had, by sheer force of\ncharacter, changed places; the king was in a dungeon, Gustavus on a\nthrone.\n\nThough the remainder of our hero's life was less adventurous, it was no\nless noble. He made, as all had foreseen, a great king, showing himself\nas wise and high-minded as he had already proven brave and patient. He\nfound Sweden a petty province, he left it a mighty kingdom; he found it\na wilderness, poor, thinly peopled, and semi-barbarous, he left it\nprosperous, populous, and civilized. He himself was the head and centre\nof all this, performing an amount of work which seems almost impossible\nfor one man. His letters, some of which remain, are clear, minute in\ndetail, and exact. He knew just how he wanted things done, and he had\nthem done his way. His own life might be summed up in his advice to his\ntwo sons, given when, only a few months before his death, he resigned a\ncrown grown too heavy for his failing strength. \"Think carefully,\nexecute promptly, _never give up_, never delay. Resolves not carried out\nare like clouds without rain in times of drought.\"\n\n\n\n\nMARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS\n\nBy SAMUEL L. KNAPP\n\n(1542-1587)\n\n[Illustration: Mary, Queen of Scots.]\n\n\nMary Stuart, Queen of Scots, was the third child of James V. and his\nwife, Mary of Guise. That lady had borne him previously, two sons, both\nof whom died in infancy. Mary was born on December 7, 1542, in the\npalace of Linlithgow. She was only seven days old when she lost her\nfather, who, at the time of her birth, lay sick at the palace of\nFalkland.\n\nThe young queen was crowned by Cardinal Beaton, at Stirling, on\nSeptember 9, 1543. Soon after her birth, the Parliament nominated\ncommissioners, to whom they intrusted the charge of the queen's person,\nleaving all her other interests to the care of her mother. The first two\nyears of her life, Mary spent at Linlithgow, where it is said she had\nthe small-pox, but the disease must have been of a particularly gentle\nkind, having left behind no visible traces. During the greater part of\nthe years 1545, 1546, and 1547, she resided at Stirling Castle, in the\nkeeping of Lords Erskine and Livingstone. She was afterward removed to\nInchmahome, a sequestered island in the lake of Monteith; after\nremaining there upward of two years, it was thought expedient by those\nwho had at the time the disposal of her future destiny, that she should\nbe removed to France. She was accordingly, in the fifth year of her age,\ntaken to Dunbarton, where she was delivered to the French admiral, whose\nvessels were waiting to receive her; and attended by Lords Erskine and\nLivingstone, her three natural brothers, and four young ladies as\ncompanions, she left Scotland.\n\nThe thirteen happiest years of Mary's life were spent in France. She was\nreceived at Brest, by order of Henry II., with all the honors due to her\nrank and royal destiny. She travelled by easy stages to the palace at\nSt. Germain en Laye; and to mark the respect that was paid to her, the\nprison gates of every town she came to were thrown open, and the\nprisoners set free. Shortly after her arrival she was sent, along with\nthe king's own daughters, to one of the first convents in France, where\nyoung ladies of distinction were instructed in the elementary branches\nof education.\n\nHenry, to confirm the French authority in Scotland, was eager to marry\nFrancis, his son, to Mary. Francis, the young dauphin, who was much\nabout Mary's own age, was far inferior to her both in personal\nappearance and mental endowments. They had been playmates from infancy;\nthey had prosecuted all their studies together; he loved her with the\ntenderest affection; it was not in Mary's nature to be indifferent to\nthose who evinced affection for her; and if her fondness for Francis was\nmingled with pity, it has long been asserted that \"pity is akin to\nlove.\"\n\nOn April 24, 1558, the nuptials took place in the church of Notre Dame,\nwith great splendor. Every eye was fixed on the youthful Mary; and,\ninspired by those feelings which beauty seldom fails to excite, every\nheart offered up prayers for her future welfare and happiness. She was\nnow at that age when feminine loveliness is perhaps most attractive. It\nis not to be supposed, indeed, that her charms, in her sixteenth year,\nhad ripened into that full-blown maturity which they afterward attained;\nbut they were on this account only the more fascinating. Some have\nconjectured that Mary's beauty has been extolled far above its real\nmerits; and it cannot be denied that many vague and erroneous notions\nexist regarding it. But that her countenance possessed, in a pre-eminent\ndegree, the something which constitutes beauty, is sufficiently attested\nby the unanimous declaration of all contemporary writers. Her person was\nfinely proportioned, and her carriage exceedingly graceful and\ndignified.\n\nShortly after the espousals, Mary and her husband retired to one of\ntheir princely summer residences, where she discharged the duties of a\nwife without ostentation. But the intriguing and restless ambition of\nher uncles could not allow her to remain long quiet. About this time\nMary Tudor, who had succeeded Edward VI. on the English throne, died;\nand although the Parliament had declared that the succession rested in\nher sister Elizabeth, it was thought proper to claim for Mary Stuart a\nprior right. But it was destined that there was to be another and more\nunexpected death at the French court. Henry II. was killed at a\ntournament by Count Montgomery. Francis and Mary succeeded to the\nthrone. Mary was now at the very height of European grandeur, for she\nwas queen of two powerful countries, and heir presumptive of a third.\nShe stood unluckily on too high a pinnacle to be able to retain her\nposition long. Francis died after a short reign of seventeen months, and\nthe heir to the throne Charles IX., being a minor, Catharine de Medicis\nbecame once more virtually queen of France; and from her Mary could\nexpect no favors.\n\nIn August, 1561, Mary left France with tears, and was received in\nScotland with every mark of respect. She came, alone and unprotected, to\nassume the government of a country which had long been distinguished for\nits rebellious turbulence. Contrasted, too, with her former situation,\nthat which she was now about to fill appeared particularly formidable.\nBy whatever counsel she acted, the blame of all unpopular measures would\nbe sure to rest with her. If she favored the Protestants, the Catholics\nwere sure to renounce her, and if she assisted the Catholics, the\nProtestants would be again found assembling at Perth, listening, with\narms in their hands, to the sermons of John Knox, pulling down the\nremaining monasteries, and subscribing additional covenants. Is it\nsurprising, then, that she found it difficult to steer her course\nbetween the rocks of Scylla and the whirlpools of Charybdis? If\nmisfortunes ultimately overtook her, the wonder unquestionably ought to\nbe, not that they ever arrived, but that they should have been guarded\nagainst so long.\n\nTo further their political views, Mary's hand was sought for by princes\nof the several European courts. The princes of the house of Austria,\napprehensive of the ambition of France, wished a union between the\nScottish queen and the Archduke Charles. Philip II., envying the\nAustrians so important a prize, used all his influence to procure her\nhand for his son Don Carlos, heir to the extensive domains of the\nSpanish monarchy. Catharine de Medicis, jealous of them both, offered\nthe hand of the Duke of Anjou, brother to her former husband, and\nElizabeth, the artful queen of England, recommended Lord Robert Dudley,\nafterward Earl of Leicester.\n\nMary shunned all their intrigues, and followed the bent of her own\ninclination in marrying Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley, eldest son of the\nEarl of Lennox. Darnley, at this time in the bloom of youth, was\ndistinguished for the beauty and grace of his person, and accomplished\nin every elegant art; and he also professed the Catholic religion.\nDarnley's qualifications, however, were superficial, and abandoning\nhimself to pleasure and the vices of youth, he became gradually careless\nand indifferent toward the queen, whose disappointments and\nmortifications were in proportion to the fervor of her former\nsentiments. Her French secretary was one David Rizzio, who was possessed\nof musical talents, and to whom she became much attached. Darnley became\njealous of Rizzio, and he, with a number of conspirators, took\npossession of the palace on March 9, 1566, while the queen was at supper\nwith the Countess of Argyle and Rizzio. The latter clung to the queen\nfor protection, but he was torn from her and dragged to the next\napartment, where the fury of his enemies put an end to his existence, by\npiercing his body with fifty-six wounds. The conspirators put Mary under\nguard, but she escaped, and by the aid of Bothwell and others, she was\nsoon enabled to put her enemies at defiance. This event served to\nalienate Mary's affections from Darnley.\n\nOn June 19, 1566, the queen gave birth to a son; an event more fortunate\nto the nation than to his unhappy mother, whose evil destiny received\naggravation from a circumstance which appeared so flattering to her\nhopes.\n\nDarnley, neglected by the queen, and despised by the people, remained in\nsolitude at Stirling, but alarmed by the rumor of a design to seize his\nperson, he thought fit to retire to his father at Glasgow. On his way\nthither he was seized with a dangerous illness. Mary visited him, and\nit is said prevailed on him to be removed to the capital, where she\nwould attend on him. Kirk of Field, a house belonging to the provost of\na collegiate church, was prepared for his reception. The situation, on a\nrising ground and in an open field, was recommended for the salubrity of\nits air.\n\nAt two o'clock on the morning of February 10, 1567, the city was alarmed\nby a sudden explosion. The house in which Darnley resided was blown up\nwith gunpowder. The dead body of Henry and a servant, who slept in his\nroom, were found lying in an adjacent garden, without marks of violence,\nand untouched by fire. Thus perished Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley, in his\ntwenty-first year, a youth whom the indulgence of nature and fortune had\ncombined to betray to his ruin.\n\nThis execrable deed gave rise to various suspicions and conjectures,\nwhich, while they glanced at the queen from her new sentiments with\nregard to her husband, were, with a general consent, directed toward\nBothwell. A proclamation was issued from the throne, offering a\nconsiderable reward for the murderer. Neither the power and greatness of\nBothwell, nor his favor with the queen, secured him from the indignant\nsentiment of the nation. He had a mock trial, in which he was acquitted.\n\nThe queen, on a journey from Edinburgh to Stirling, to visit her son,\nwas seized by a party of Bothwell's and conducted a prisoner to his\ncastle at Dunbar. Here he prevailed on her to marry him, and on her\nsubsequent appearance in public she was received with a sullen and\ndisrespectful silence by the people.\n\nThe transactions which had passed during the last three months in\nScotland were beheld by Europe with horror and detestation. The murder\nof the king, the impunity with which his assassins were suffered to\nescape, and the marriage of the queen with the man accused of being\ntheir chief, were a series of incidents, which, for their atrocity and\nrapid succession, were scarcely to be paralleled in the pages of\nhistory. A general infamy fell upon the Scotch nation, which was\nregarded, from these circumstances, as a people void of decency,\nhumanity, and honor.\n\n[Illustration: Mary Stuart and Rizzio.]\n\nThe discontented nobles confederated together and flew to arms. Bothwell\nand Mary were unable to stem the opposition; she surrendered to her\nenemies, and was conducted a captive to the castle of Lochleven. Mary\nhad for some weeks suffered the terrors of a prison; of her deliverance\nthere seemed to be but little prospect; no one had appeared as her\ndefender or advocate. Thus solitary, deserted, and distressed, her\npersecutors reckoned on her fears and on her sex. Lord Lindsay, the\nfiercest zealot of the party, was employed to communicate their plan to\nthe queen, and to obtain from her a subscription to the papers with\nwhich he was charged. In the execution of his commission, he spared\nneither harshness nor brutality; certain death was offered to the\nunhappy victim, as the alternative of her refusal. Thus urged, she\nyielded to the pressure of circumstances, and put her signature to the\npapers presented to her by Lindsay. By one of these papers she resigned\nthe crown, renounced all share in the government, and consented to\nthe coronation of the young king. By another, she appointed Murray to\nthe regency, and vested him with the powers and privileges of the\noffice. Pierced with grief, and bathed in indignant tears, she signed\nthe deed of her own humiliation, and furnished to her adversaries the\ninstrument of her abasement.\n\nThe people were not generally satisfied with the conduct of Murray, the\nregent, and the scattered party of the queen began gradually to reunite.\nSuch was the disposition of the nation when Mary, through the medium of\nGeorge Douglas, a youth of eighteen, contrived to escape from prison.\nShe flew on horseback, at full speed, to Hamilton, where, before a train\nof great and splendid nobles, and an army 6,000 strong, she declared\nthat the deeds signed by her during her imprisonment, and the\nresignation of her crown, were extorted from her by fear. An engagement\nbetween her forces and those of Murray took place at Hamilton; her army\nwas defeated. She stood on a hill and saw all that passed. In confusion\nand horror she began her flight, and so terrible was the trepidation of\nher spirits, that she stopped not till she reached the abbey of\nDunrenan, in Galloway, fully sixty Scottish miles from the field of\nbattle. In the space of eleven days she had beheld herself a prisoner,\nat the mercy of her greatest enemies; at the head of a powerful army,\nwith a numerous train of nobles devoted to her service; and a fugitive,\nat the hazard of her life, driven, with a few attendants, to lurk in a\ncorner of her kingdom. Still anxious and agitated in her retreat, she\nwas impelled by her fears to an irretrievable step, fatal to all her\nfuture hopes. In vain her attendants, with the lords Herries and Heming,\nimplored her on their knees not to confide in Elizabeth, her resolution\nwas not to be shaken, and to England she fatally resolved to fly. No\nlonger an object of jealousy, but compassion, Mary trusted in the\ngenerosity of a sister queen, that she would not take advantage of her\ncalamitous situation. She got into a fisherman's boat, and with about\ntwenty attendants, landed at Workington, in Cumberland, whence, with\nmarks of respect, she was conducted to Carlisle.\n\nShe addressed, on her arrival in England, a letter to the queen, in\nwhich she painted in glowing colors the injuries she had sustained, and\nimplored the sympathy and assistance which her present situation so\npressingly required. Elizabeth and her council deliberated upon the\ncourse which, in this extraordinary event, it would be proper to pursue;\nand at last determined, in spite of justice and humanity, to avail\nherself of the advantages given her by the confidence of her rival. Mary\ndemanded a personal interview with Elizabeth, but this honor she was\ntold must be denied to her. She had no intention of acknowledging\nsuperiority in the queen of England, who, she expected, would, as a\nfriend, herself receive and examine her defences. But Elizabeth chose to\nconsider herself as umpire between the Scottish queen and her subjects;\nand she prepared to appoint commissioners to hear the pleadings of both\nparties, and wrote to the Regent of Scotland to empower proper persons\nto appear in his name, and produce what could be alleged in vindication\nof his proceedings.\n\nMary, who had hitherto relied on the professions of Elizabeth, was by\nthis proposal at once undeceived, and she was, in despite of her\nremonstrances and complaints, conducted to Bolton, a castle of Lord\nScroop, on the borders of Yorkshire. Commissioners met on both sides,\nand after protracted deliberations for four months, they left things\njust as they found them.\n\nThe last eighteen years of Mary's life were spent in imprisonment, and\nare comparatively a blank in her personal history. She was transported,\nat intervals, from castle to castle, and was intrusted sometimes to the\ncharge of one nobleman, and sometimes to another; but for her the active\nscenes of life were past; the splendor and dignity of a throne were to\nbe enjoyed no longer; the sceptre of her native country was never more\nto grace her hands; her will ceased to influence a nation; her voice did\nnot travel beyond the walls that witnessed her confinement. She came\ninto England at the age of twenty-five, in the prime of womanhood, the\nfull vigor of health, and the rapidly ripening strength of her\nintellectual powers. She was there destined to feel, in all its\nbitterness, that \"hope deferred maketh the heart sick.\" Year after year\npassed slowly on, and year after year her spirits became more exhausted,\nher health feebler, and her doubts and fears confirmed, till they at\nlength settled in despair. Premature old age overtook her before she was\npast the meridian of life; and for some time before her death, her hair\nwas white \"with other snows than those of age.\" Yet, during the whole of\nthis long period, amid sufferings which would have broken many a\nmasculine spirit, and which, even in our own times, have been seen to\nconquer those who had conquered empires, Mary retained the innate grace\nand dignity of her character, never forgetting that she had been born a\nqueen, or making her calamities an excuse for the commission of any\npetty meanness, which she would have scorned in the days of her\nprosperity. Full of incident as her previous life had been, brilliant in\nmany of its achievements, it may be doubted whether the forbearance,\nfortitude, and magnanimity displayed in her latter years, do not redound\nmore highly to her praise than all that preceded. Elizabeth wished for\nsome plausible pretext to take away the life of the unhappy Mary, whom,\nthough so defenceless, she regarded as a dangerous rival. The Duke of\nNorfolk made offers of marriage to Mary, to which she consented, in case\nshe should be liberated. His scheme also was to favor the Catholic\ncause, and on its being discovered he was thrown into prison, where,\nafter six months' confinement, he was liberated, on condition of his\nholding no further intercourse with the queen. He was, however, arrested\nthe second time, and executed.\n\nA conspiracy soon after took place, through the blind affection of the\nEnglish Catholics for Mary, and their implacable hatred of Elizabeth;\nthat, while it proved fatal to the life of one queen, has left on the\nmemory of the other an indelible stain. It was a conspiracy of two\nzealous Catholics, to take the life of Elizabeth. The plot was revealed\nin confidence to Anthony Babington, a young gentleman of Derbyshire,\npossessing a large fortune and many amiable qualities, whom the\nArchbishop of Glasgow had recommended to the notice of Mary. The\nconspirators, through treachery, were arrested, and it is said two\nletters from Mary were found with Babington. This was a pretext to\nrepresent these fanatics as the instruments of the captive queen.\nDetermined that no circumstance of solemnity suited to the dignity of\nthe person arraigned might be wanting, Elizabeth appointed, by a\ncommission under the great seal, forty persons, the most illustrious in\nthe kingdom for their rank and birth, together with five judges, for the\ndecision of the cause.\n\nOn October 11, 1586, the commissioners arrived at Fotheringay, where\nMary was confined. She solemnly protested her innocence of the crime\nlaid to her charge, and having never countenanced any attempt against\nthe life of Elizabeth, she refused to acknowledge the jurisdiction of\nthe commissioners. \"I came,\" said she, \"into the kingdom an independent\nsovereign, to implore the queen's assistance, not to subject myself to\nher authority. Nor is my spirit so broken by past misfortunes, or\nintimidated by present dangers, as to stoop to anything unbecoming the\nmajesty of a crowned head, or that will disgrace the ancestors from whom\nI am descended, and the son to whom I shall leave my throne.\"\n\nMary made her own defence; and her conduct before her judges displayed\nthe magnanimity of a heroine, tempered by the gentleness and modesty of\na woman. The judges were predetermined to find her guilty: the trial was\na mere pretence to give a sanction to their proceedings; they were\nunanimous in declaring Mary \"to be accessory to the conspiracy of\nBabington, and to have imagined divers matters, tending to the hurt,\ndeath, and destruction of Elizabeth, contrary to the express words of\nthe statute made for the security of the life of the queen.\"\n\nOn Tuesday, February 7, 1587, the Earls of Shrewsbury and Kent arrived\nat Fotheringay, and read in Mary's presence the warrant for her\nexecution, which was appointed for the ensuing day. \"That soul,\" said\nMary, calmly crossing herself, \"is unworthy the joys of heaven, which\nrepines because the body must endure the stroke of the axe. I submit\nwillingly to the lot which heaven has decreed for me; though I did not\nexpect the Queen of England would set the first example of violating the\nsacred person of a sovereign prince.\" Then laying her hand on a Bible,\nwhich happened to be near her, she solemnly protested her innocence.\n\nAt the scaffold she prayed for the prosperity of her son, and for a long\nand peaceable reign to Elizabeth. She hoped for mercy, she declared,\nonly through the death of Christ, at the foot of whose image she\nwillingly shed her blood. With intrepid calmness she laid her neck on\nthe block; her hands were held by one executioner, while the other, with\ntwo blows, dissevered her head from her body. \"So perish all the enemies\nof Elizabeth!\" exclaimed the dean, as he held up the streaming head.\n\"Amen,\" answered the Earl of Kent alone; every other eye was drowned in\ntears; every other voice was stifled in commiseration. Thus, after a\nlife of forty-four years and two months, nineteen years of which had\nbeen passed in captivity, perished the lovely and unfortunate Mary,\nQueen of Scots.\n\n\n\n\nCAPTAIN JOHN SMITH[12]\n\n         [Footnote 12: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess.]\n\nBy MARION HARLAND\n\n(1579-1631)\n\n[Illustration: Captain John Smith.]\n\n\nOf the antecedents of John Smith, Esquire, Captain and Knight, little is\nrecorded beyond the facts that he was of gentle blood and honorable\nlineage, and that he was born in Lancashire, England, in 1579.\n\nHe was still under age when he enlisted as a private soldier and fought\nwith \"our army\" in Flanders. Sigismund Bathor, Duke of Transylvania, was\nwarring with the Turks, and young Smith, athirst for adventure, next\ntook service under him. Before the Transylvanian town of Regall, he\nkilled three Turkish officers in single combat, for which doughty deed\nhe was knighted. The certificate of Sigismund's patent empowering the\nEnglishman to quarter three Turks' heads upon the family coat-of-arms is\nin the Herald's Office in London.\n\nThe tables were turned by his subsequent capture by the Turks. He was\nsent to Tartary as a slave, not a prisoner of war, and compelled to\nperform the most ignoble tasks, until, escaping by killing his brutal\nmaster, he made his way by his wits to his native country in 1604. He\nwas now twenty-five years of age, and emphatically a soldier of fortune.\nThe tale of his prowess and adventures had preceded him, and he was\neagerly welcomed in London by kindred spirits who were preparing to\nemigrate to America to form the colony of Virginia under the grant and\ndirect patronage of James I. By the time the enterprise was ripe for\nexecution, Smith had made himself so useful in counsel and preparation\nthat the king named him as one of the councillors of the prospective\ncolony.\n\nThe boundary lines of the royal grant were two hundred miles north, and\nthe same distance south, of the mouth of the James River, and east and\nwest \"from sea to sea.\"\n\nOn December 19, 1606, the band of adventurers, 100 in number, embarked\nat Gravesend in three small vessels. Christopher Newport was in command,\nbut Smith, and his close allies, Bartholomew Gosnold and George Percy, a\nyounger brother of the Duke of Northumberland, were the ruling spirits\nof the voyagers. Carpenters and laborers were oddly jumbled upon the\nlist of emigrants with jewellers, perfumers, and gold refiners, and\n\"gentlemen\" held prominence in numbers and influence. The officers\noutnumbered the privates. The little fleet was hardly out of the offing\nwhen the struggle for power began. The voyage was not half accomplished\nwhen John Smith was charged with complicity in a discovered mutiny. He\nhad intended, it was alleged, to murder his superiors, seize the fleet,\nand make himself king of Virginia. The \"General History of Virginia\"\ntells how serious an aspect the affair wore:\n\n\"Such factions here we had, as commonly attend such voyages, that a\npaire of gallowes was made, but Captain Smith, for whom they were\nintended, _could not be persuaded to use them_.\"\n\nHe was still under suspicion and arrest when the fleet anchored (May 13,\n1607) in the broad river, Powhatan, to which the English explorers gave\nthe name of their king. Their first tents were pitched and first cabins\nbuilt upon a low peninsula flanked by extensive marshes. The settlement\nreceived the name of Jamestown, in further demonstration of loyalty.\n\nWhen the king's sealed orders were opened, the name of John Smith\nappeared second upon the roll of seven councillors appointed to govern\nthe infant colony. Next to him Gosnold was fittest for the responsible\nposition assigned to them. His death within three months after the\nlanding, left Smith the object of the envious distrust of Wingfield, who\nhad been elected president, and virtually alone in the honest desire to\nfound a permanent settlement in Virginia for ends he thus sets forth:\n\n\"Erecting towns, peopling countries, informing the ignorant, reforming\nthings unjust, teaching virtue and gain to our native Mother Country.\"\n\nThere is a prophetic ring in this remarkable utterance of one whom his\ncontemporaries persisted in regarding as a reckless adventurer,\nambitious and unscrupulous. His frank denunciation of the feeble\nmeasures of Wingfield and the selfish villainy of Ratcliffe, another\ncolleague, had earned the ill-will of the president and the relentless\nhatred of Ratcliffe. Smith, being under arrest, was not allowed to take\nhis place among the councillors. He bided the day of justice with\npatience learned from adversity. When the supreme opportunity came he\ngrasped it. An attack from hostile Indians proved Wingfield's unfitness\nfor the military command, and the alarmed colonists turned instinctively\nto the bravest of their number. Wingfield anticipated the uprising by\nreiterating his intention of sending Smith to England for trial, for the\ndouble crime of mutiny and treason.\n\n\"The restive soldier suddenly flamed out. He would be tried in Virginia\nas was his right--there was the charter! and the trial took place. The\nresult was a ruinous commentary on the characters of Wingfield and the\ncouncil. The testimony of their own witnesses convicted them of\nsubornation of perjury to destroy Smith. He was acquitted by the jury of\nall the charges against him, and Kendall, who had conducted the\nprosecution, was condemned to pay him L200 damages. This sum was\npresented by Smith to the colony for the general use, and then the foes\npartook of the commission, and the soldier was admitted to his seat in\nthe council.\" (Cooke's \"History of Virginia.\")\n\nBy autumn the settlement was fearfully reduced in numbers and spirits.\nFever, engendered by marshland malaria and famine, threatened utter\nextinction.\n\n\"From May to September, those who escaped lived upon sturgeon and\nsea-crabs; 50 in this time were buried,\" writes one of the sufferers.\n\"The rest, seeing the president's projects to escape these miseries in\nour pinnace by flight (who all this time had neither felt want or\nsickness), so moved our dead spirits as we deposed him and established\nRatcliffe in his place.\"\n\nIt was an exchange of inefficiency for deliberate wickedness, and in the\nexcess of continued misery the more reasonable of the victims arose as a\nman and put Smith at the head of affairs.\n\nThe \"terrible summer\" left hardly ten men who could wield axe or hoe.\nSmith himself was ill with malarial fever, yet nursed the sick, prayed\nwith the dying, and kept up the hearts of all by brave words and braver\naction. He bought corn and meat of the Indians when they would sell, and\nwhen they refused, secured supplies by intimidation. Yet we find him, as\nsoon as the immediate peril was over, again the subordinate of envious\nleaders, and volunteering to satisfy malcontents in America and in\nEngland, by heading a party in mid-December to attempt the discovery of\nthe great \"South Sea,\" for so long the _ignis fatuus_ of Western\nadventurers.\n\nThe explorers sailed up the James, diverging here and there into the\ntortuous creeks of the Chickahominy. When stopped by shallows, Smith\nprocured a canoe and Indian guides and pushed on with but two other\nwhite men (Robinson and Emry) into the unknown wilderness, teeming with\nspies jealous of the foreign intruders. Attempting to land at\n\"Powhatan,\" one of \"the emperor's\" residences, he and his guide sank\ninto the morass and were fired upon from the shore.\n\n\"The salvages ... followed him with 300 bowmen, led by the king of\nPamunkee, who, searching the turnings of the river, found Robinson and\nEmry by the fire-side. These they shot full of arrowes and slew.\"\n\nSmith bound the Indian guide to his arm and used him as a shield, thus\nsaving his own life. He was, however, captured, lashed to a tree, and\nwould have been killed, but for his address in presenting the King\nOpecancanough with \"a round ivory double compass Dyall\"--his own pocket\ncompass--directing the attention of the \"salvages\" to the movement of\nthe needle, and describing the uses of the instrument.\n\n\"A month those Babarians kept him prisoner; many strange triumphes and\nconjurations they made of him, yet he so demeaned himself among them as\nhe not only diverted them from surprising the Fort, but procured his own\nlibertie, and got himself and his company such estimation among them\nthat these Salvages admired him as a demi-god.\"\n\nFrom the pen of a contemporary we have the account of what led to his\n\"libertie.\" He had killed two of the attacking party, and was condemned\nby Powhatan to die for the offence.\n\n[Illustration: Captain Smith saved by Pocahontas.]\n\n\"Having feasted him after their best barbarous manner they could, a long\nconsultation was held; but the conclusion was, two great stones were\nbrought before Powhatan, then, as many as could lay hands on him,\ndragged him to them, and thereon laid his head, and being ready with\ntheir clubs to beate out his brains, Pocahontas, the king's dearest\ndaughter, when no entreaty could prevaile, got his head in her armes,\nand laid her owne upon his to save him from death; whereat the emperor\nwas contented he should live to make him hatchets, and her bells, beads,\nand copper.\"\n\nFrom other pages we get the stage-setting for this, the most dramatic\nincident in colonial history.\n\nThe emperor had heard the evidence with a \"sour look,\" sitting in state\nupon a rude dais, covered with mats, his body wrapped in a cloak of\nraccoon skins. His dusky harem was grouped about him, watchful and\ninterested. When the trial was over he bade one wife to bring water to\nwash the captive's hands, another a bunch of feathers to dry them upon.\nThis was preliminary to the feast.\n\n\"So fat they fed Mee,\" says \"A True Relation of Virginia,\" published by\nSmith in 1608, \"that I much doubted they intended to have sacrificed mee\nto the Quioughquosiche, which is a superiour power they worship.\"\n\nThe appointment to the position of armorer in the royal household, and\ntrinket-maker to the princess, was one of honor. Smith enjoyed it for a\nmonth only, but to his residence at Powhatan and intimacy with\nPocahontas, he was indebted for the familiarity with Indian language and\ncustoms which was afterward of incalculable benefit to the Virginians.\nHe describes Pocahontas in respectful admiration:\n\n\"For features, countenance, and expression she much exceeded the rest.\"\n\nHer gala attire was a doeskin mantle lined with down from the breasts of\nwood-pigeons; bangles of coral bound her brown ankles and wrists, and in\nher hair was a white heron's feather in token of her royal blood. At the\ntime of her rescue of Smith she was about thirteen years old.\n\nIn January, 1608, the emperor offered Smith a forest principality if he\nwould remain with the tribe, but he petitioned to be allowed to return\nto Jamestown. The request was reluctantly granted, and an escort sent\nwith him to the \"Fort.\" This returned, bearing gifts for Powhatan and\nhis wives, with marvellous stories of the cannon-shot fired into the\nsleety forest at Smith's command. We cannot but wonder what toy or\nornament went to the petted child whom he had served in glad gratitude\nwhile a member of her father's household.\n\nHe had no time for sentimental musings. Upon the very day of his\nunlooked for return (January 8, 1608), Ratcliffe repeated Wingfield's\nattempt to escape to England in the only vessel left at Jamestown. The\nanchor was actually raised when Smith hastily collected a force and\nhurried to the landing. \"With the hazzard of his life, with sakre,\nfalcon, and musket shot, Smith forced\" (them) \"now the third time to\nstay or sinke.\"\n\nIn their sullen rage the foiled conspirators plotted and nearly executed\na fiendish revenge. Once more we copy from the \"General History,\"\nwritten by Smith and his friends.\n\n\"Some no better than they should be, had plotted with the president\"\n(Ratcliffe) \"the next day to have put him\" (Smith) \"to death by the\nLeviticall law for the lives of Robinson and Emry, pretending the fault\nwas his that had led them to their ends; but he quickly took such order\nwith such lawyers that he layd them by the heeles till he sent some of\nthem prisoners to England.\"\n\nThe colony was almost destitute of food, and the memories of the famine\nof last year terrified the imaginations of those who had lived through\nit. \"Gentlemen\" having again predominated in reinforcements sent from\nEngland, the crops planted and gathered in Smith's absence had been\nmeagre, while rats brought over in one of the vessels had wrought havoc\nwith stored grain. Like an angel of mercy was the apparition of\nPocahontas, at the head of a \"wild train\" of Indians laden with corn and\ngame, approaching the fort. \"Ever once in four or five days during the\ntime of two or three years,\" the young princess, thus attended, visited\nthe fort and succored the needy settlers. Smith declares that \"next\nunder God she preserved the colony from death, famine, and utter\nconfusion.\" He might have subjoined that, but for himself, not even\nPocahontas's bounty could have saved the settlement from the\nconsequences of misconduct and misrule.\n\nHis was the only voice lifted to condemn the mad folly of loading a\nhomeward-bound vessel with the glittering mud of a neighboring creek.\nThat he was \"not enamored of their dirty skill to freight such a drunken\nship with so much gilded dirt\"--was one of the mildest of his phrases,\nas, \"breathing out these and many other passions,\" he harangued those\nwho had \"no thought, no discourse, no hope, and no work but to dig gold,\nwash gold, refine gold, and load gold.\"\n\nBefore the English assayers confirmed his judgment as to the value of\nthis cargo, the intrepid adventurer had sailed, with fourteen others, up\nthe Chesapeake into new and wonderful regions. Never losing heart, even\nwhen he believed himself to be dying from the sting of a poisonous fish,\nhe discovered and entered the Potomac, the Rappahannock, and tributary\ncreeks, fighting his way when not allowed to proceed peaceably. In July\n(1608) he led another party to the spot now occupied by the city of\nBaltimore, and made friends with a tribe called Susquehannocks, believed\nto be sun-worshippers. Returning from these voyages of three thousand\nmiles in all, he drew in masterly style a chart of the countries\nexplored, and sent it to England.\n\nJamestown was still in a state of what he calls \"combustion,\" under the\ntyranny of Ratcliffe. Emboldened by Smith's return, the colonists\ndeposed the hated governor, and formally elected Smith Governor of\nVirginia. The winter closed in upon an \"affrighted\" population.\nStorehouses were nearly empty, agriculture having been neglected in the\ngold fever. As Smith could not be \"persuaded to use\" the gallows, so he\nnow announced that \"no persuasion could persuade _him_ to starve.\" In\ncompany with George Percy and fifty others, he visited his old ally\nPowhatan, and tried to buy food. A change had come to the emperor's\nheart. He addressed his quondam armorer as a \"rash youth;\" protested\nthat he was afraid of him, and would not treat with the English unless\nthey came to him unarmed. Warned by Pocahontas, who stole through the\nwoods after dark to apprise Smith that treachery was intended, the\nparty lay on their arms all night, and the force sent to surprise them\nretreated. Next day, Powhatan loaded the boats with corn, and Smith\nsailed up the York upon a similar errand to Opecancanough, Powhatan's\nbrother. While in audience with him, the Englishmen were surrounded by a\nband of seven hundred armed savages. Seizing the wily chieftain by the\nscalp-lock, Smith held a pistol to his breast, and demanded a cargo of\ncorn and safe-conduct for his party to Jamestown. The fifty men, without\nloss of a single life, took back enough food to victual the town.\n\nEarly in the spring of 1609, the president thus made known his policy to\nhis constituents:\n\n\"Countrymen! You see now that power resteth wholly in myself. You must\nobey this now for a law--_he that will not work shall not eat_. And\nthough you presume that authority here is but a shadow and that I dare\nnot touch the lives of any, but my own must answer for it, yet he that\noffendeth, let him assuredly expect his due punishment.\n\n\"I protest by that God that made me, since necessity hath no power to\nforce you to gather for yourselves, you shall not only gather for\nyourselves, but for those that are sick. _They_ shall not starve.\"\n\nFields were tilled, the fort was repaired, wise Powhatan treated the\npale-faces kindly for Smith's sake, and the emigrants felt for the first\ntime firm ground beneath their feet. They had twenty-four pieces of\nordnance, and three hundred stand of small-arms; three ships, seven\nboats, a store of more than two months' provisions, six hundred hogs,\nwith goats, fowls, and sheep, and an established trading-station with\nthe natives.\n\nLike an aerolite from the summer sky came news from England that a fleet\nwas to be sent out with a new colony, a new charter, and new officers;\nSmith's old enemy, Christopher Newport, was in command of the\nexpedition. Smith had been complained of at home as \"dealing harshly\nwith the natives and not returning the ships full-freighted.\" His day\nwas over. The king so willed it.\n\nSmith's last official act was the establishment of a colony at Powhatan,\nrenamed \"Nonsuch,\" opposite where the city of Richmond was laid out over\na century later. On his way back to Jamestown, he was cruelly wounded by\nthe explosion of a bag of gunpowder. There was no good surgeon in the\ncolony. To return forthwith to England was but anticipating by a few\nweeks what must be when the fleet arrived.\n\nHe returned to London at the age of thirty. \"He had broke the ice and\nbeat the path, but had not there\" (in Virginia) \"one foot of ground, nor\nthe very house he builded, nor the ground he digged with his own hands.\"\n\nIn 1614 he returned to America, but now to the northern region assigned\nto the Plymouth Company. He gave name to Boston; explored and made a\nsurvey of the New England coast. On a second voyage he had a fight with\na French squadron, was captured, and taken to Rochelle. While there he\nwrote a \"Description of New England,\" for which service James I.\nappointed him \"Admiral of New England.\" He died in London, in 1631, at\nthe age of fifty-two, never having revisited Virginia. Upon his tomb, in\nthe Church of St. Sepulchre's, London, may be still traced the outlines\nof the Three Turks' Heads and the inscription, beginning:\n\n  \"_Here lies one conquered that hath conquered kings._\"\n\nAny sketch of his life, however brief, would be incomplete that\ncontained no reference to the letter written by him to Queen Anne (the\nconsort of James I.), in 1616, recommending the Lady Rebecca Rolfe to\nthe royal favor.\n\nHe would \"be guilty of the deadly poison of ingratitude,\" he wrote, if\nhe failed to narrate what he and the colony at Jamestown owed to\nPocahontas. He besought the queen's kindly consideration for the\nstranger just landed upon her shores, as due to Pocahontas's \"great\nspirit, her desert, birth, want, and simplicity.\" His one call upon the\nwife of John Rolfe, Gentleman, was marked by profound respect on his\npart to one whom he accosted as \"Lady Rebecca;\" by profound emotion on\nhers.\n\nJohn Smith's biography and epitaph are best summed up by one of his\nbrothers-in-arms:\n\n     \"What shall I saye, but thus we lost him that in all his\n     proceedings made justice his first guide and experience his\n     second, ever hating basenesse, sloth, pride, and indignitie more\n     than any dangers; that never allowed more for himself than for\n     his soldiers with him; that upon no danger would send them where\n     he would not lead them himselfe; that would never see us want\n     what he either had or could by any means get us; that would\n     rather want than borrow, or starve than not pay; that loved\n     action more than wordes, and hated falsehood and covetousnesse\n     worse than death; whose adventures were our lives and whose losse\n     our deaths.\"\n\n[Signature: Marion Harland.]\n\n\n\n\nWILLIAM HARVEY\n\n(1578-1657)\n\n\nWilliam Harvey was born on April 1, 1578, at Folkestone, on the southern\ncoast of Kent. He was the eldest of nine children; of the rest little\nmore is known, than that several of the brothers were among the most\neminent merchants in the city of London during the reigns of the two\nfirst Stuarts. His father, Thomas Harvey, followed no profession. He\nmarried Joanna Falke, at the age of twenty, and lived upon his own\nestate at Folkestone. This property devolved by inheritance upon his\neldest son; and the greater part of it was eventually bequeathed by him\nto the college at which he was educated.\n\nAt ten years of age he commenced his studies at the grammar school in\nCanterbury; and upon May 31, 1593, soon after the completion of his\nfifteenth year, was admitted as a pensioner at Caius College, Cambridge.\n\n[Illustration: William Harvey.]\n\nAt that time a familiar acquaintance with logic and the learned\nlanguages was indispensable as a first step in the prosecution of all\nthe branches of science, especially of medicine; and the skill with\nwhich Harvey avails himself of the scholastic form of reasoning in his\ngreat work on the Circulation, with the elegant Latin style of all his\nwritings, particularly of his latest work on the Generation of Animals,\naffords a sufficient proof of his diligence in the prosecution of these\npreliminary studies during the next four years which he spent at\nCambridge. The two next were occupied in visiting the principal cities\nand seminaries of the Continent. He then prepared to address himself to\nthose investigations to which the rest of his life was devoted; and the\nscene of his introduction to them could not have been better chosen than\nat the University of Padua, where he became a student in his\ntwenty-second year.\n\nThe ancient physicians gathered what they knew of anatomy from\ninaccurate dissections of the lower animals, and the slender knowledge\nthus acquired, however inadequate to unfold the complicated functions of\nthe human frame, was abundantly sufficient as a basis for conjecture, of\nwhich they took full advantage. With them everything became easy to\nexplain, precisely because nothing was understood; and the nature and\ntreatment of disease, the great object of medicine, and its subsidiary\nsciences, was hardily abandoned to the conduct of the imagination, and\nsought for literally among the stars. Nevertheless, so firmly was their\nauthority established, that even down to the close of the sixteenth\ncentury the naturalists of Europe still continued to derive all their\nphysiology, and the greater part of their anatomy and medicine, from the\nworks of Aristotle and Galen, read not in the original Greek, but\nre-translated into Latin from the interpolated versions of the Arabian\nphysicians. The opinions entertained by these dictators in the republic\nof letters, and consequently by their submissive followers, with regard\nto the structure and functions of the organs concerned in the\ncirculation, were particularly fanciful and confused; so much so that it\nwould be no easy task to give an intelligible account of them that would\nnot be tedious from its length. It will be enough to say, that a\nscarcely more oppressive mass of mischievous error was cleared away from\nthe science of astronomy by the discovery of Newton, than that from\nwhich physiology was disencumbered by the discovery of Harvey.\n\nBut though the work was completed by an Englishman, it is to Italy that,\nin anatomy, as in most of the sciences, we owe the first attempts to\ncast off the thralldom of the ancients. Mundinus had published a work\nin the year 1315, which contained a few original observations of his\nown; and his essay was so well received that it remained the text-book\nof the Italian schools of anatomy for upward of two centuries. It was\nenriched from time to time by various annotators, among the chief of\nwhom were Achillini, and Berengarius, the first person who published\nanatomical plates. But the great reformer of anatomy was Vesalius, who,\nborn at Brussels in 1514, had attained such early celebrity during his\nstudies at Paris and Louvain, that he was invited by the Republic of\nVenice, in his twenty-second year, to the chair of anatomy at Padua,\nwhich he filled for seven years with the highest reputation. He also\ntaught at Bologna, and subsequently, by the invitation of Cosmo de'\nMedici, at Pisa. The first edition of his work, \"De Corporis Humani\nFabrica\" was printed at Basle, in the year 1543; it is perhaps one of\nthe most successful efforts of human industry and research, and from the\ndate of its publication begins an entirely new era in the science of\nwhich it treats. The despotic sway hitherto maintained in the schools of\nmedicine by the writings of Aristotle and Galen was now shaken to its\nfoundation, and a new race of anatomists eagerly pressed forward in the\npath of discovery. Among these no one was more conspicuous than\nFallopius, the disciple, successor, and in fame the rival, of Vesalius,\nat Padua. After him the anatomical professorship was filled by Fabricius\nab Aquapendente, the last of the distinguished anatomists who flourished\nat Padua in the sixteenth century.\n\nHarvey became his pupil in 1599, and from this time he appears to have\napplied himself seriously to the study of anatomy. The first germ of the\ndiscovery which has shed immortal honor on his name and country was\nconceived in the lecture-room of Fabricius.\n\nHe remained at Padua for two years; and having received the Degree of\nDoctor of Arts and Medicine, with unusual marks of distinction, returned\nto England early in the year 1602. Two years afterward he commenced\npractice in London and married the daughter of Dr. Launcelot Browne, by\nwhom he had no children. He became a Fellow of the College of\nPhysicians, when about thirty years of age, having in the meantime\nrenewed his degree of Doctor in Medicine, at Cambridge; and was soon\nafter elected Physician to St. Bartholomew's Hospital, which office he\nretained till a late period of his life.\n\nOn August 4, 1615, he was appointed Reader of Anatomy and Surgery to the\nCollege of Physicians. From some scattered hints in his writings it\nappears that his doctrine of the circulation was first advanced in his\nlectures at the college about four years afterward; and a note-book in\nhis own hand-writing is still preserved at the British Museum, in which\nthe principal arguments by which it is substantiated are briefly set\ndown, as if for reference in the lecture-room. Yet with the\ncharacteristic caution and modesty of true genius, he continued for nine\nyears longer to reason and experimentalize upon what is now considered\none of the simplest, as it is undoubtedly the most important known law\nof animal nature; and it was not till the year 1628, the fifty-first of\nhis life, that he consented to publish his discovery to the world.\n\nIn that year the \"Exercitatio Anatomica de Motu Cordis et Sanguinis\" was\npublished at Frankfort. This masterly treatise begins with a short\noutline and refutation of the opinions of former anatomists on the\nmovement of the animal fluids and the function of the heart; the author\ndiscriminating with care, and anxiously acknowledging the glimpses of\nthe truth to be met with in their writings; as if he had not only kept\nin mind the justice due to previous discoveries, and the prudence of\nsoftening the novelty and veiling the extent of his own, but had\nforeseen the preposterous imputation of plagiarism, which, with other\ninconsistent charges, was afterward brought forward against him. This\nshort sketch is followed by a plain exposition of the anatomy of the\ncirculation, and a detail of the results of numerous experiments; and\nthe new theory is finally maintained in a strain of close and powerful\nreasoning, and followed into some of its most important consequences.\nThe whole argument is conducted in simple and unpretending language,\nwith great perspicuity, and scrupulous attention to logical form.\n\nThe doctrine announced by Harvey may be briefly stated thus: The blood\ncirculates through the body, thereby sustaining life. The heart is\nsimply the pump which drives the blood through the arteries, from whence\nit returns impure, and is then forced through the lungs and repurified.\n\nThe pulmonary circulation had been surmised by Galen, and maintained by\nhis successors; but no proof even of this insulated portion of the\ntruth, more than amounted to strong probability, had been given till the\ntime of Harvey, and no plausible claim to the discovery, still less to\nthe demonstration, of the general circulation has ever been set up in\nopposition to his. Indeed, its truth was quite inconsistent with the\nideas everywhere entertained in the schools on the functions of the\nheart and other viscera, and was destructive of many favorite theories.\nThe new doctrine, therefore, as may well be supposed, was received by\nmost of the anatomists of the period with distrust, and by all with\nsurprise. Some of them undertook to refute it, but their objections\nturned principally on the silence of Galen, or consisted of the most\nfrivolous cavils; the controversy, too, assumed the form of personal\nabuse even more speedily than is usually the case when authority is at\nissue with reason. To such opposition Harvey for some time did not think\nit necessary to reply; but some of his friends in England, and of the\nadherents to his doctrine on the Continent, warmly took up his defence.\nAt length he was induced to take a personal share in the dispute in\nanswer to Riolanus, a Parisian anatomist of some celebrity, whose\nobjections were distinguished by some show of philosophy, and unusual\nabstinence from abuse. The answer was conciliatory and complete, but\nineffectual to produce conviction; and in reply to Harvey's appeal to\ndirect experiment, his opponent urged nothing but conjecture and\nassertion. Harvey once more rejoined at a considerable length; taking\noccasion to give a spirited rebuke to the unworthy reception he had met\nwith, in which it seems that Riolanus had now permitted himself to join;\nadducing several new and conclusive experiments in support of his\ntheory; and entering at large upon its value in simplifying physiology\nand the study of diseases, with other interesting collateral topics.\nRiolanus, however, still remained unconvinced; and his second rejoinder\nwas treated by Harvey with contemptuous silence. He had already\nexhausted the subject in the two excellent controversial pieces just\nmentioned, the last of which is said to have been written at Oxford\nabout 1645; and he never resumed the discussion in print. Time had now\ncome to the assistance of argument, and his discovery began to be\ngenerally admitted. To this, indeed, his opponents contributed, by a\nstill more singular discovery of their own, namely, that the facts had\nbeen observed, and the important inference drawn, long before. This was\nthe mere allegation of envy, chafed at the achievements of another,\nwhich, from their apparent facility, might have been its own. It is\nindeed strange that the simple mechanism thus explained should have been\nunobserved or misunderstood so long; and nothing can account for it but\nthe imperceptible lightness as well as the strength of the chains which\nauthority imposes on the mind.\n\nIn the year 1623 Harvey became physician extraordinary to James I., and\nseven years later was appointed physician to Charles. He followed the\nfortunes of that monarch, who treated him with great distinction during\nthe first years of the civil war, and he was present at the battle of\nEdgehill, in 1642. Having been incorporated doctor of physic by the\nUniversity of Oxford, he was promoted by Charles to the wardenship of\nMerton College, in 1645; but he did not retain this office very long,\nhis predecessor, Dr. Brent, being reinstated by the Parliament after the\nsurrender of Oxford in the following year.\n\nHarvey then returned to London, and resided with his brother Eliat at\nCockaine house, in the Poultry. About the time of Charles's execution he\ngave up his practice, which had never been considerable, probably in\nconsequence of his devotion to the scientific, rather than the\npractical, parts of his profession. He himself, however, attributed his\nwant of success to the enmity excited by his discovery. After a second\nvisit to the Continent, he secluded himself in the country, sometimes at\nhis own house in Lambeth, and sometimes with his brother Eliat at Combe,\nin Surrey. Here he was visited by his friend, Dr. Ent, in 1651, by whom\nhe was persuaded to allow the publication of his work on the \"Generation\nof Animals.\" It was the fruit of many years of experiment and\nmeditation; and, though the vehicle of no remarkable discovery, is\nreplete with interest and research, and contains passages of brilliant\nand even poetical eloquence. The object of his work is to trace the germ\nthrough all its changes to the period of maturity; and the illustrations\nare principally drawn from the phenomena exhibited by eggs in the\nprocess of incubation, which he watched with great care, and has\ndescribed with minuteness and fidelity. The microscope had not at that\ntime the perfection it has since attained; and consequently Harvey's\naccount of the first appearance of the chick is somewhat inaccurate, and\nhas been superseded by the observations of Malpighi, Hunter, and others.\nThe experiments upon which he chiefly relied in this department of\nnatural history had been repeated in the presence of Charles I., who\nappears to have taken great interest in the studies of his physician.\n\n[Illustration: Harvey demonstrating the Circulation of the Blood.]\n\nIn the year 1653, the seventy-fifth of his life, Harvey presented the\nCollege of Physicians with the title-deed of a building erected in their\ngarden, and elegantly fitted up, at his expense, with a library and\nmuseum, and commodious apartments for their social meetings. Upon this\noccasion he resigned the professorship of anatomy, which he had held for\nnearly forty years, and was succeeded by Dr. Glisson.\n\nIn 1654 he was elected to the presidency of the college, which he\ndeclined on the plea of age; and the former president, Sir Francis\nPrujean, was re-elected at his request. Two years afterward he made a\ndonation to the college of a part of his patrimonial estate, to the\nyearly value of L56, as a provision for the maintenance of the library,\nand the annual festival and oration in commemoration of benefactors.\n\nAt length his constitution, which had long been harassed by the gout,\nyielded to the increasing infirmities of age, and he died in his\neightieth year, on June 3, 1657. He was buried at Hempstead, in Essex,\nin a vault belonging to his brother Eliat, who was his principal heir,\nand his remains were followed to the grave by a numerous procession of\nthe body of which he had been so illustrious and munificent a member.\n\nIn person he was below the middle size, but well proportioned. He had a\ndark complexion, black hair, and small, lively eyes. In his youth his\ntemper is said to have been very hasty. If so, he was cured of this\ndefect as he grew older; for nothing can be more courteous and temperate\nthan his controversial writings; and the genuine kindness and modesty\nwhich were conspicuous in all his dealings with others, with his\ninstructive conversation, gained him many attached and excellent\nfriends. He was fond of meditation and retirement; and there is much in\nhis works to characterize him as a man of warm and unaffected piety.\n\n\n\n\nPRINCE CHARLES STUART[13]\n\n         [Footnote 13: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess.]\n\nBy ANDREW LANG, LL.D.\n\n(1720-1788)\n\n\nCharles Edward Stuart, called the \"Young Pretender\" by his enemies, the\n\"Young Chevalier\" by neutrals, \"Prince of Wales\" and \"Prince Regent\" by\nhis partisans, \"Prince Edouard\" by the French, \"Ned\" by his intimates,\nas we read in letters of Oliphant of Gask, and \"Prince Charlie\" by later\ngenerations, was born at Rome, December 31, 1720. His father was James\nVIII., of Scotland, and III. of England, according to the Legitimist\ntheory; his foes called him \"The Pretender,\" partly on the strength of\nthe old fable about the warming-pan, so useful to the Whigs. No sane\nperson now doubts the genuineness of James' descent from James II., but\nthe nickname of Pretender still sticks, though Boswell tells us that\nGeorge III. particularly disliked an appellation which \"may be\nparliamentary, but is not gentlemanly.\" James III., or the Chevalier de\nSt. George, was taken up by Louis XIV. on the death of James II., in\nFrance. He is said to have displayed courage in several battles in\nFlanders, but his attempt to assert his rights in 1715 was a melancholy\nfailure. James showed melancholy and want of confidence; he soon left\nScotland for the Continent, and the best that can be said for his\nconduct is that he endeavored to compensate the peasants whose houses\nwere destroyed in the military operations of \"the Fifteen.\" Unable to\nreside in France, he retired to Rome, a pensioner of the Pope, and\nentertained with royal honors. In 1719 he married Clementina Sobieski, a\ngranddaughter of the famous John Sobieski, who delivered Europe from the\nTurks. Their eldest son, Prince Charles, appears to have inherited the\nspirit and daring of his Polish ancestors, which animated him throughout\nhis youth, and were extinguished less by Culloden than by the treatment\nwhich he received from the French court, by his imprisonment in\nVincennes in 1748, and by the unrelenting animosity of the English\nGovernment, which made him a homeless exile living mysteriously in\nhiding on the Continent. Heart-broken by these misfortunes and by other\ndisappointments, Charles developed an unreasoning and sullen obstinacy,\nwhich alienated his adherents, while the habit of heavy drinking,\nlearned in his Highland distresses, ruined his head and heart, and\nconverted the most gallant, gay, and promising of princes into a brutal\ndipsomaniac.\n\n[Illustration: Prince Charles Stuart.]\n\nThe education of Charles was casual and interrupted. Now he was in the\nhands of Protestants, now of Catholic governors and tutors, as the\nadvice of English adherents, or the wishes of his devout mother, chanced\nto prevail. There were frequent quarrels between James and his wife,\nturning partly on the question of education, more on the jealousy which\nthe queen conceived of the Countess of Inverness. The Pope sided with\nthe queen in these melancholy broils, and James's private life (which\nwas not faultless) was much more subject to criticism and interference\nthan that of his at least equally lax rival on the English throne. A\nsecond son, Henry Benedict, Duke of York, was born in 1725, and, at one\ntime, was regarded as of more martial disposition than Prince Charles.\nAs the elder, Charles was first under fire, and at the siege of Gaeta,\nin 1734, while a mere boy, he displayed coolness, daring, and contempt\nof danger. Young Henry, aged nine, \"was so much discontented at being\nrefused the partnership of that glory and that danger, that he would not\nput on his sword till his father threatened to take away his garter\ntoo,\" says Murray of Broughton, in a letter dated 1742. In later life\nthe Duke of York showed no military aptitude. A kind of progress which\nCharles made through the cities of Italy, aroused his desire to be a\nprince in more than name. The English Government quarrelled with the\nRepublic of Venice about the royal honors paid to the prince, and his\nambition was awakened. His education, we have said, was very imperfect.\nMurray of Broughton, indeed, credits him with Latin, Greek, history, and\nphilosophy. But his spelling in both French and English was unusually\nbad, even in an age of free spelling; he wrote _epoles_ for _epaules_,\n\"Gems\" for \"James,\" \"sord\" for \"sword.\" He did not neglect physical\nexercise; was wont to make long marches without stockings, to harden his\nfeet (as he told a follower during his Highland distresses). He was a\ngood shot, fond of hunting, and, about 1742, was probably the first man\nwho ever played golf in Italy. Murray describes him as \"tall above the\ncommon stature, his limbs cast in the most exact mould, his complexion\nof an uncommon delicacy, all his features perfectly regular and well\nturned, and his eyes the finest I ever saw.\" Whether they were blue or\nhazel is undecided; they are hazel in at least one contemporary\nportrait. As a boy, engravings show him pretty, merry, and buoyant; an\nair of melancholy may be remarked as early as 1744. With bright\nnut-brown hair, golden in the sun, and worn long beneath his peruke, he\ncertainly justified the endearing name of \"Bonny Prince Charlie.\" The\ndistinction of his air could be concealed by no disguise, as his\nfollowers loved fondly to declare. He certainly had the royal memory for\nfaces. At the opera, in 1773, he noticed an English officer opposite,\nwhom he sent for. The gentleman visited the royal box, accompanied by a\nScotch servant. \"I have seen you before,\" said Charles to this man. \"You\nonce brought me a message at Falkirk, in 1746.\"\n\nSuch was Prince Charles when, in 1742, Murray of Broughton became\nacquainted with the royal exile in Rome, and was appointed secretary for\nScotland. With Lochiel and others, Murray formed a Jacobite association\nin his native country. Negotiations were begun with the French court,\nwhich hung off and on, as did the English Jacobites. They would rise, if\nFrance supplied men, money, and arms. France would do this if\nsufficiently assured of support in England. The king had no enthusiasm\nfor the enterprise. He was weary of promises and of leaning on that\nbroken reed, Louis XV. Murray intrigued in Scotland, Lord Elcho in\nEngland, Kelly at the French court. Lord Semple confused all by false\nhopes; Charles was much in the hands of Irishmen--Sheridan, Sullivan,\nO'Brien, and O'Neil; already a \"forward,\" or Prince's party was growing,\nas opposed to the waiting policy and party of the disheartened and\nunambitious James. To what extent English Jacobites were pledged is\nuncertain. There was much discontent with the Hanoverian dynasty in\nEngland, but the dread of popery was strong among the middle classes.\nThe butchers were advised that Catholics ate no meat on Sundays, the\nofficial clergy preached Protestant sermons, the Jacobite gentry feared\nfor their lives and estates in case of failure, and the sagacity of the\nGovernment has never revealed the extent to which the Duke of Beaufort\nand others were committed to King James. The universities, the sporting\nsquires, and the smugglers drank to \"The king over the water,\" but there\nenthusiasm began and ended.\n\nMore was expected, and till assured of more, France held aloof, while\nmaking promises enough. Even the Highland chiefs said that without a\nFrench army nothing could be done. In 1744 Charles left Rome, under\npretext of a hunting party, concealed his withdrawal with great skill,\nand reached Paris. He was obliged, however, to be incognito and was not\nreceived by the king. An invading force was crowded on board ship. The\nchance seemed excellent, England's forces being mainly abroad; but the\nold friends of England, the winds, drove the battered fleet back into\nharbor, and Charles in vain tried to persuade the Earl Marischal to\naccompany him to Scotland in a small fishing vessel.\n\nOne result followed the reception of Charles by France, niggardly as\nthat reception was--war with England broke out, and the French army of\ninvasion was moved from Dunkirk to Flanders. The prince, not permitted\nto serve in the French army, returned to Paris, where he had been\nfalsely assured by Semple and AEneas Macdonald that England was ready to\nrise for him. Murray, who visited him in Paris, tried to dissuade him\nfrom a wild venture; in Scotland he found the chiefs of his own opinion,\nbut the letter carrying the news never reached the prince. His Irish\nfriends urged him on; \"the expedition was entirely an Irish project.\" He\nborrowed money from his bankers, the Waters, he pawned his share of the\nSobieski jewels, and, with a privateer man-of-war and a brig, La\nDoutelle, he left Belleisle on July 13, 1745. Neither the French court\nnor his father knew that, attended only by seven men, \"The Seven Men of\nMoidart,\" he had set out to seek for a crown. The day before he embarked\nhe wrote to James; he said that no man would buy a horse, nor trust a\nprince, that showed no spirit. \"I never intend to come back,\" he added.\nSo, dressed as a student of the Scots College, he started. He lost his\nconvoy, the Elizabeth, on the way, after a drawn battle with the Lion\n(Captain Brett). Resisting all advice to turn back, as AEneas Macdonald,\nwho accompanied him, narrates, he held on in La Doutelle, and reached\nErisca, an islet between Barra and South Uist, on August 2, 1745. An\neagle hovered over his ship, and Tullibardine hailed the royal bird as a\nhappy omen. But he found himself unwelcome. Boisdale bade him go home;\n\"I _am_ at home,\" said the prince. He steered for Moidart, the most\nbeautiful but the wildest shore of Scotland, a region of steep and\nserrated mountains, of long salt-water straits, winding beneath the\nbases of the hills, and of great fresh-water lochs. Loch Nahuagh was his\nport; here he received Clan Ranald, whose desolate keep, Castle Tirrim,\nstands yet in ruins, since \"the Fifteen.\" Glenaladale (whose descendants\nyet hold their barren acres), Dalilea, and Kinlochmoidart (now, like\nClan Ranald, landless men) met him with discouraging words. But, seeing\na flash in the eyes of a young Macdonald, of Kinlochmoidart, Charles\nsaid, \"You will not forsake me?\" \"I will follow you to death, were no\nother sword drawn in your cause.\"\n\nThe chiefs caught fire, Charles landed, with the seven men of\nMoidart--AEneas Macdonald, the Judas of the cause; the Duke of Athol\n(Tullibardine), who had been out in the fifteen; Sheridan, the prince's\ntutor; Sir John Macdonald; Kelley, a parson who had been in Atterbury's\naffair; Strickland, an Englishman; and Buchanan. Young Lochiel was\ndisinclined to join, but yielded to the fascination of the prince. With\nhis accession the rising was a certainty. But Duncan Forbes of Culloden,\nthe lord president, had influence enough to hold back the Macleods of\nSkye, to paralyze the shifty Lovat, and to secure the Sutherland house\nfor the Hanoverian cause. Charles left Boisdale for Kinlochmoidart, \"the\nhead of Loch Moidart,\" where an avenue of trees, the prince's walk, is\nstill shown, though the old house was burned after Culloden. Keppoch cut\noff a small party of Scots Royal; this was first blood for the Jacobite\ncause. The wounded were hospitably treated by Lochiel; the English\ncaptain was released on parole. Charles now crossed the steep hills\nbetween Kinlochmoidart and the long narrow lake of Loch Sheil, there he\ntook boat, and rowed past the lands of Glenaladale and Dalilea to\nGlenfinnan, where Tullibardine raised the standard, inscribed _Tandem\nTriumphans_. A statue of the prince, gazing southward, now marks the\nspot. The clans came in, and as Charles marched southeast, each glen\nsent down its warriors to join the stream. The clansmen, as a rule, had\nprobably little knowledge of or interest in the cause. They followed\ntheir chiefs. The surviving Gaelic poetry speaks much of the chieftains;\nof _Tearlach, righ nan Gael_, but little is said. It was the middle of\nAugust before the rulers of England received the news of the landing.\nThey at once set a reward of L30,000 on Charles's head, a proceeding\n\"unusual among Christian princes,\" said Charles, who was compelled by\nhis forces, and their threats of desertion, to follow the evil example.\nSir John Cope was sent with an English army to stop the prince. It\nappeared likely that the armies would meet about Dalwhinnie, now the\nhighest and bleakest part of the Highland Railway. The path then led\nover Corryarrack; Charles and his men raced for the summit, but Cope was\nnot to be seen. He had marched east and north, to Inverness, and all the\nsouth of Scotland lay open to the prince. He passed by Killiecrankie and\nBlair Athol to Perth; Cluny came in, with the Duke of Perth, and Lord\nGeorge Murray, Charles's most skilled general, who had been out at\nGlensheil, in 1719, and had learned the lesson of war in the Sardinian\narmy. How easily he won Edinburgh, how he held court at Holyrood, how he\nrouted Cope (who returned by sea) at Preston Pans or Gladsmuir, is\nfamiliar to all. His clemency was conspicuous; he wrote to James that he\nwould give up Holyrood to the wounded, rather than see them homeless.\nHome, a Whig volunteer, and the author of a Whiggish history,\nacknowledges the nobility of his conduct, and his \"foolish lenity\" (he\nwould not permit the execution of several persons who tried to\nassassinate him) is blamed by the fanatics who, in 1749, issued a wild\nCameronian manifesto, \"The Active Testimonies of Presbyterians.\" The\ncontrast with the savage brutalities of Cumberland is very notable. In\nthe battle the chiefs refused to let Charles lead the charge, but he was\nat the head of the second line, \"a pistol shot behind\" the first.\nPreston Pans was fought on September 21, 1745. That Charles dallied\nbefore Edinburgh Castle till October 21st was no fault of his. Some of\nhis men had gone home with booty, others were to be waited for, many of\nthe chiefs were in favor of holding Scotland under James as a separate\nkingdom, and it was only by constant personal appeals that the prince\npersuaded them to push south. Lord George's strategy deceived the\nEnglish, who knew not where to look for the Highlanders. They met at\nCarlisle, took it, passed through Preston and Manchester, gave\nCumberland the slip, and their advanced posts, six miles south of Derby,\nwere within a hundred and twenty miles of London. The army of Finchley\nwas unlikely to make a stand, the city was partly Jacobite, the mob were\nready for anything, when Lord George and the chiefs insisted on retreat.\nHistorians doubt which policy was the wiser; it is certain that success,\nif to be attained at all, could only be won by audacity. The chiefs,\nhowever, declared for a return and a junction with French forces then\nexpected. Charles wept and prayed to no avail. His army, as disappointed\nas himself, found their faces set to the north, and the prince, who had\never walked among the first ranks, leaving his carriage to old Lord\nPitsligo, now rode dejected and heart-broken. The retreat was rapid and\nable. At Clifton, Murray turned on the pursuing dragoons, headed a\nclaymore charge, and drove them back. A hapless garrison of Lancashire\nvolunteers was left to the tender mercies of Cumberland in Carlisle, and\nCharles went by way of Whiggish Dumfries (the house where he lodged is\nnow an inn) to Glasgow. To all intents and purposes the end had come.\nCharles had lost faith in the advisers who dragged him back from the\nsouth, he listened to Murray of Broughton and to his Irishry; he\nsuspected, unjustly but not unnaturally, the good faith of Lord George.\nHe dallied at Stirling, besieging the castle without proper artillery,\nand Hawley was sent to attack him. On January 17, 1746, the armies met\nat Falkirk. A storm of wind and rain blew at the backs of the\nHighlanders, they charged, scattered the enemy, drove them in flight,\nand cut up the Glasgow volunteers. But, in the dark and the mist they\nscarcely knew their own advantage. The pipers had thrown their pipes to\ntheir boys, had gone in with the claymore, and could not sound the\ncalls. Hawley wrote to Cumberland \"My heart is broke ... I got off but\nthree cannon of the ten.\" Hawley retreated to Edinburgh, the Duke of\nCumberland came to take the command; the Highlanders began to desert\nwith their booty, dissensions prevailed, and Charles went on besieging\nStirling. Again Lord George Murray urged a retreat, Charles dashed his\nhead in impotent rage against the wall of his room, but he had to\nfollow. With perfect truth he said:\n\n\"I cannot see anything but ruin and destruction to us all in case we\nshould think of a retreat;\" his forces in flight would lose heart, his\nenemies would gain confidence. All this was true, but all this was\nunavailing. Months were spent in unimportant movements. Cumberland,\nmeanwhile, instructed his men in the method of meeting a Highland\ncharge, and deceiving the parry of the Highland shields. It was known\nthat France would lend no substantial aid, and a French subsidy of\n30,000 _Louis d'or_ came too late, after the battle of Culloden, and was\nburied at the head of Loch Arkaig. One last chance Charles had: Lord\nGeorge proposed, and Charles eagerly seconded, a night surprise at\nNairn. But the delays on the march, and the arrival of dawn, made Murray\ncommand a retreat, and Charles's faith in him was irretrievably gone for\nthe time, though he later expressed in writing a more worthy opinion.\nWith 10,000 well-fed men against 5,000 who were starving, Cumberland had\nevery chance of victory at Culloden. The Macdonalds, placed on the left\nwing, would not charge. Keppoch's men were discontented because they\nwere not allowed to have a Catholic chaplain. Crying out, \"The children\nof my clan have forsaken me,\" Keppoch charged alone, and died the death\nof renown. Beaten and blinded by a storm of snow in their faces, the\nHighland right clove the ranks of Monro and Burrell, only to fall, in\nlayers three or four deep, before the fire of Sempill's regiment in the\nsecond line. The whole English force advanced; Charles rode to his\nsecond line, and offered to charge with them. His officers told him that\nit was in vain; Highlanders once beaten would not rally. (MS. \"Lyon in\nMourning,\" and MS. of Stuart Threipland at Abbotsford.) Charles was\nhurried off the field by his Irish tutor, and fled to Lord Lovat's, at\nGortuleg. A story of his lack of courage, told by Sir Walter Scott on\nthe authority of Sir James Stewart Denham's recollections of Lord\nElcho's MS., is erroneous. Lord Elcho's MS. does not contain the\nstatement. What he objects to is Charles's refusal to meet the fragments\nof his army at Ruthven, in Badenoch, whence they hoped to wage a\nguerilla warfare. Lord George Murray himself admits that the project was\nimpossible. Charles, however, should have gone to Ruthven, but he\ndistrusted Lord George; and his hope of a speedy voyage to France, where\nhe expected to receive aid in men and money, was frustrated.\n\nIt is needless to repeat the tale of Cumberland's almost incredible\nbutcheries, cruelties, and robberies, or to tell of the executions\naccompanied by the torture of disembowelling the living man. The story\nof Charles's wanderings and distresses is narrated best in the MS. \"Lyon\nin Mourning,\" partly printed by Robert Chambers, in \"Jacobite Memoirs.\"\nNo words can overpraise the loyalty of the starving Highlanders; neither\nEnglish tortures, nor the promise of L30,000, ever moved one man or\nwoman from their constant faith. Only one hungry boy whom Charles had\nfed, attempted to betray him, but was not believed. As for the prince,\nhe is briefly described by a companion as \"the most prudent man not to\nbe a coward, the most daring not to be foolhardy, whom he had ever\nknown.\" He showed a constant gayety, singing and telling tales to\nhearten his followers. His resource was endless; he was by far the best\ncook and the least fastidious eater of his company. He could cook a dish\nof cow's brains, or swallow raw oatmeal and salt-water. Surrounded by\nEnglish _cordons_, through which he slipped at night up the bed of a\nburn, when the sentinels had reached their furthest point apart, Charles\nled a little expedition which cut off the cattle intended for the\nprovender of his enemies. (MS. \"Lyon in Mourning.\") He would not even\nlet a companion carry his great-coat. He knew every extremity of hunger,\nthirst, and cold; and perhaps his most miserable experience was to lurk\nfor many hours, devoured by midges, under a wet rock. Unshorn, unwashed,\nin a filthy shirt, his last, he was yet the courteous prince in his\ndealings with all women whom he met, notably with Flora Macdonald, the\nstainless and courageous heroine of loyalty and womanly kindness. At\nlast, late in September, 1746, Charles, with Lochiel and many others,\nescaped in a French barque from Loch Nahuagh, where he had first landed.\nIt has been said of him by his enemies, especially by Dr. King, a\nrenegade, that he was avaricious and ungrateful. Letters and receipts in\nthe muniment room of a Highland chief show him directing large sums,\nprobably out of the Loch Arkaig treasure, to be paid to Lochiel, to\n\"Keppoch's lady,\" and to many poor clansmen. The receipts, written in\nhiding, and dried with snuff or sand, attest that the money came to the\npersons for whom it was intended.\n\nCharles' expedition could only be justified by success. That it failed\nwas due to no want of courage, or audacity, or resolve on his part, but\nto the very nature of a Highland army, to the jealousies of Irish and\nScotch, to the half-heartedness of his English partisans, and to the\nEnglish horror of his father's religion. By his own creed he held very\nloosely.\n\n[Illustration: The First Meeting of Prince Charles with Flora MacDonald.]\n\nIn France Charles was a popular hero, and adored by ladies. His\nappearance at court was magnificent, and for him the Princesse de\nTallemant made every sacrifice. But the Government was deaf to his\nappeals, a journey to Spain was fruitless; worst of all, his brother\nHenry, to whom he had been tenderly devoted, accepted a cardinal's hat,\non July 3, 1747. This was fatal. The English would never forgive a son\nof their so-called king who became a Romish priest; and the shadow of\nthe hat fell on Charles. From letters of James to the prince, it is\nplain that, for some reason, the Duke of York could not look forward to\nmarriage and to continuing the Stuart family. The young man, therefore,\nhaving also a vocation withal, accepted ecclesiastical rank, and a\ncluster of rich benefices. A breach between Charles and James followed,\nwhich was never healed, despite the touching letters of the king to his\n\"dearest Carluccio.\" Charles betook himself to adventurous and secret\nprojects. In the Highlands he had learned to seek the consolation of the\npoor, and to forget hunger, cold, misery, and sorrow in drink. He drank\n\"our best bowlsman,\" says an islander, under the table. The habit soon\ndominated him, and--with his disgraceful arrest and imprisonment, when\nhe refused to acknowledge the peace of Aix la Chapelle and to withdraw\nfrom France--soured his character and ruined his life. Released from\nVincennes, he hurried to the then Papal city of Avignon, where he\nintroduced boxing-matches. England threatened to bombard Civita Vecchia,\nand Charles had to depart. Whither he went no man knows. There is a\nJacobite tract of 1750, purporting to be written by his equerry, Henry\nGoring. According to this, Charles, Goring, and a mysterious Comte de la\nLuze (Marshal Keith?), went to Lyons, Dijon, Strasbourg. Here Charles\nrescued a beautiful girl from a fire, and honorably declined to take\nadvantage of her manifest passion for her preserver. The party was\nattacked by assassins, Charles shot two of them, La Luze and Goring\naccounted for others. They took ship from some northern coast, were\ntempest-driven to an unfriendly port, visited, apparently, Frederick the\nGreat, spent some time in Lithuania, and there are hints of a love\naffair, though Charles had already proclaimed that he would never\nmarry to beget royal beggars. He certainly visited Sweden; there was\ntalk of him as a candidate for the Polish crown. For many years\n(1749-1755) neither James nor the English Government knew where Charles\nreally was. Grimm says that for three years he lay hidden in the house\nof a lady in Paris, a friend of the Princesse de Tallemant. A sportsman\nand a lover of the open air is not likely to have loitered so long with\nArmida in a secret chamber. There is tattle about him in D'Argenson's\n\"Memoirs;\" a disguised shabby prince appears now and then, none knows\nwhence, and vanishes. In the papers of Charles Stuart, Comte d'Albanie,\none finds a trace of a visit paid by the prince to Ireland. There is\nevidence, in the State Papers, that he was not far from Paris, in June,\n1749. We have it under his own hand, in the Stuart Papers at Windsor,\nthat he visited London on September 5, 1750, returning to Paris on\nSeptember 13th. Here, as we know from the document left by Archibald\nCameron, Lochiel's brother, the last man executed for the rising, or\nrather for a later plot, Charles renounced the Catholic faith. Charles\nhimself gives 1750 as the date of this conversion. It came five years\ntoo late, and he recanted his recantation. He was in England again later\n(1752), and held his last council in Merriworth Castle in Kent. There is\na legend of his ghost haunting a house in Godalming, which probably\ncomes from a tradition of his residence there. Since 1750 or\nthereabouts, a Miss Clementina Walkinshaw, of Barrowfield, had been his\nmistress. He is said to have met her near Glasgow, and flirted with her;\nwhen or where she fled to him on the continent is obscure. Mr. Ewald\nsupposes her to have been with him in Paris before the affair of\nVincennes (1748). The writer, however, has seen a letter from Paris to a\nsister of Miss Walkinshaw describing the arrest at the Opera House,\nwithout the most distant allusion to Clementina, about whom her sister\nwould be concerned. Clementina, judging by a miniature, was a lady with\nvery large black eyes; a portrait in oil gives a less favorable view of\nher charms. In 1754 Charles was again in England, and in Nottingham. He\nactually walked in Hyde Park, where someone, recognizing him, tried to\nkneel to him. He therefore returned at once to France. He is reported to\nhave come back in 1755 or 1756, braving the reward of L30,000 for his\nhead. The Jacobites now requested him to dismiss Clementina Walkinshaw,\nwhose eldest sister was a lady housekeeper in the Hanoverian family. A\nscrap in Charles's hand at Windsor proves that he regarded some lady as\na possible traitor, but he declined to be dictated to, in his household\nmatters, by his adherents. This gave the English Jacobites an excuse for\nturning their coats, of which they availed themselves. Sir Walter Scott\nmakes the romance of \"Redgauntlet\" hang on the incident. About this time\njottings of Charles prove that he fancied himself a Republican. He hated\nLouis XV., and declined on one occasion to act as a bug-bear\n(_epouvantail_), at the request of France. He had already struck a medal\nin honor of the British Navy and contempt of the French. He is now lost\nsight of till 1760, when Miss Walkinshaw, with his daughter, left his\nprotection for that of a convent. This lady, in some letters, now\nunluckily lost, endeavored to persuade her family that she was married\nto the prince. A later myth averred that her daughter (the Duchess of\nAlbany) had been secretly married, and a General Stuart, claiming, on\nthis evidence, to be a legitimate descendant of the prince, died about\n1852. As Charles, late in life, legitimatized his daughter by Clementina\nWalkinshaw (a thing needless had he been married to her mother), and\nmade affirmation that he never had any other child, all these legends\nare manifestly absurd. (The affirmation is among documents in possession\nof Lord Braye, and is published by the Historical MSS. Commission.)\n\nFrom this point there is little historical or personal interest in the\nlife of Charles. His father, James III., died in 1766, and was buried as\na king. Charles hurried from Bouillon to Rome; his brother, the\ncardinal, tried to secure his recognition by the Papal Court, but the\nPope dared not, and no other government chose to defy the English\nMinistry. Charles's life was spent, now in seclusion, now in society; he\nstill was fond of shooting, of music, and the drama; he still retained\nhis grace of demeanor when he happened to be sober. Late in 1771 he went\nin disguise to Paris, where he accepted a pension from France, and a\nbeautiful bride, Louise, Princess of Stolberg, descended from the Earl\nof Ailesbury into whose arms Charles II. fell under the stroke of his\nfatal illness. The ill-matched pair were married on Good Friday, April\n17, 1772. At first Charles behaved with more sobriety and good humor\nthan usual. A child of the marriage was expected, at least by the Scotch\nJacobites, in 1773. There is a legend that a child was actually born,\nwas intrusted to Captain John Carter Allen, was brought up by him as his\nown, and this infant, grown to manhood, became the father of two\ngentlemen calling themselves John Sobieski Stolberg Stuart and Charles\nEdward Stuart, Counts of Albany. They lived till late in the present\ncentury, were picturesque figures in society, and writers of some spirit\nand vigor. For long they were much cherished by some noble Highland\nfamilies. Charles, the younger, has left descendants. It is needless to\ndiscuss here the authenticity of these claims.\n\nCharles's relations with his wife were on the pattern of his relations\nwith his mistress. He was jealous, and brutal beyond description; she\nwas courted by Alfieri, the poet, and, after fleeing from her husband to\na convent, she united her fortunes with Alfieri's. On his death she\nchose a young French painter, Fabre, as his successor, and to him she\nleft her rich collection of relics, spoils of the poet and the king. A\nbeautiful, witty, and engaging woman, she was long a centre of society\nin Italy. She died in 1824. In 1784 Charles sent for his daughter by\nMiss Walkinshaw. Both had long been maintained by the cardinal. He made\nher Duchess of Albany, medals were designed, if never struck,\nrepresenting her as _spes ultima et exigua_, \"the last frail hope,\" of\nthe Stuarts. For the last time, in conversation with a Mr. Greathead,\nthe old spirit blazed out. His face brightened, he began the tale of his\ncampaign, but, when attempting to narrate the butcheries of Cumberland,\nthe cruel executions in London, he fell on the floor in convulsions. He\nused to solace himself by playing on the pipes, and at the sound of the\nmartial music which he had heard on three stricken fields, he was able\nto live in the past. On January 31, 1788, the anniversary of the death\nof Charles I., Charles Edward passed away from earth. His daughter did\nnot long survive him; she was killed by a fall from her horse. Henry now\ntook the title of Henry IX. \"by grace of God, not by the will of men.\"\nHe died in 1806; the French had stripped him of all his property, even\nthe famous Sobieski rubies were gone, and he was in receipt of a pension\nfrom the English Government. In 1819 George IV. erected a monument by\nCanova, in St Peters at Rome, to \"James III., son of James II., King of\nGreat Britain, to Charles Edward, and Henry, his sons, the last of the\nRoyal Stuart line. Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord.\" Sir Walter\nScott visited this alone of Roman sights, in 1832, just before he came\nhome to die.\n\nHad Charles fallen at Culloden, history could find no blot on his name,\nno stain on the white rose. Surviving, as he did, a broken-hearted\nexile, with no home, no chance of a career, \"eating his own heart,\nshunning the paths of men,\" as Homer says of Bellerophon, he fell a\nvictim to the habit which has ever the same wretched results, which\nturns a hero to a coward, a gentleman to a brute. Yet, in his one year\nof brilliance, he won immortal love. Scott had seen strong men, the\nprince's ancient comrades, weep at the mention of his name. No man, in\nany age, ever inspired such a large, such a gallant, such a tender and\nmelancholy body of song. Even now as one hears the notes of\n\n  \"Will ye no come back again,\n   Better lo'ed ye canna be,\"\n\nsung by the lads of a Scotch village, one feels that Charles Stuart did\nnot wholly fail; the song outlives the dynasty, and relics of Prince\nCharlie are fondly cherished, while no man cares a halfpenny for his\nHanoverian rivals.\n\nThe best life of Prince Charles is that by Mr. Ewald (London, 1875). Mr.\nEwald alone has used the State Papers at the Record Office. Lord\nStanhope's and Mr. Chambers's \"Histories of the Forty-five\" are also\nexcellent; as are \"Jacobite Memoirs,\" selected from Bishop Forbes's MS.\n\"Lyon in Mourning.\" These works, with the contemporary tracts, and some\nMSS., with Lord Stanhope's \"Decline of the Last Stuarts,\" and the Stuart\nPapers at Windsor, as given in Browne's \"History of the Highland Clans,\"\nhave been consulted in compiling this study of Prince Charles.\n\n[Signature: Andrew Lang.]\n\n\n\n\nCAPTAIN JAMES COOK[14]\n\n         [Footnote 14: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess.]\n\nBy OLIVER OPTIC\n\n(1728-1779)\n\n[Illustration: Captain James Cook.]\n\n\nAs an example of the self-made man without fortune or the prestige of a\ndistinguished family to assist him, perhaps there is none better and\nmore instructive than the career of Captain Cook, the great English\nnavigator and discoverer. At his birth, in 1728, his father was a\nfarm-laborer, and his mother belonged to the same grade of society. They\nlived in the north of England, and were people of excellent character.\nOn account of his honesty, industry, and skill in farming, his father\nwas promoted to the place of head servant on a farm some distance from\nwhere he had been working; but it does not appear that he ever made any\nfurther advancement. James learned to read and write, and was instructed\nin some of the simpler rules of arithmetic, which was the extent of his\nschool learning, a very slender outfit for one of the distinction to\nwhich he attained in a lifetime of fifty years.\n\nAt the age of thirteen James was bound as an apprentice to a dry-goods\ndealer in a small way in a considerable fishing town. The business did\nnot suit the youth at all, for he had before cherished the idea of going\nto sea, and his surroundings in a seaport doubtless increased his\nyearnings in that direction. A disagreement between the apprentice and\nhis employer enabled him to procure his discharge, and he engaged his\nservices to the Messrs. Walker, a couple of Quakers, who owned two\nvessels employed in the coal trade. He passed the greater portion of his\nterm, and a considerable period after its expiration, as a common sailor\non board of the ship Free Love, where he obtained a thorough knowledge\nof seamanship. From this humble sphere he was promoted to be mate of one\nof the Walker ships. His life in this capacity was uneventful, though he\nwas all the time learning navigation and storing his mind with the\ninformation which was to enable him to distinguish himself in later\nyears.\n\nIn 1755, when Cook was twenty-seven years old, war broke out between\nEngland and France, and there was a great demand for seamen for the navy\nof England. At that time the system of impressment was in vogue, and\nwhen Britain wanted sailors she took them, wherever and whenever she\ncould find them. Press-gangs were sent out, under one or more officers,\nby ships of war in port needing more men. They visited the\ndrinking-places and taverns of the town and captured all the seamen\nthey could find, usually more or less intoxicated, and compelled them to\ngo on board of the man-of-war. They were forced to do duty. Sometimes\nthe unlucky tars were taken from the vessels to which they belonged,\nwhether in port or at sea. This impressment was not always confined to\nBritish seamen, and this system was one of the causes which led to the\nwar of 1812 between England and the United States. Though the law\nsanctioning this abuse was never repealed, press-gangs became obsolete\nhalf a century ago.\n\nCook's ship was in the Thames at this time, and he was liable to\nimpressment, for mates were not exempt, though captains were. Like all\nBritish seamen, he had a dread of being forced into the naval service,\noftener because they were forced than for any other reason. He concealed\nhimself, and used all the precautions he could to avoid such a calamity,\nas he then regarded it. But he faithfully reconsidered the subject, and\nconcluded to enter the navy by voluntary enlistment, thus escaping\nimpressment, which would be an outrage upon his manhood. He began his\nservice on board the Eagle, a sixty-gun ship, which was soon after\ncommanded by Captain Palliser. Cook was not only an able and skilful\nseaman, but he diligently and faithfully performed every duty, so that\nhe soon attracted the attention of his officers.\n\nHis friends at home had endeavored to do something for him, and his\ncommander received a letter from a member of Parliament commending the\nseaman to his favor. The captain acknowledged the merit of Cook in his\nreply, but stated that he had been in the navy for so brief a period\nthat he could not be made a commissioned officer, but in due time, if he\nproved worthy, a master's warrant might be obtained for him. Four years\nafter he entered the service a strong interest secured this promotion\nfor him. In this capacity he was assigned to the frigate Mercury, which\nwas ordered to North America, where she became one of the fleet that\noperated in connection with the army of General Wolfe in the siege of\nQuebec.\n\nThe navigation of this portion of the St. Lawrence River was difficult\nand dangerous then to the English; they were comparative strangers\nthere, and the French had removed the channel buoys. It was necessary to\nmake a survey, and Captain Palliser recommended Master Cook for the\nservice. The locality was exposed to the enemy, and for several nights\nhe conducted the work till he had about completed it, when his\noperations were discovered by the French. A force of Indians was sent to\ncapture the surveyor, and they surrounded him in the darkness in their\ncanoes, and Cook made his escape only by leaping ashore, to which his\nbarge had been directed, near the English hospital, while the Indians\nwere boarding the boat over the stern. But he had performed the duty\nintrusted to him, and from his measurements constructed a perfect chart\nof the channel.\n\nHe was a very skilful draughtsman, though he had educated himself in the\nart, as well as an expert surveyor, and he was employed by the admiral\nin making surveys of other portions of the river. His charts of the\nlocality were published, with soundings and sailing directions; and they\nwere so correct that no others were needed for at least a hundred\nyears. He piloted the boats of the squadron in the attack upon\nMontmorency, and superintended the landing of the troops for the assault\non the Plains of Abraham, where both Wolfe and Montcalm were mortally\nwounded.\n\nFor four years Cook had been an acting master, but in 1759 he was fully\nconfirmed in his rank and appointed to the flag-ship of Lord Colvill,\npassing the following winter at Halifax. This was a season of leisure\nfrom active professional occupation, and the master employed it in\nstudying geometry, astronomy, and mathematics generally, fitting himself\nfor the highest positions in the navy. For the next ten years he was\nlargely engaged in surveying in Newfoundland, and was present at its\ncapture from the French. Returning to England he was married, but was\nsoon sent back to the field of his recent labors, as marine surveyor of\nthe coasts, by the influence of his constant friend, now Sir Hugh\nPalliser. He was busily employed in this capacity, rendering valuable\nservice to his country, and especially to the king's ministers in\narranging the terms of peace with France. During his absence he observed\nan eclipse of the sun, which was so well done that his results were\npublished in the \"Philosophical Transactions,\" adding greatly to his\nreputation as an astronomer.\n\nAt this period the spirit of discovery was reanimated in England, and an\nexpedition was fitted out, at the instance of the Royal Society,\nprimarily to observe a transit of Venus across the disk of the sun,\nwhich could only be done in some parts of the Pacific Ocean. Sir Hugh\nPalliser was again his friend, and Cook, raised to the rank of\nlieutenant, was appointed to the command. He selected a ship of three\nhundred and seventy tons, called the Endeavor, for the purpose, and\naccompanied by several eminent scientists, he sailed in 1778. In\naddition to its astronomical task, the expedition was to make\ndiscoveries and explorations in the Pacific.\n\nIt would be impossible to follow Lieutenant Cook in the details of his\nthree notable voyages of discovery in anything less than a volume, so\nfull are they of interesting incidents. He proceeded first to Madeira,\nand then across the Atlantic to Rio Janeiro, where he made a\nconsiderable stay to obtain supplies, and improve the condition of his\ncrew. Passing through the Strait of Le Maire, he went around Cape Horn,\nand in April of 1769 the Endeavor arrived at Otaheite, now called\nTahiti, in the Society Islands, where the transit was to be observed.\nThe observations required a considerable stay in Matavia Bay, and as\nsoon as he had made his preparations on shore for the work, the\ncommander established regulations for intercourse between his people and\nthe natives who crowded in multitudes around their strange visitors.\n\nNo man in his day and generation ever had more extensive dealings with\nthe uncivilized tribes of the earth than Captain Cook, and none ever\ntreated them with more enlightened humanity, or with more even-handed\njustice. His treatment of the aborigines of the vast number of islands\nand other regions he visited, is in remarkable contrast with that of the\nearly explorers of the Western Continent. By the latter the natives were\nremorselessly slain, enslaved, and even tortured. They were regarded as\npagans, with no natural rights, whose territories, families, and persons\nwere the legitimate spoils of the conquerors. On the contrary, Cook,\nwith the means in his possession to overawe, subdue, and subjugate them,\nalways extended to them the utmost consideration in his power. He could\nbe severe when necessity required, but his forbearance was almost\nunlimited.\n\nThe first of a series of rules he established and enforced was: \"To\nendeavor, by every fair means, to cultivate a friendship with the\nnatives, and to treat them with all imaginable humanity.\" He was largely\ndependent upon the resources of the islands he visited for the\nsustenance of his people; but nothing, except in dire necessity, was\never taken from the natives by force. Persons were appointed to trade\nwith them, and no others were allowed to barter or exchange goods with\nthem, and a proper equivalent was always to be given. His own men were\nput under the strictest discipline in order to control their relations\nwith the natives who constantly surrounded them. Generally the most\nfriendly spirit prevailed on both sides. The inhabitants of all the\nislands seemed to have a natural inclination to steal, and most of the\ntrouble with them grew out of this tendency. Cook judiciously repressed\ntheft from the beginning, and almost invariably compelled the\nrestoration of the property.\n\nOn the other hand, his own men were sometimes tempted to desert; but he\nhunted them down, secured one or more chiefs as hostages, or by some\ncommon-sense method recovered the absentees. At some of the islands Cook\nwas extremely popular with the inhabitants, and was regarded as a\nsuperior being, even a demigod, in many of them. When he was compelled\nto resort to extreme severity, he did not begin with cannon, loaded with\ngrape, but trusted first to the loud report, terrific to the savages,\nfired over their heads, or had the muskets loaded with small shot which\nwould hurt, but did not kill. No slaughter that could possibly be\navoided was permitted. If he erred at all it was on the side of\nhumanity, and if he had been less forbearing he might have added more\nyears to his length of days.\n\nThe astronomical work at Otaheite was successfully accomplished, and in\nJuly Captain Cook departed, taking with him Tupia, a native of some\ndistinction, who proved to be valuable to him as an interpreter, and for\nhis general knowledge. During this voyage he visited many of the islands\nof the Pacific, including New Zealand, where he encountered no little\nhostility, so that it was often difficult and sometimes impossible to\nestablish friendly relations with the natives. But he obtained what he\nneeded, and proceeded on his voyage. He gave names to islands, bays,\nstraits, and harbors, some of which seem strange at the present day, but\nmost of them were suggested by the circumstances of the visit. Of many\nof the islands he took possession in the name of his sovereign, leaving\nmemorials of his landing.\n\nSailing to the westward, he examined the east coast of New Holland, as\nit was then called, Australia, at the present time, charted the coast,\nas he had done throughout the voyage, and took possession of the country\nin the name of England. The existence of a Southern Continent had long\nbeen a mooted question, and in this and subsequent voyages Captain Cook\nsearched unsuccessfully for it. He passed through Torres Strait, and\nthus proved that New Guinea was not a part of Australia, as some\nclaimed. Continuing his voyage, he went around the Cape of Good Hope,\nand reached England in the middle of 1771. The results of his cruise of\nnearly four years were exceedingly important to his country. His\nreputation was largely increased, and he was promoted to the rank of\ncommander in the navy.\n\nSo well approved was the conduct of Captain Cook on his first voyage\naround the world, that he was appointed to the command of another\nsimilar expedition, consisting of two ships, the Resolution and the\nAdventure, and after about a year on shore, he sailed again in 1772. He\nwent around the Cape of Good Hope, and cruised in the Southern Pacific,\ndiscovering and taking possession of New Caledonia, visiting islands\nwhere he had landed before, and exploring and charting the New Hebrides.\nHis instructions particularly required him to circumnavigate the earth\nin the highest practicable southern latitude in search of the unknown\ncontinent still supposed to be there. He used the southern summer for\nthis purpose; but he found no land he was willing to call a continent.\nThough large bodies of land have since been discovered in that region,\nthe question is still an open one.\n\nAdapting his operations to the varying climate of the north and the\nsouth, Captain Cook continued his explorations, encountering many\nhardships and perils in unknown seas, from hostile savages, and in the\nicy realms of the extreme south.\n\nHe returned to England in 1775 after an absence of three years. The\ncommander had always taken excellent care of the health of his men, for\nin voyages of the description he had undertaken the mortality was always\nconsiderable, and sometimes terrible. One of the most noticeable\nfeatures of his second expedition was that it returned with a record of\nonly one death in both ships; and the details of the means he used to\nsecure a good sanitary condition among his crews are very interesting.\n\nOn his return Cook was immediately raised to the rank of post-captain,\nand was also appointed a captain in Greenwich Hospital, which secured to\nhim an honorable retirement, and reward for his important labors. He was\nelected a member of the Royal Society, which also bestowed upon him a\ngold medal in recognition of his contributions to the science of the\nperiod. The passage from the Atlantic to the Pacific by the north coast\nof America was exciting a great deal of attention at this time, and\nCaptain Cook was sent upon an expedition to continue his explorations in\nthe Pacific, and then to investigate the mystery of a northwest passage.\nHe sailed in the Resolution in 1776, and was followed by Captain Clerke\nin the Discovery. He proceeded, after his arrival at the Cape of Good\nHope, to Tasmania, visited New Zealand again, and passed the following\nyear in explorations in the Pacific.\n\n[Illustration: Death of Captain Cook.]\n\nIn the first month of 1778 he discovered the Sandwich Islands, to which\nhe gave this name in honor of his patron, the Earl of Sandwich, then\nthe first Lord of the Admiralty. Obtaining the supplies he needed, the\ncommander proceeded to explore the northwest coast of America, which he\nfollowed inside of Behring Strait, till the ice and cold compelled him\nto seek a more southern latitude, which he found in the genial airs of\nthe Sandwich Islands.\n\nDuring his former visit he had found the natives to be friendly and\ngenerally well disposed, though more addicted to thieving than the\npeople of any other islands the explorer had visited. For some\nunexplained reason they were in a different frame of mind on his second\nvisit. A boat belonging to the expedition had been stolen by the\nsavages, and Captain Cook proceeded, in his usual vigorous manner, to\nrecover it. He sent a boat on shore for this purpose, and then landed\nhimself with another party, intending to capture a certain chief, to be\nexchanged for the boat. An immense crowd gathered around him, and were\nhypocritically friendly at first; but it was soon observed that they\nwere arming themselves. The commander asked Kariopoo, the chief he had\nselected, to go with him, and he made no objection. The captain had\nordered the marines to be drawn up on the shore, and leading his\nprisoner by the hand he approached the boat, the natives opening a\npassage for him.\n\nThe chief's family and friends interposed to save him, declaring that he\nwould be killed if he went on board of the ship. The captain\nexpostulated with them and the tumult increased. The lieutenant of\nmarines wanted to fire, but Cook refused the pet mission. The tumult\nsoon became a battle, and then he ordered his men to fire. As he was\ntrying to save his party he was struck with a club, which partially\nstunned him, and then he was stabbed in the back of the neck by an iron\ndagger. He fell into shallow water, and the savages threw themselves\nupon him. A struggle ensued, and he was hauled on the beach by his foes,\nwhere they stabbed him in turn in their barbarous rage. His body lay on\nthe beach, and it might have been recovered, but it was not. Only a\nportion of his remains were obtained, and they were buried at sea.\n\nThus perished Captain James Cook, and all England mourned him.\n\n[Signature: William S. Adams.]\n\n\n\n\nJOHN HOWARD[15]\n\n         [Footnote 15: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess.]\n\nBy HARRIET G. WALKER\n\n(1726-1790)\n\n[Illustration: John Howard.]\n\n\nJohn Howard was born in Hackney, Middlesex County, England, September 2,\n1726. The only existing record of this fact is the inscription upon his\nmonument in St. Paul's Cathedral, London. His parentage came through a\nsomewhat obscure family, his father being sometimes mentioned as an\nupholsterer and sometimes as a merchant of moderate means. Of his mother\nwe know only her name--Chomley--and that she died when her second child,\nand only son, was an infant. The father was a strict, sturdy, honest,\nsevere Puritan, the marks of whose character ever remained on the\ncharacter of the son.\n\nThe motherless boy seems to have passed unnoticed through the weary days\nof a sickly childhood, and the usual martyrdom of the \"dullest boy in\nthe school,\" under first one tutor and then another, to his sixteenth\nyear, when he left school and books, as he afterward testifies, \"not\nthoroughly knowing any one thing.\" How much does any boy or girl\nthoroughly know of any one thing at sixteen? Surely not enough to\nwarrant his removal from school.\n\nBut not so reasoned the father of John Howard, for we find him at this\nage apprenticing his only son to Alderman Newham, a wholesale grocer on\nWatling Street, London.\n\nThat this was not a change made from pecuniary necessity is evidenced by\nthe liberal provision made for the boy. We are told that his father paid\nL700 for his fee of apprenticeship, and provided him a separate suite of\napartments, a servant, and a pair of saddle-horses! The inference is\nthat young John's progress in school was not such as to warrant his\ncontinuance at his books.\n\nHis letters and manuscripts still in existence reveal a lamentable\ndeficiency in orthography and the handling of the king's English.\n\nSome of Howard's biographers attempt to attribute his methodical\nbusinesslike habits in later life to the experience gained while in the\nservice of this wholesale grocer. But when we consider that his stay was\nfar less than one year, we may fairly be allowed to conclude that more\nwas due to an inherited temperament for slow methodical action.\n\nBefore reaching his seventeenth year, the death of his father released\nhim from the grocery business, for which he had evidently no affection,\nand left him in possession of L7,000 in ready cash, beside land, plate,\nhouse, etc.\n\nThis fortune was left under the management of guardians, it being his\nfather's wish that he should not control it until his twenty-fourth\nyear. But his course of life goes to show that he had wonderfully easy\ntrustees, as he immediately bought himself off the grocery business, and\nmade a long tour of the Continent for the benefit of his health.\nReturning to England, he dropped into the little village of Stoke\nNewington, a mere hamlet, where he had some possessions.\n\nThat a young man of wealth and free from all ties of family or business,\nshould have voluntarily chosen such a home, and been contented to remain\nthere, in a state of idle inactivity, for the space of seven or eight\nyears, can be accounted for only by remembering his feeble health.\n\nWhen twenty-five, his health entirely failed, and he was prostrated by a\nsevere fit of illness, through which he was nursed by his landlady, Mrs.\nLoidore. Upon his recovery he made her his wife, in testimony of his\ngratitude, though history records that she had neither beauty, money,\nnor health, having been an invalid for twenty-two years, and was\ntwenty-seven years his senior.\n\nTwo or three years after this seemingly ill-suited marriage, which,\nstrange to say, seems to have been a not unhappy one, Mrs. Howard died.\nImmediately Mr. Howard, then twenty-eight or nine years of age, again\nleft England for a second extended tour. This being the year of the\ngreat earthquake of Lisbon, he naturally turned his steps thitherward.\n\nSetting sail from England for Spain, he was captured on the high seas by\na French privateer, and for two months suffered the hardships and\nindignities of prison life in those times. Upon his release he used all\nhis influence to secure the exchange of the remainder of his vessel's\ncompany, and was successful. This prison experience he never forgot.\n\nThree years later (1758) he married Henrietta Leeds, a lady of fine\ncharacter, and one to whom he was sincerely attached. Indeed, so fearful\nwas he that their married life might not be entirely without jars, that\nhe made a bargain with her, in advance of their marriage, that on all\ndisputed points the adjustment should be according to his judgment. One\nis at a loss which member of a couple the most to admire, the man who\ncould make such a proposition, or the woman who would bind herself with\nsuch bonds! But, like his first marriage, his strange contract with his\nsecond wife seems to have led only to happy results.\n\nThey settled in Cardington, upon the Howard estate, and for the next\nseven years led the uneventful life of landed gentry of the times. The\nhusband and wife were united in their efforts to improve the morals and\ngeneral condition of their tenantry. Rightly believing that the\nbeginning of all reform was to improve the physical condition, Howard\nspared no expense in rearing new cottages upon new and improved plans,\nheld his tenants removable at will, and through their improved\nconditions ruled over them with an almost despotic sway, tempered and\nmade bearable in that all his restrictions and requirements were on the\nline of their temporal and spiritual advancement.\n\nHow strange is the making of history! Had the gentle, loving,\nwell-governed, dependent Mrs. Howard lived on, this would no doubt have\nbeen the continuation, the aim, and the end of John Howard's life--to\nconstantly advance and improve the interests and condition of his\ntenantry, and to wisely govern and administer his estate. But it was not\nso to be. The happy home must be broken up, and the man whom God needed\nmust, through the sting of his own sorrow, be sent out again upon his\nwanderings to do the work reserved for him in the broad field not of his\nown choosing. The birth of the only child, a son, preceded the death of\nits mother by but a few days, and Howard was again alone. To the end of\nhis life he remained a sincere and constant mourner for the wife to whom\nhe owed the happiest, if not the most useful, seven years of his life.\nIt is said by some of his biographers that he always kept the\nanniversary of her death as a solemn day of fasting and prayer.\n\nCome we now to the point in his career where, all unknown to himself,\nHoward took up the work which was to startle the whole civilized world,\nand place his name in the roll of those whose memories die not.\n\nBut first let us remember the son whose life began where his mother's\nended, and ended where it was well his mother had not lived to see it.\n\nIt would seem that the loss of his beloved wife and the sad recollection\nof his own motherless unloved boyhood, would have made of John Howard a\ntender and pitiful, as well as devoted father. Such was not the case, if\nwe may judge from the vehemence with which some of his biographers deny\nthe charges of undue severity to the infant, and forgetfulness and\nneglect of the growing-up boy, and the silence of others on the same\nsubject.\n\nThe real truth probably was, so far as we can judge, that the man had\nnothing in his stiff nature and puritanical education, certainly nothing\nin his own early life, to make him respond to the uninteresting\nhelplessness of infancy.\n\nSo we find him doing his duty by the crying infant of a few months, in a\nmanner which would be amusing if it were not pathetic. He takes him from\nthe nurse, lays him across his knees, and sits unmoved and unmovable\nuntil the tempest exhausts itself, and the child is silent from\nexhaustion, when he hands him solemnly back to the nurse, and feels\nthat, by so much at least, has he cast out of the young child the spice\nof Old Adam, which is the birthright of us all! A few such experiences,\nwe are told, and the child would at once cease its struggles and be\nsilent. One would surely think it would!\n\nBut the silent, lonely man, bereft of the loving companionship of the\ngentle wife, who would so differently have soothed and silenced the\ncrying infant, could not long bear the solitude of his broken home, and\nso began the years of wanderings, which lasted as long as his life, and\nthrough which he seems so largely to have lost sight of his young son at\nhis most impressionable age, save to provide for his material wants,\nand to some extent, also, his education. When with him in later years he\nappears to have enjoyed his society, or at least the evidences which he\ngave of implicit, unreasoning obedience, illustrated by his remark, \"I\nbelieve if I told the boy to put his hand in the fire he would obey me.\"\n\nAt four the boy was put into a boarding-school, and the home was broken\nup. The later glimpses which we get of his career are vague,\nunsatisfactory, or decidedly bad, until the end came, and \"Jack\" was\nincarcerated in a mad-house when but twenty-two, where his unfortunate\nlife went out after twelve years' confinement in a darkness that\ndarkened also the last years of his good, if injudicious, father, with a\nsorrow beside which all common bereavements should seem like blessings.\n\nIn 1769, then, we see the Cardington home broken up, the boy placed in a\nboarding-school, and John Howard setting forth upon what to him was but\nan aimless journey, in search of consolation, amid new scenes, for the\nshattered fortunes of his home. He travelled over large portions of\nItaly, and returned again to England, where in 1773 he was elected High\nSheriff of Bedford. No sooner had he entered upon the duties of his\noffice, than he was struck with the gross injustice of the practices,\nespecially as affecting those prisoners held for debt. Many heads of\nfamilies were held for months and years, not for the original debt for\nwhich they were incarcerated, which in many cases had been forgiven or\npaid, but for an accumulation of fees due to jailer and divers other\nofficers of the prison, who drew their salaries from this source. Much\nastounded by such a state of things in a Christian land, but supposing\nit to be a peculiarity of his own county, he made a journey into some of\nthe surrounding districts, to learn from them, if possible, some better\nmethod. It but augmented his indignation and distress to find their\ncondition and methods worse even than at home, since in some he actually\nfound the fees wrung from these unhappy prisoners to amount to so much\nthat the office of jailer was sold to the highest bidder, the sum paid\nfor the position often amounting to as much as L40 per annum.\n\nOn this tour Howard, now thoroughly awake on the subject, could not but\nobserve the miseries of the prisoners from other sources, besides\nextortions. This might have been borne, but for the terrible crowding of\nherds of men and women, without regard to age, sex, character, or crime,\ninto foul underground dungeons, damp, dark, unventilated, often\nunwarmed, with insufficient and unfit food and clothing, without beds,\nand many in chains. Such were the sights which met his gaze at every\nturn, and moved his soul with shame for his country, and a slow but\ndeadly anger that, once kindled, died only with his life. Thoroughly and\nsystematically he continued his investigation of the jails and prisons\nof England, until he had been over them all, which consumed nearly a\nyear's time (travel was a different matter a hundred years ago, from\nnow), and then made his report public, for which labor he was called\nbefore the bar of the House of Commons and received the thanks of that\naugust body.\n\nMore satisfactory still, he had the pleasure of seeing two bills passed,\none making the office of jailer a salaried position, thereby abolishing\nthe whole iniquitous system of special fees from prisoners, the other\nhaving reference to improvements in ventilation and other sanitary\nmatters.\n\nThe text of these bills he had printed in large bold type at his own\nexpense, and sent them to every jail and prison in England. A few months\nlater, being desirous of seeing whether or not the requirements of the\nnew laws were being put into execution, he made personal inspection,\nriding by chaise or on horseback from city to city and from town to\ntown.\n\nToward the last of this year, 1774, Howard made his first and last\nventure into the arena of political life. Being a man of strong, stern\npolitical convictions, and feeling it his duty to stand by his\nprinciples, he listened to the advice of friends, and made a stand for\nthe House of Commons. Fortunately for the world he was defeated by _four\nvotes_.\n\nOn such small hinges swing the doors of life. Had he been elected he\nwould doubtless have sunk out of sight and been forgotten, and his great\nwork would have been given to some other agent.\n\nThough greatly disappointed at his failure, Howard's mind at once\nreturned to the question of prison reform, and his next journey led him\nover Ireland and Scotland. The former he found worse and the latter\nbetter than England.\n\nBeing desirous of publishing a book upon his investigations and their\nresults, he at the close of this year left England to examine the\nprisons of France, Flanders, and Holland. It surprises us much to learn\nthat he found the prisons of Holland almost models, while France is\ndeclared far in advance of England, although these were the days of the\nBastille! He also journeyed into Switzerland and again made a survey of\nthe jails of England and Wales. Feeling at last that he had sufficient\nmaterial he returned to England and began upon his book. For eight\nmonths he labored incessantly upon this work, correcting proofs,\ncollating and arranging statistics, etc., although for the literary part\nhe was obliged to call in the assistance of some of his learned friends,\nwho, better than he understood the use of the king's English.\n\nThis book made a most profound sensation throughout the civilized world.\nThat it might reach a more extended circulation, it was sold at less\nthan the cost of production, and large numbers were given away among the\nofficials. All this expense was borne by Howard out of his own private\npurse, as were at all times his immense and constant outlay in travel.\nNot only his whole private income, but the fortune of L15,000 received\nfrom his only sister at her death, was expended in the same manner.\n\nSubsequently Howard published a second volume, in 1780, as an appendix\nto the first, and in 1784 a third and last, which was a compilation of\nthe first two, with much added material acquired during his continuous\ntravels over every part of Europe.\n\n[Illustration: Howard relieving a Prisoner.]\n\nDuring the earlier and idler parts of his life, Howard had been pleased\nto dabble somewhat in medicine, after the manner of the gentlemen of his\ntime. This stood him in good part upon his travels, and made him\nfamiliar with the various forms of disease that especially afflicted\nprisons and the people at large. For jail fever and typhus he rightly\njudged that the sanitary and food conditions were sufficient cause and\nattacked them from this basis. But having in a measure finished his jail\nand prison work, to his mind, he became possessed with the idea that he\nmight search out and find a remedy for the dreadful _plague_ that was\nfilling all Europe with dismay. The methodical habit of the man's mind\nis evidenced by noting that he followed exactly the same method in this\nas in his former undertaking, namely, personal investigation and\nexperience. He left home in July, 1789, and it is surprising that for\nsix months he literally lived in the poisonous atmosphere of the\npest-houses, pest-ships, and lazarettos of Europe, and escaped\ncontagion. In January, 1790, however, in a little Russian village near\nthe Crimea, he was called upon to prescribe for a young lady, ill with\nsome low malignant fever, from which visit he contracted the same\ndisease. Being then sixty-four years of age, naturally frail, worn down\nby sixteen years of hard, exhaustive toil, depleted by a diet that found\nno place for meats or stimulants, he had nothing upon which to rally,\nand rapidly sank into the long slumber which at last gave him what he\nhad so many years denied himself--_rest_.\n\nHis remains were buried there in Russia in the village of Dophinovka.\nAfter his death a monument was erected to his memory, being the first\nplaced in St. Paul's Cathedral, London. This was appropriately inscribed\nto his memory, although it was his latest expressed wish that he should\nbe left to sleep in an unmarked, unknown grave.\n\nA just estimate of the character of John Howard can only be arrived at\nby a careful consideration of the times in which he lived and the\npeculiar circumstances of his life. The natural inherited sternness of\nhis character never felt the modifying influences of a mother's love or\nthe companionship of brothers or sisters. His ill health added to his\nrestless desire for travel and change, but unfitted him for close or\ncontinued application to any special line of thought or interest, while\nhis early independence in the management of his fortune placed in his\nway strong temptations to extravagance and idleness.\n\nIt is therefore more than an ordinary indication of an inborn principle\nof humanity when we find him, upon his first settlement upon his\nfather's estates, devoting time, thought, and money to the amelioration\nof the condition of his neglected and suffering tenantry. Model\nlandlords were not in fashion in those times, and a man who so\nadministered his affairs must have done so in the face of much\ncriticism, ridicule, and contempt among his peers.\n\nBut none of these things seem to have moved him from the even tenor of\nhis way. Yet there was no sentimentalism in his dealings with his\ntenants, as we find him holding them to a strict accounting for the use\nmade of their improved conditions.\n\nSo of his prison work. It seemed to be all and altogether for the\nmasses, and not for individuals. No record is left of personal\nalmsgiving, save when resorted to as a ruse to obtain entrance to the\nFrench prisons. That his interest was not in individuals is further\nshown by the calm and deliberate manner in which he prosecuted his\ninvestigations, taking years for the accumulation of materials and\nmonths to their careful watching through the press. It was the principle\nof justice ingrained in the man's deepest nature that forced him to\n_know_ all that could be known or said upon both sides before speaking.\nIt was this thoroughness, this absolute fairness, that made of his work\nand of his inartistically constructed books the tremendous and lasting\nsuccess which they were.\n\nDeeply religious, he naturally reflected the spirit of the religious\nteachings of the times, which savored more of the terrors of the law\nthan of mercy and forgiveness to evil-doers; that found more worship in\ndenying self the indulgences of soft living than in the partaking of the\nharmless pleasures and sweets of life, giving a good God thanks for His\ngood gifts. Through all the life and writings of Howard one constantly\nhears the minor chord of infinite sadness wrought into his life by his\nmotherless infancy, his unloved boyhood, his years of invalidism, his\nceaseless mourning for his wife Henrietta, the bitterness of death in\nthe cup held to his lips by his unfortunate son, and over and above all,\nthe constant atmosphere of crime, cruelty, sin, and suffering in which\nhe spent the last sixteen years of his life. Life to him came to mean\nsin, suffering, and sorrow in the world about him, and for himself work,\nwork, incessant work, in the effort to do what one man could to lift or\nlighten the burden under which the whole earth groaned. Death came to\nhim where he would have most wished it might, and took him directly from\nlabor to reward. And throughout the coming ages the world will be the\nbetter because in the last half of the eighteenth century there lived,\nlabored, and died in the midst of his labors one _John Howard, the\nPhilanthropist_.\n\n[Signature: Harriet G. Walker.]\n\n\n\n\nETHAN ALLEN[16]\n\n         [Footnote 16: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess.]\n\nBy GERTRUDE VAN RENSSELAER WICKHAM\n\n(1738-1789)\n\n\nWas Ethan Allen a hero or a humbug? a patriot or a pretender? Ask\nVermont and she cries \"Nulli secundus!\" Ask New York and the reply is\n\"Ad referendum.\"\n\nThe differentiation antedates the American Revolution and the part Ethan\nAllen played in that historic drama. It is an inheritance of loving\nloyalty and gratitude that quivers in the answer of one State, the\ntraditional antagonisms of prejudice that speak in the other.\n\nBut for Ethan Allen, Vermont would have had no separate existence. But\nfor Ethan Allen, New York's northeastern boundary would have been the\nConnecticut River. Therefore, on one shore of Lake Champlain the\ndisputed shield is unalloyed gold, reflecting all that is strong and\nbrave, all that is courageous and magnanimous, all that is patriotic and\ngenerous, while from the other shore its appearance is as brass engraven\nby vanity and vulgarity, by self-sufficiency and infidelity.\n\n[Illustration: Ethan Allen.]\n\nControversy over property rights engenders such diversities of opinion,\nand when, as in this case, one side gains all and the other loses much,\nthe exultation of triumph or the bitterness of defeat will color the ink\nof all literature on the subject for a century to come.\n\nNot until after the year 1761 did the dense wilderness of either\nNorthern New York, or what was then considered Western New Hampshire,\nprove attractive to the Yankee or Dutch settler in search of a pioneer\nhome. The cruel conflicts that for over seventy years had made these\nborder lands the scene of bloody race enmities were ended by the\nconquest of Canada. These primeval forests, that had echoed only to the\ntread of skulking savages, or the revengeful tramp of opposing forces,\nbecame peaceful spots for the erection of hearth-stones around which\nwomen and children might gather in safety. Many of the Connecticut\nsoldiery who had taken active part in the late French and Indian wars,\nnow recalled the beautiful country through which they had marched to\nmeet or pursue the foe, the grandeur of its evergreen mountain peaks,\nthe limpid sheets of water nestling between, its sparkling fish-laden\nstreams, and the apparent fertility of its soil.\n\nThese recollections were stimulated by the conditions which confronted\nthem on their return to peaceful and agricultural pursuits. The\nsubdivision of farms among the many robust sons of the average New\nEngland household had reached its limit, and the young man who would\nfound a home and family of his own, thenceforth must seek for cheaper\nand broader acres than were to be found already under cultivation. New\nHampshire's liberal offer of grants in her western border upon easy\nterms, decided the future of many a New England lad, and for several\nyears the tide of emigration rolled steadily northward.\n\nFrom Burlington, on Lake Champlain, for one hundred miles south to\nBennington, the sound of the axe was heard by day and by night. The\nenthusiasms of a new country lent strength to the arm and courage to the\nheart. In every direction homes sprang up, surrounded by young orchards,\nand beyond and around these, cultivated fields.\n\nSuddenly the settlers were set to wondering and worrying at the sight of\nstrange surveyors taking new measurements through the farms wrenched\nfrom the wilds with so much of hard labor and wearisome toil. And then\nthe blow fell. New York was claiming all this tract of land as part of\nher province, and declaring New Hampshire grants to be null and void. A\nsecond payment for their farms was demanded, based upon their present\nvalue as improved property.\n\nIn some cases new owners put in an appearance and attempted to take\npossession, having purchased, in good faith, of land speculators in New\nYork City, to whom Governor Colden, of New York, had issued immense\ngrants covering a large part of the disputed territory. These\nspeculators were mostly lawyers, who were favorites or friends of the\ngovernor. Against these shrewd men of wealth and education, with their\npowerful backing, the puny defence of the original settlers seemed\nwellnigh hopeless. But it was to be a contest between might and right,\nand that invisible influence which seems ever to weaken the one and\nstrengthen the other was surely, though silently at work.\n\nUpon this scene of trouble and uncertainty appears Ethan Allen, a\nfarmer, born about thirty years before in Coventry, Conn., large of\nframe, of great personal strength, and with mental characteristics in\nharmony with his powerful physique: a tender-hearted giant whose\nstandard of honor and honesty soon measured the injustice of New York's\nposition in the land controversy, and at once sided with the besieged\nfarmers, with whom he had many generalities of sympathy.\n\nWith fiery energy of will and purpose, he immediately assumed the\nleadership of the defence, guiding its combined strength into the legal\nside of the question, thus meeting the power of alleged law with like\nweapons. Selecting the best legal talent of Connecticut as assistants,\nand armed with New Hampshire's charter and seal, he appeared in the\nAlbany courts to contest New York's claim that the Connecticut River was\nthe boundary between that province and New Hampshire.\n\nBut the trial was a farce, stripped of all dignity and justice by the\nfact that the judge upon the bench, the prosecuting attorneys, and other\nofficials were personally interested, each holding New York grants for\nmany thousand acres in the disputed territory. All evidence for the\ndefence, even the New Hampshire charter, was ruled out of court, and\nEthan Allen's peaceful efforts for defence were defeated.\n\nHe returned home, burning with indignation and resolving to protect his\nproperty and that of his neighbors, if need were, by the force of his\nown strong right arm. For six years, under his leadership, all attempts\nby New York settlers to take possession were frustrated by the alertness\nof the \"Green Mountain Boys,\" as the defence now termed themselves, who\ndrove them off quietly or with violence, according to the exigencies of\nthe occasion.\n\nAs a measure of punishment for these acts, Ethan Allen was outlawed by\nthe Governor of New York, and a price offered for his capture. Soon\nafter he rode alone into Albany one day, and alighting at a tavern in\nthe heart of the city, called for refreshment. His former visit had\nmarked his strong personality in the remembrance of many, and he was at\nonce recognized by prominent officials, who stared at him with\ncuriosity, but made no effort to arrest him. Returning their gaze, he\nlifted his glass to his lips, pledging in a loud, firm voice \"The Green\nMountain Boys,\" and then rode away unmolested.\n\nThis act was defined by his friends as the rashness of bravery; by his\nenemies as the madness of impudence.\n\nBut the cloud overhanging the shores of Lake Champlain was but a shadow\ncompared with the darkness of the storm brooding over the whole region\nsouth and east of it, and the battle of Lexington ended this local\nstrife.\n\nThenceforth, Ethan Allen was to bid defiance, not to a State, but to a\nnation. To him and his Green Mountain Boys came urgent appeals from\nleading patriots of the American Revolution for help and support in the\ncoming struggle, and the answer was more than kindly assent and promise:\nit was prompt and vigorous action--the first aggressive blow at the\npower of Great Britain, for the musket-shots that harassed the\nretreating red-coats from Concord were those of spirited defence rather\nthan of deliberate attack.\n\nAs the fortress of Ticonderoga had been the key of the position in the\nlate French and Indian wars, the gain or loss of which meant either\noverwhelming victory or disaster, so now it was deemed of equal\nimportance in the coming conflict, which inevitably would bring the\nBritish foe upon them from the North, along the same familiar war-path.\nThe capture of this fort was a serious undertaking, for it was well\ngarrisoned by a company of British soldiers, and thoroughly equipped for\nvigorous defense. Only the keenest strategy and the most complete\nsurprise would avail in the accomplishment of the task.\n\nBut the experience and ability of Ethan Allen--who had been unanimously\nchosen as leader--was adequate to the occasion, and his plans were made\nwith the greatest secrecy and skill. One of his men was detailed to gain\nadmission to the fort on some pretext, and then by skilfully acting the\npart of a greenhorn full of foolish questions, to learn many important\nfacts and necessary details. In addition, a lad was found thoroughly\nfamiliar with the interior of the garrison, who would serve as guide,\nand on the night of May 9, 1775, 270 American patriots appeared on the\nshore opposite Fort Ticonderoga, which was on the west or New York side\nof Lake Champlain.\n\nA day or two previous a small force of men had been despatched secretly\nto points above and below this spot in quest of boats, which failing\nthem, in this emergency only 83 of the 270 men could be accommodated in\nthe limited number at hand. Spring lingers long in this latitude, and\nthe night, clear and cold, was giving way to dawn when the brave leader\nand his little vanguard of heroes resolved to attack without further\nre-enforcement. According to military precedent, he first harangued his\nfollowers.\n\n\"Friends and fellow-soldiers, you have for a number of years been a\nscourge and a terror to arbitrary power. Your valor has been famed\nabroad and acknowledged, as appears by the advice and orders to me from\nthe General Assembly of Connecticut to surprise and take the garrison\nnow before us. I now propose to advance before you and in person conduct\nyou through the wicket gate; for we must this morning either quit our\npretensions to valor, or possess ourselves of this fortress in a few\nminutes. And inasmuch as it is a desperate attempt, which none but the\nbravest men dare undertake, I do not urge it on any contrary to his\nwill. You that will undertake voluntarily, poise your firelock!\"\n\nNeedless to state, the firelocks were all \"poised\"--whatever that may\nbe--and, led by Allen, a rush was made, the sentry overpowered, and\nsoon the gallant \"83\" were standing back to back on the parade-ground\nwithin the fort, their muskets levelled at the two barracks which,\nfilled with sleeping soldiers, faced each other.\n\nThe commandant was then aroused by loud rapping on his door and the\nvoice of Allen bidding him come out and surrender the fort. The\nastonished officer, half dressed, made his appearance, demanding by what\nauthority he was asked to do such a thing.\n\nA part of Ethan Allen's famous reply: \"In the name of Jehovah and the\nContinental Congress!\" was more prophetic than authentic, as the latter\nearthly tribunal at that time had no existence.\n\nThe hundred cannon and quantities of ammunition found in the fort were\nsent east, where they proved of great service in the siege of Boston.\n\nCrown Point, the garrison of St. Johns, many boats, vessels, and a\nBritish armed schooner soon after fell into the hands of the Green\nMountain Boys, thus giving them the full sweep of Lake Champlain, and\nholding in check any attempts at invasion from that direction.\n\nEthan Allen's military instincts and foresight transcended any\nexperience and all knowledge he possessed on the subject. He at once saw\nthe importance of pushing the advantage now gained, by an immediate\nadvance upon Canada before reinforcements could arrive to strengthen the\nstrongholds of Montreal and Quebec; a measure which, if adopted, would\nhave changed the whole history of the northern campaign that eventually\nproved so disastrous.\n\nWith the splendid magnanimity of a noble soul and the abnegation of a\ntrue patriot, he addressed the Continental Congress of New York on the\nsubject, first apologizing for his seeming neglect to consult with that\nbody before his attack on Ticonderoga, which was within its province,\nand explaining the necessity for secrecy, which prompted him. Note the\nspirit of prophecy breathed in the following words:\n\n\"I wish to God America would at this critical juncture exert herself\nagreeable to the indignity offered her by a tyrannical ministry. She\nmight rise on eagle's wings and mount up to glory, freedom, and immortal\nhonor if she did but know and exert her strength. Fame is now hovering\nover her head. A vast continent must now sink to slavery, poverty, and\nbondage, or rise to unconquerable freedom, immense wealth, inexpressible\nfelicity, and immortal fame.\"\n\nHe then offers the services of his own men for the purpose, and to raise\na regiment of rangers in Northern New York, a proposal which he trusts\nwill not be deemed impertinent.\n\n[Illustration: Ethan Allen at Ticonderoga.]\n\nBut for some unexplained reason no action was taken on his suggestions\nuntil months later, when the conditions had materially changed, making\nsuch a campaign exceedingly more difficult. Generals Schuyler and\nMontgomery were then in command, and to Ethan Allen was given a task\nrequiring shrewdness, tact, and great personal influence--to enlist the\nco-operation or the neutrality of the Canadians in the struggle between\nthe American colonists and the mother country. For weeks he travelled in\nCanada, \"preaching politics\" so successfully that he was able to\nreport a company of 300 Canadian recruits for the American service, and\nthat 2,000 more could be enlisted when needed.\n\nIn returning from this expedition he was persuaded by a brother officer\ninto a step that but for an accident would have been more brilliant than\nAllen's former exploit and added fresh laurels to his name as a military\nhero. It was no less than the surprise and capture of Fort Montreal,\nthen garrisoned by 500 men, 40 only of whom were regulars, the remainder\nvolunteers and Indians.\n\nIt seemed a feasible undertaking. The plan was similar to the seizure of\nTiconderoga--the quiet landing of boats under the walls of the fort\nbefore daybreak and the quick rush of attack. The forces were divided,\nAllen taking 110 men and landing below the city. The remainder and\nlarger portion were to cross the river above and then signal the others.\nColonel Allen promptly performed his part of the programme, but no\nsignal greeted his ears, and daylight found him in full view of the fort\nand unable to retreat. He and his men for two hours bravely resisted the\nenemy, who sallied out to attack them, but without avail, and they were\ntaken prisoners.\n\nThe story of Ethan Allen's long captivity, lasting two years and eight\nmonths, as told by himself, is one of the most interesting narratives\nconnected with the Revolutionary war. Loaded with chains, consigned to\nthe filthy hold of a vessel, with no seat nor bed save a seaman's chest,\nhalf starved, tortured by daily indignities, his high courage and brave\nspirit never faltered. Once, when insulted, he sprang at his\ntormentor--the captain of the ship--and with his shackled hands knocked\nhim down; and again he bit off the nail that fastened his handcuffs, and\nby these feats of strength and anger awed his guards into some show of\nrespect.\n\nThe method by which he saved himself from a felon's death in England was\nworthy the dignity of a veteran diplomat. A letter to the Continental\nCongress, which he knew would never reach its destination, but fall into\nthe hands of its bitterest enemy, Lord North, contained an account of\nhis ill treatment and possible fate, and closed with the request that if\nretaliation upon the Tory and other prisoners in its power should be\nfound necessary, it might be exercised not according to his own value or\nrank, but in proportion to the importance of the cause for which he\nsuffered.\n\nThe English ministry concluded evidently to treat him henceforth as a\nprisoner of war entitled to an honorable exchange, rather than a rebel\ndeserving an ignoble death, and he was returned to America, where he was\nconfined, with varieties of usage, in Halifax, and afterward in New\nYork.\n\nWhile in the latter place, and suffering from hunger and long ill\nhealth, he was approached by a British officer, authorized to offer him\nthe command of a royalist regiment, and the gift of thousands of acres\nof land at the close of the war, in any part of the American colonies he\nmight select, providing he would forsake the patriot cause and take oath\nof allegiance to the crown. Colonel Allen rejected this overture with\ngreat scorn, assuring the officer that he had as little land to promise\nhim as had the devil when making a similar one.\n\n\"Thereupon,\" said Allen, \"he closed the conversation and turned from me\nwith an air of dislike, saying I was a bigot.\"\n\nAn exchange of prisoners at length freed him from a situation so full of\npersonal hardship and mental anguish, and he hastened home to his\nfamily, from whom he so long and cruelly had been separated.\n\nHis only son had died in the meantime, and his wife and daughters, not\nexpecting his arrival, were not at Bennington in time to receive him.\nBut his neighbors and friends flocked in from miles around to give him\ngreeting, and although it was the Sabbath, a day strictly observed in\nthose parts, the enthusiasm of the joyful occasion could neither be\npostponed nor suppressed, and its expression found vent in the firing of\ncannon and happy huzzas.\n\nThe \"Hampshire Grants\" in his absence had become the full-fledged \"State\nof Vermont,\" knocking for admission at the doors of the Continental\nCongress.\n\nEthan Allen at once was appointed General of the Vermont State Militia,\nand although he did not again join the American army, his natural gifts\nof diplomacy were of inestimable service to the country, and the number\nof men he could summon at a moment's notice to his command, served to\nhold in check any attempted raids of the enemy through Canada. He lived\neight years after the declaration of peace, dying at the age of\nfifty-one, in Burlington, where he was engaged in farming.\n\nA little incident never before in print was recently related to the\nwriter of this sketch by a lady to whom it was told in childhood by an\nold man who, as a lad, lived on Ethan Allen's farm. It was in\nillustration of the simplicity of the celebrated hero's private life.\n\nThe farm hands all sat at the table with the family, much to the\namusement or astonishment of his frequent guests, who sometimes were\nwealthy and distinguished and quite unaccustomed to such practical\nexhibitions of democracy. One of these had the poor taste to expostulate\nwith the general, and remarked, \"I should think your men would prefer to\neat by themselves.\"\n\nGeneral Allen feigned to misunderstand the meaning of this, and after a\nmoment's reflection replied, \"Thank you very much for calling my\nattention to it. I see that what has been hearty enough for my family\nmay not have been for my hard-working help. I will take more notice\nhereafter to see that they are better served.\"\n\n\"It was little use,\" says my informant, \"to try to dictate to Ethan\nAllen.\"\n\n[Signature: Gertrude Van Rensselaer Wickham.]","title":"Great Men and Famous Women. Vol. 5: A series of pen and pencil sketches of the lives of more than 200 of the most prominent personages in History","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":109546}