[Transcriber's note: ^ is used to mark superscript. ]

[Illustration: Columbus before Isabella. ]

GREAT MEN AND FAMOUS WOMEN

_A Series of Pen and Pencil Sketches of_

THE LIVES OF MORE THAN 200 OF THE MOST PROMINENT PERSONAGES IN HISTORY

VOL. V. 

Copyright, 1894, BY SELMAR HESS

edited by Charles F. Horne

[Illustration: Publisher's arm. ]

New-York: Selmar Hess Publisher

Copyright, 1894, by SELMAR HESS. 

CONTENTS OF VOLUME V. 

 SUBJECT AUTHOR PAGE

 ÆNEAS, _Charlotte M. Yonge_, 12 ETHAN ALLEN, _Gertrude Van Rensselaer Wickham_, 200 KING ARTHUR, _Rev. S. Baring-Gould_, 36 THE CHEVALIER BAYARD, _Herbert Greenhough Smith_, 145 ST. BERNARD, _Henry G. Hewlett_, 60 ROBERT BRUCE, _Sir J. Bernard Burke, LL. D. _, 105 WILLIAM CAXTON, 129 THE CID, _Henry G. Hewlett_, 56 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS, _A. R. Spofford, LL. D. _, 131 CAPTAIN JAMES COOK, _Oliver Optic_, 188 ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI, _George Parsons Lathrop, LL. D. _, 78 FREDERICK BARBAROSSA, _Lady Lamb_, 65 VASCO DA GAMA, _Judge Albion W. Tourgée_, 139 THE GRACCHI, _James Anthony Froude, LL. D. _, 20 GUSTAVUS VASA, _Charles F. Horne_, 153 HANS GUTENBERG, _Alphonse de Lamartine_, 121 HAROLD, KING OF ENGLAND, 54 WILLIAM HARVEY, 172 HERCULES, _Charlotte M. Yonge_, 1 JOHN HOWARD, _Harriet G. Walker_, 194 JOAN OF ARC, _Ella Wheeler Wilcox_, 113 LEIF ERICSON, _Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen_, 49 ST. LOUIS, _Henry G. Hewlett_, 86 MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS, _Samuel L. Knapp_, 159 MARCO POLO, _Noah Brooks_, 92 RICHARD COEUR DE LION, 71 ROLAND, 39 ROLLO THE GANGER, _Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen_, 44 SIEGFRIED, _Karl Blind_, 31 CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH, _Marion Harland_, 166 PRINCE CHARLES STUART, _Andrew Lang, LL. D. _, 177 THESEUS, 5 ULYSSES, _Charles F. Horne_, 7 SIR WILLIAM WALLACE, 100 ARNOLD VON WINKELRIED, 111 XENOPHON, _Professor J. Pentland Mahaffy_, 15 ZENOBIA, QUEEN OF PALMYRA, _Anna Jameson_, 26

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

VOLUME V. 

PHOTOGRAVURES

 ILLUSTRATION ARTIST TO FACE PAGE

 COLUMBUS BEFORE ISABELLA, _Vacslav Brozik_ _Frontispiece_ ULYSSES DEFYING THE CYCLOPS, _Louis-Frederic Schutzenberger_ 10 THE MOTHER OF THE GRACCHI, _Gustave Boulanger_ 20 LEIF ERICSON OFF THE COAST OF VINELAND, _O. A. Wergeland_ 52 THE VISION OF ST. BERNARD, _Wilhelm Bernatzik_ 62 THE DEATH OF BARBAROSSA, _Wilhelm Beckmann_ 70 LOUIS IX. OPENS THE JAILS OF FRANCE, _Luc Olivier Merson_ 90 ARNOLD WINKELRIED AT SEMPACH, _Konrad Grob_ 112 JOAN OF ARC, _Mme. Zoe-Laure de Chatillon_ 118 MARY STUART AND RIZZIO, _Georg Conrader_ 162

WOOD-ENGRAVINGS AND TYPOGRAVURES

 HERCULES AT THE FEET OF OMPHALE, _J. E. Dantan_ 4 TRIBUTE TO THE MINOTAUR, _A. Gendron_ 6 ZENOBIA CAPTIVE, _H. Schmalz_ 26 SIEGFRIED SLAYING THE DRAGON, _K. Dielitz_ 32 THE RUINS OF KING ARTHUR'S CASTLE, _Percy Dixon_ 38 ROLAND AT RONCESVALLES, _Alphonse de Neuville_ 42 ROLLO THE RANGER ATTACKS PARIS, _Alphonse de Neuville_ 46 EDITH SEARCHING FOR THE BODY OF HAROLD, _Alphonse de Neuville_ 56 THE CID ORDERING THE EXECUTION OF AHMED, _Alphonse de Neuville_ 58 RICHARD COEUR DE LION ON THE FIELD OF ARSUR, _Gustave Doré_ 74 THE VISION OF ST. FRANCIS, _Chartran_ 84 THE EDUCATION OF LOUIS IX. , _Chartran_ 86 GUTENBERG'S INVENTION, _E. Hillemacher_ 126 THE FIRST SHEET FROM CAXTON'S PRESS, _E. H. Wehnert_ 130 COLUMBUS RIDICULED AT THE COUNCIL OF SALAMANCA, _Nicolo Barabino_ 134 BAYARD TAKING LEAVE OF THE LADIES OF BRESCIA, _Alphonse de Neuville_ 150 ABDICATION OF GUSTAVUS VASA, _Hersent_ 156 CAPTAIN SMITH SAVED BY POCAHONTAS, _Grosch_ 168 HARVEY DEMONSTRATING THE CIRCULATION OF THE BLOOD, _Robert Hannah_ 176 THE FIRST MEETING OF PRINCE CHARLES WITH FLORA MACDONALD, _Alex. Johnstone_ 184 DEATH OF CAPTAIN COOK, _J. Webber_ 192 HOWARD RELIEVING A PRISONER, _F. Wheatley_ 198 ETHAN ALLEN AT TICONDEROGA, _Alonzo Chappel_ 204

WORKMEN AND HEROES

 The heights by great men reached and kept Were not attained by sudden flight, But they, while their companions slept, Were toiling upward in the night. 

 --LONGFELLOW. 

HERCULES

By CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

[Illustration: Hercules. ]

One morning Jupiter boasted among the gods in Olympus that a son wouldthat day be born, in the line of Perseus, who would rule over all theArgives. Juno was angry and jealous at this, and, as she was the goddesswho presided over the births of children, she contrived to hinder thebirth of the child he intended till that day was over, and to hastenthat of another grandson of the great Perseus. This child was namedEurystheus, and, as he had been born on the right day, Jupiter wasforced to let him be King of Argos, Sparta, and Mycenæ, and all theDorian race; while the boy whom he had meant to be the chief was kept insubjection, in spite of having wonderful gifts of courage and strength, and a kind, generous nature, that always was ready to help the weak andsorrowful. 

His name was Alcides, or Hercules, and he was so strong at ten monthsold that, with his own hands, he strangled two serpents whom Juno sentto devour him in his cradle. He was bred up by Chiron, the chief of theCentaurs, a wondrous race of beings, who had horses' bodies as far asthe forelegs, but where the neck of the horse would begin had humanbreasts and shoulders, with arms and heads. Most of them were fierce andsavage; but Chiron was very wise and good, and, as Jupiter made himimmortal, he was the teacher of many of the great Greek heroes. WhenHercules was about eighteen, two maidens appeared to him--one in asimple white dress, grave, modest, and seemly; the other scarcelyclothed but tricked out in ornaments, with a flushed face, and bold, roving eyes. The first told him that she was Virtue, and that, if hewould follow her, she would lead him through many hard trials, but thathe would be glorious at last, and be blest among the gods. The other wasVice, and she tried to wile him by a smooth life among wine-cups anddances and flowers and sports, all to be enjoyed at once. But the choiceof Hercules was Virtue, and it was well for him, for Jupiter, to make upfor Juno's cheat, had sworn that, if he fulfilled twelve tasks whichEurystheus should put upon him, he should be declared worthy of beingraised to the gods at his death. 

Eurystheus did not know that in giving these tasks he was making hiscousin fulfil his course; but he was afraid of such a mighty man, andhoped that one of these would be the means of getting rid of him. Sowhen he saw Hercules at Argos, with a club made of a forest-tree in hishand, and clad in the skin of a lion which he had slain, Eurystheus badehim go and kill a far more terrible lion, of giant brood, and with askin that could not be pierced, which dwelt in the valley of Nemea. Thefight was a terrible one; the lion could not be wounded, and Herculeswas forced to grapple with it and strangle it in his arms. He lost afinger in the struggle, but at last the beast died in his grasp, and hecarried it on his back to Argos, where Eurystheus was so much frightenedat the grim sight that he fled away to hide himself, and commandedHercules not to bring his monsters within the gates of the city. 

There was a second labor ready for Hercules--namely, the destroying aserpent with nine heads, called Hydra, whose lair was the marsh ofLerna. Hercules went to the battle, and managed to crush one head withhis club, but that moment two sprang up in its place; moreover, a hugecrab came out of the swamp and began to pinch his heels. Still he didnot lose heart, but, calling his friend Iolaus, he bade him take afirebrand and burn the necks as fast as he cut off the heads; and thusat last they killed the creature, and Hercules dipped his arrows in itspoisonous blood, so that their least wound became fatal. Eurystheus saidthat it had not been a fair victory, since Hercules had been helped, andJuno put the crab into the skies as the constellation Cancer; while alabor to patience was next devised for Hercules--namely, the chasing ofthe Arcadian stag, which was sacred to Diana, and had golden horns andbrazen hoofs. Hercules hunted it up hill and down dale for a whole year, and when at last he caught it, he got into trouble with Apollo and Dianaabout it, and had hard work to appease them; but he did so at last; andfor his fourth labor was sent to catch alive a horrid wild boar on MountErymanthus. He followed the beast through a deep swamp, caught it in anet, and brought it to Mycenæ. 

The fifth task was a curious one. Augeas, King of Elis, had immenseherds, and kept his stables and cowhouses in a frightful state of filth, and Eurystheus, hoping either to disgust Hercules or kill him by theunwholesomeness of the work, sent him to clean them. Hercules, withouttelling Augeas it was his appointed task, offered to do it if he wererepaid the tenth of the herds, and received the promise on oath. Then hedug a canal, and turned the water of two rivers into the stables, so aseffectually to cleanse them; but when Augeas heard it was his task, hetried to cheat him of the payment, and on the other hand Eurystheussaid, as he had been rewarded, it could not count as one of his labors, and ordered him off to clear the woods near Lake Stymphalis of somehorrible birds, with brazen beaks and claws, and ready-made arrows forfeathers, which ate human flesh. To get them to rise out of the forestwas his first difficulty, but Pallas lent him a brazen clapper, whichmade them take to their wings; then he shot them with his poisonedarrows, killed many, and drove the rest away. 

King Minos, of Crete, had once vowed to sacrifice to the gods whatevershould appear from the sea. A beautiful white bull came, so fine that ittempted him not to keep his word, and he was punished by the bull goingmad, and doing all sorts of damage in Crete; so that Eurystheus thoughtit would serve as a labor for Hercules to bring the animal to Mycenæ. Indue time back came the hero, with the bull, quite subdued, upon hisshoulders; and, having shown it, he let it loose again to run aboutGreece. 

He had a harder task in getting the mares of the Thracian king, Diomedes, which were fed on man's flesh. He overcame their grooms, anddrove the beasts away; but he was overtaken by Diomedes, and, whilefighting with him and his people, put the mares under the charge of afriend; but when the battle was over, and Diomedes killed, he found thatthey had eaten up their keeper. However, when he had fed them on thedead body of their late master they grew mild and manageable, and hebrought them home. 

The next expedition was against the Amazons, a nation of women warriors, who lived somewhere on the banks of the Euxine, or Black Sea, kept theirhusbands in subjection, and seldom brought up a son. The bravest of allthe Amazons was the queen, Hippolyta, to whom Mars had given a belt as areward for her valor. Eurystheus's daughter wanted this belt, andHercules was sent to fetch it. He was so hearty, honest, andgood-natured, that he talked over Hippolyta, and she promised him hergirdle; but Juno, to make mischief, took the form of an Amazon, andpersuaded the ladies that their queen was being deluded and stolen awayby a strange man, so they mounted their horses and came down to rescueher. He thought she had been treacherous, and there was a great fight, in which he killed her, and carried off her girdle. 

Far out in the west, near the ocean flowing found the world, were herdsof purple oxen, guarded by a two-headed dog, and belonging to a giantwith three bodies called Geryon, who lived in the isle of Erythria, inthe outmost ocean. Passing Lybia, Hercules came to the end of theMediterranean Sea, Neptune's domain, and there set up twopillars--namely, Mounts Calpe and Abyla--on each side of the Straits ofGibraltar. The rays of the sun scorched him, and in wrath he shot at itwith his arrows, when Helios, instead of being angry, admired hisboldness, and gave him his golden cup, wherewith to cross the outerocean, which he did safely, although old Oceanus, who was king there, put up his hoary head, and tried to frighten him by shaking the bowl. Itwas large enough to hold all the herd of oxen, when Hercules had killeddog, herdsman, and giant, and he returned it safely to Helios when hehad crossed the ocean. 

Again Eurystheus sent Hercules to the utmost parts of the earth. Thistime it was to bring home the golden apples which grew in the gardens ofthe Hesperides, the daughters of old Atlas, who dwelt in the land ofHesperus, the Evening Star, and, together with a dragon, guarded thegolden tree in a beautiful garden. Hercules made a long journey, apparently round by the north, and on his way had to wrestle with adreadful giant named Antæus. Though thrown down over and over again, Antæus rose up twice as strong every time, till Hercules found out thathe grew in force whenever he touched his mother earth, and therefore, lifting him up in those mightiest of arms, the hero squeezed the breathout of him. By and by he came to Mount Caucasus, where he found thechained Prometheus, and, aiming an arrow at the eagle, killed thetormentor, and set the Titan free. Atlas undertook to go to hisdaughters, and get the apples, if Hercules would hold up the skies forhim in the meantime. Hercules agreed, and Atlas shifted the heavens tohis shoulders, went, and presently returned with three apples of gold, but said he would take them to Eurystheus, and Hercules must continue tobear the load of the skies. Prometheus bade Hercules say he could nothold them without a pad for them to rest on upon his head. Atlas tookthem again to hold while the pad was put on; and thereupon Herculespicked up the apples, and left the old giant to his load. 

One more labor remained--namely, to bring up the three-headed watch-dog, Cerberus, from the doors of Tartarus. Mercury and Pallas both came toattend him, and led him alive among the shades, who all fled from him, except Medusa and one brave youth. He gave them the blood of an ox todrink, and made his way to Pluto's throne, where he asked leave to takeCerberus to the upper world with him. Pluto said he might, if he couldovercome Cerberus without weapons; and this he did, struggling with thedog, with no protection but the lion's skin, and dragging him up to thelight, where the foam that fell from the jaws of one of the three mouthsproduced the plant called aconite, or hellebore, which is dark andpoisonous. After showing the beast to Eurystheus, Hercules safelyreturned him to the under world, and thus completed his twelve greatlabors. 

Hercules was subject to fits of madness, in one of which he slew afriend, and as a penalty he allowed himself to be sold as a slave. Hewas purchased by the Queen of Lydia, Omphale, and remained in herservice three years. She used to make him do a woman's work, and evendressed him at times in female garments, while she herself wore hisfamous lion skin and laughed at him. 

[Illustration: Hercules at the Feet of Omphale. ]

But strong as he was, Hercules had in time to meet death himself. He hadmarried a nymph named Deianira, and was taking her home, when he came toa river where a Centaur named Nessus lived, and gained his bread bycarrying travellers over on his back. Hercules paid him the price forcarrying Deianira over, while he himself crossed on foot; but as soon asthe river was between them, the faithless Centaur began to gallop awaywith the lady. Hercules sent an arrow after him, which brought him tothe ground, and as he was dying he prepared his revenge by tellingDeianira that his blood was enchanted with love for her, and that ifever she found her husband's affection failing her, she had only to makehim put on a garment anointed with it, and his heart would return toher; he knew full well that his blood was full of the poison of theHydra, but poor Deianira believed him, and had saved some of the bloodbefore Hercules came up. 

Several years after, Hercules made prisoner a maiden named Iole, inLydia, after gaining a great victory. Landing in the island of Euboea, he was going to make a great sacrifice to Jupiter, and sent home toDeianira for a festal garment to wear at it. She was afraid he wasfalling in love with Iole, and steeped the garment in the preparationshe had made from Nessus's blood. No sooner did Hercules put it on, thanhis veins were filled with agony, which nothing could assuage. He triedto tear off the robe, but the skin and flesh came with it, and his bloodwas poisoned beyond relief. Unable to bear the pain any longer, andknowing that by his twelve tasks he had earned the prize of endlesslife, he went to Mount Oeta, crying aloud with the pain, so that therocks rang again with the sound. He gave his quiver of arrows to hisfriend Philoctetes, charging him to collect his ashes and bury them, butnever to make known the spot; and then he tore up, with his mightystrength, trees by the roots, enough to form a funeral pile, lay down onit, and called on his friend to set fire to it; but no one could bear todo so, till a shepherd consented to thrust in a torch. Then thunder washeard, a cloud came down, and he was borne away to Olympus, whilePhiloctetes collected and buried the ashes. 

THESEUS

[Illustration: Theseus. ]

Theseus, the great national hero of Athens, is said to have been born atTroezen, where his father, Ægeus, King of Athens, slept one night withÆthra, the daughter of Pittheus, king of the place. Ægeus, on hisdeparture, hid his sword and his shoes under a large stone, and chargedÆthra, if she brought forth a son, to send him to Athens with thesetokens, as soon as he was able to roll away the stone. She brought fortha son, to whom she gave the name of Theseus, and when he was grown upinformed him of his origin, and told him to take up the tokens and sailto Athens, for the roads were infested by robbers and monsters. ButTheseus, who was desirous of emulating the glory of Hercules, refused togo by sea, and after destroying various monsters who had been the terrorof the country, arrived in safety at Athens. Here he was joyfullyrecognized by Ægeus, but with difficulty escaped destruction from Mediaand the Pallantids, the sons and grandsons of Pallas, the brother ofÆgeus. These dangers, however, he finally surmounted, and slew thePallantids in battle. 

His next exploit was the destruction of the great Marathonian bull, which ravaged the neighboring country; and shortly after he resolved todeliver the Athenians from the tribute that they were obliged to pay toMinos, King of Crete. Every ninth year the Athenians had to send sevenyoung men and as many virgins to Crete, to be devoured by the Minotaurin the Labyrinth. Theseus volunteered to go as one of the victims, andthrough the assistance of Ariadne, the daughter of Minos, who becameenamoured of him, he slew the Minotaur and escaped from the Labyrinth. He then sailed away with Ariadne, whom he deserted in the island of Diaor Naxos, an event which frequently forms the subject of ancient worksof art. The sails of the ship Theseus left Athens in were black, but hepromised his father, if he returned in safety, to hoist white sails. This, however, he neglected to do, and Ægeus, seeing the ship draw nearwith black sails, supposed that his son had perished, and threw himselffrom a rock. 

Theseus now ascended the throne of Athens. But his adventures were by nomeans concluded. He marched into the country of the Amazons, who dwelton the Thermodon, according to some accounts, in the company ofHercules, and carried away their queen, Antiope. The Amazons in revengeinvaded Attica, and were with difficulty defeated by the Athenians. Thisbattle was one of the favorite subjects of the ancient artists, and iscommemorated in several works of art that are still extant. Theseus alsotook part in the Argonautic expedition and the Calydonian hunt. Heassisted his friend Pirithous and the Lapithæ in their contest with theCentaurs, and also accompanied the former in his descent to the lowerworld to carry off Proserpine, the wife of Pluto. When Theseus was fiftyyears old, according to tradition, he carried off Helen, the daughter ofLeda, who was then only nine years of age. But his territory was invadedin consequence by Castor and Pollux, the brothers of Leda; his ownpeople rose against him, and at last, finding his affairs desperate, hewithdrew to the island of Scyros, and there perished, either by a fallfrom the cliffs or through the treachery of Lycomedes, the king of theisland. For a long time his memory was forgotten by the Athenians, buthe was subsequently honored by them as the greatest of their heroes. Atthe battle of Marathon they thought they saw him armed and bearing downupon the barbarians, and after the conclusion of the Persian war hisbones were discovered at Scyros by Cimon, who conveyed them to Athenswhere they were received with great pomp and deposited in a temple builtto his honor. A festival also was instituted, which was celebrated onthe eighth day of every month, but more especially on the eighth ofPyanipsion. 

The above is a brief account of the legends prevailing respectingTheseus. But he is, moreover, represented by ancient writers as thefounder of the Attic commonwealth, and even of its democraticinstitutions. It would be waste of time to inquire whether there was anhistorical personage of this name who actually introduced the politicalchanges ascribed to him; it will be convenient to adhere to the ancientaccount in describing them as the work of Theseus. 

[Illustration: Tribute to the Minotaur. ]

Before this time Attica contained many independent townships, which wereonly nominally united. Theseus incorporated the people into one state, removed the principal courts for the administration of justice toAthens, and greatly enlarged the city, which had hitherto covered littlemore than the rock which afterward formed the citadel. To cement theirunion he instituted several festivals, and especially changed theAthenæa into the Panathenæa, or the festivals of all the Atticans. Heencouraged the nobles to reside at Athens, and surrendered a part of hiskingly prerogatives to them; for which reason he is perhaps representedas the founder of the Athenian democracy, although the government whichhe established was, and continued to be long after him, strictlyaristocratic. 

ULYSSES[1]

 [Footnote 1: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By CHARLES F. HORNE

[Illustration: Ulysses. ]

While courage and strength seemed to the ancient Greeks the noblest ofvirtues, they ranked wisdom and ready wit almost as high. Achilles wasthe strongest of the Grecian warriors at the siege of Troy, but therewas another almost as strong, equally brave, and far shrewder of wit. This was Ulysses. It was he who ultimately brought about the capture ofthe city. Homer speaks often of him in his "Iliad;" and the bard'ssecond great work, the "Odyssey, " is devoted entirely to the wanderingsof Odysseus, or, as we have learned from the Romans to call him, Ulysses. Whether he was a real person or only a creation of the poet'sfancy, it is impossible to say. But as it is now generally agreed thatthere was a siege of Troy, it follows that there was probably a Ulysses, and his adventures, while in the main mythical, are of value as havingperhaps some foundation in truth, and giving, at all events, a pictureof what the old Greeks thought a hero should be and do. 

Ulysses was King of Ithaca when he was summoned to join the rest of theGrecian princes for the war with Troy. He had no wish to go, for he hadlately married a beautiful girl, Penelope, and was happy as a man mightbe. So when the heralds came he pretended to be insane, and hitching ayoke of oxen to a plough he drove them along the sands of the sea-shore. He sang and shouted, and ploughed up the sand, and scattered salt as ifhe were sowing it, and cried out that he would soon have a beautifulcrop of salt waves. The heralds watched him for a moment, and thenreturning to the princes told them that there was no use delivering thesummons to Ulysses, for he had lost his wits. Then Palamedes, who, afterUlysses, was accounted shrewdest of the Greeks, went, and standing thereon the beach, watched the plough. And he took Ulysses's baby son andthrew him in front of the team to see if the father was indeed mad. Ulysses turned the plough aside to avoid the child; and then the princesknew it was all a pretence, and he had to go with them. But he neverforgave Palamedes, and long after brought about his death. 

He was in many ways the ablest of the Greeks. Next to Achilles, Ajax wasaccounted the strongest; but Ulysses threw him in wrestling. Oilemenuswas regarded as the swiftest of men, but Ulysses in a race outran him. When Achilles was slain Ulysses alone held back all the Trojans, whilehis comrades bore the body to their ships. Many other great exploits heperformed, and his counsels were of much value to the Greeks through allthe long siege. A great pile of spoils was heaped up to be given to theman who had been of most use to the assailants, and the Trojan prisonersthemselves being called on to decide, gave it to Ulysses. At the last, when Achilles was dead, and the Greeks were all worn out and despairing, it was his fertile brain which originated the snare into which theTrojans fell. 

Now, with the other Greeks, Ulysses set out to return to his home. Yetfirst he stopped with his Ithacans to attack the Trojan city of Ciconia. The assault was unexpected and successful. Great treasure fell into thehands of the conquerors; but, in spite of their leader's entreaties, they persisted in stopping in the captured city for a night's carouse. The dispersed Ciconians rallied, gathered together their allies, andattacking the revellers, defeated them with great slaughter, so thatless than half of them escaped in their ships. Yet this was only thefirst of the many mishaps which befell the ill-starred Ulysses. Sopersistently did misfortune pursue him that the superstitious Greeksdeclared that he must have incurred the hatred of the sea-god, Neptune, who would not let him cross his domains. 

No sooner had his flying ships escaped from Ciconia than they werestruck by a terrific tempest which drove them far out of their course. For three days the storm continued; then, as it abated, they saw beforethem an unknown shore on which they landed to rest and recover theirstrength. It was the land of the lotos-eaters, and when Ulysses sentmessengers to find out where he was, they, too, ate of the lotos fruit. It caused them to forget everything; their struggles and exhaustion, their homes, their leader, the great battles they had fought, all wereobliterated. They only cared to lie there as the other lotos-eaters did, doing no work, but just dreaming all their lives, nibbling at the fruit, which was both food and drink, until they grew old and died. 

Ulysses knew that any life, no matter how wretched, was far better thanthis death in life. He forbade any other of his men to touch the fruit, and binding those who had already eaten it, he bore them, despite theirpleading and weeping, back to his ships, which he at once led away fromthat clime of subtle danger. They next sighted a fertile island, whereleaving most of his comrades for the rest they needed, Ulysses sailedin his own ship, exploring. He soon found himself in a beautifulcountry, where were seen vast herds of sheep and goats, but no people. Landing with his men, they explored it and found great caves full ofmilk and cheese, but still no people, only a huge giant in the distance. So sitting down in one of the caves they feasted merrily and awaited thereturn of the inhabitants. 

Now these inhabitants were giants, such as the one they had seen. Theywere called Cyclops, and had only one great eye in the middle of theforehead. The Cyclops who owned the cave in which the adventurers werewas a particularly large and savage one named Polyphemus. When hereturned at night and saw the men within, he immediately seized two ofthem, cracked their heads together, and ate them for supper. Then hewent to bed. Ulysses and his terrified men would have slain the hugecreature as he slept; but he had rolled a great stone in front of thedoor, and they could not possibly move it to escape. In the morning themonster ate two more of the unfortunates and then went off with hisflocks, fastening the door as before. In the evening he ate two more. 

By this time the crafty Ulysses, as Homer delights to call him, hadperfected his plans. He offered Polyphemus some wine, which so delightedhim that he asked the giver his name, and said he had it in mind to dohim a kindness. The crafty one told him his name was No-man. Then saidthe ogre, "This shall be your reward, I will eat No-man the last of youall. " Then, heavy with the wine, he fell into a deep sleep. The tinyweapons of the wanderers would have been of little effect against thisman-mountain, so taking a great pole, they heated it red-hot in thefire, and all together plunged it into his one great eye, blinding him. Up he jumped, roaring and howling horribly, and groping in the dark tofind his prisoners; but they easily avoided him. Then came other Cyclopsrunning at the noise from their distant caves, and called to him, "Whohas hurt thee, Polyphemus?"

He answered them, "No-man has hurt me, No-man has blinded me. "

Then they said, "If no man has hurt thee, thy trouble is from the gods, and we may not interfere. Bear it patiently, and pray to them. "

In the morning Polyphemus opened the door, and sitting in it, let hissheep pass out, feeling each one, so that the Greeks might not escape. But the crafty one fastened himself and his remaining comrades under thebreasts of the largest sheep, and so, hidden by the wool, escapedunnoticed. They hurried to their ship and put out to sea. And nowfeeling safe, Ulysses shouted to the blind monster and taunted him, whereon, rushing to the shore, Polyphemus lifted up a vast rock andhurled it toward the sound he heard. It almost struck the vessel, andits waves swept the little craft back to the land. In great haste theyshoved off again, and when they felt safe, shouted at him once more. Hefollowed them, hurling rocks, but now they were beyond his reach andreturned safely to their companions. 

Next the wanderers reached the island of Æolus, who controls the winds. He received them with royal hospitality, pointed out to them theirproper course to Ithaca, and when they left him, gave to Ulysses a bagin which he had tied up all the contrary winds, that they might have afair one to waft them home. For nine days they sailed, and at last wereactually in sight of their destination; but the seamen fancying therewas treasure in Æolus's bag opened it while their leader slept. At onceleaped out all the wild winds, and there was a terrible tempest whichswept the vessels back to their starting-point. Æolus, however, refusedto help them again, for he said they were plainly accursed of the gods. 

So they journeyed on as best they might, and came to the land of theLæstrygonians. These people were of enormous strength and werecannibals; but Ulysses and his men knowing nothing of this, sailed intothe narrow harbor. As they landed the cannibals rushed upon them andslew them, and hurling rocks from the top of the narrow entrance, sankthose ships which would have escaped. Ulysses in his own ship managed toforce his way out, but all the other ships were taken and their crewsslain. 

Then, in deep mourning, Ulysses sailed on till he came to the home ofCirce, a beautiful but wicked enchantress. Here he divided his crew intotwo parties, and while one half rested, the others went to find whatplace this was. Circe welcomed them in her palace, feasted them, andgave them a magic drink. When they had drunk this, she touched them withher wand, and they were turned into swine, all except one, who hadfeared to enter the palace, and now returning, told Ulysses that theothers had disappeared. Then the hero arose and went alone to thepalace; but on the way he sought out a little herb which might renderthe drink harmless. This he ate, and when Circe having given him thedeadly cup, would have turned him also into a brute, he drew his swordas if to slay her. Terribly frightened, she besought mercy, and at hisrequest restored his men to their own forms. 

Directed by her, Ulysses is said to have entered the abode of the dead, and conversed with the ghosts of all the great warriors who had beenslain in the Trojan war, or who had died since. At last, when Circe hadno more wonders to show him, the wanderer left her, once more directedon the road to Ithaca, and to some extent warned of the dangers whichbeset the path. 

First he had to pass the Sirens, beautiful but baleful maidens, who saton a rocky shore and sang a magic song so alluring, that men hearing itlet their ships drift on the rocks while listening, or threw themselvesinto the sea to swim to the maidens, and were drowned. No man had everheard them and lived. Here the crafty one filled his companions' earswith wax, so they could not hear the Sirens' song, and he bade them bindhim to the mast, so that he might hear it but could not go to them. Thiswas done, and they passed in safety. Ulysses heard the sweet song, andraved and struggled to break his bonds, but they held fast. So he wasthe first to hear the Sirens' song and live. And some say he was thelast as well, for in despair, thinking their music had lost its power, the maidens threw themselves into the sea. 

[Illustration: Ulysses defying the Cyclops. ]

Next the wanderers came to a narrow strait, on one side of which wasCharybdis, a dread whirlpool from which no ship could escape, and on theother was the cave of Scylla, a monster having six snake-like heads, with each of which she seized a man from every passing ship. Choosingthe lesser evil, the bold Ulysses sailed through the strait close toScylla; and six poor wretches were snatched by the monster from the deckand devoured, but the rest escaped. 

[Illustration: Menelaus. Paris. Diomedes. Ulysses. Nestor. Achilles. Agamemnon. ]

Then they came to an uninhabited island, filled with herds of cattle. These were held sacred to the sun, and no man might slay or eat themwithout being punished by the gods. This Ulysses knew well, and warnedhis men against touching them; but great tempests now swelled up, andfor a whole month the sailors could not leave the island. Theirprovisions gave out and they were starving. Then their leader wanderedaway looking for help, and while he was gone they slew some of the oxenand ate their fill. The storm died, and, Ulysses returning, they againset sail; but at once came a terrific hurricane, upset the ship, anddrowned all of the guilty ones. Ulysses had not eaten the flesh of theoxen; and he alone was saved, clinging to a spar, and was tossed on theisland of the nymph Calypso. After a long sojourn he escaped from hereon a raft. But his old enemy Neptune again raised a storm, which brokehis raft; and, naked and almost dead, he was thrown upon another shore, from which at last the pitying people sent him home. He had been awaytwenty years. 

His fair wife Penelope had been for four years past pestered withsuitors, who declared that Ulysses must be dead. She put them all off, by saying that first she must finish a wonderful cloth she was weaving;and on this she undid each night what she had done in the day. Meanwhilethey stayed in the palace, haughty and insolent, terrifying everybody, in defiance of the protests of Ulysses' infant son, now grown to bealmost a man. 

The wanderer, coming alone and finding how things were, feared theywould slay him; so, disguised as an old beggar man, he went to thepalace. The suitors mocked him, and then in sport it was proposed to seewho could bend the great Ulysses's bow. It was brought out, but nonecould bend it. The beggar asked leave to try, and they hesitated, butgave him leave. Right easily he bent it, and sent then a broad arrowthrough the leader of the suitors. Ulysses's son ranged himself by hisside. Some old servants, recognizing him, did the same; and soon allthose parasites were slain. Then was there a royal welcome from wife andson, and afterward from kinsmen and friends and servants, for the royalwanderer, whom the gods had spared, and who at last was returned home. 

ÆNEAS

By CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

[Illustration: Æneas. ]

Among the Trojans at the fall of Troy there was a prince called Æneas, whose father was Anchises, a cousin of Priam, and whose mother was saidto be the goddess Venus. When he saw that the city was lost he rushedback to his house and took his old father Anchises on his back, givinghim his penates, or little images of household gods, to take care of, and led by the hand his little son Iulus, or Ascanius, while his wifeCreusa followed close behind, and all the Trojans who could get theirarms together joined him, so that they escaped in a body to Mount Ida;but just as they were outside the city he missed poor Creusa, and thoughhe rushed back and searched for her everywhere, he never could find her. Because of his care for his gods, and for his old father, he is alwaysknown as the pious Æneas. 

In the forests of Mount Ida he built ships enough to set forth with allhis followers in quest of the new home which his mother, the goddessVenus, gave him hopes of. He had adventures rather like those of Ulyssesas he sailed about the Mediterranean. Once in the Strophades, someclusters belonging to the Ionian Islands, where he and his troops hadlanded to get food, and were eating the flesh of the numerous goatswhich they found climbing about the rocks, down on them came theharpies, horrible birds with women's faces and hooked hands, with whichthey snatched away the food and spoiled what they could not eat. TheTrojans shot at them, but the arrows glanced off their feathers and didnot hurt them. However, they all flew off except one, who sat on a highrock, and croaked out that the Trojans would be punished for thusmolesting the harpies, by being tossed about till they should reachItaly, but there they should not build their city till they should havebeen so hungry as to eat their very trenchers. 

They sailed away from this dismal prophetess, and touched on the coastof Epirus, where Æneas found his cousin Helenus, son to old Priam, reigning over a little new Troy, and married to Andromache, Hector'swife, whom he had gained after Pyrrhus had been killed. Helenus was aprophet, and he gave Æneas much advice. In especial he said that whenthe Trojans should come to Italy they would find, under the holly-treesby the river-side, a large, white, old sow lying on the ground, with alitter of thirty little pigs round her, and this should be a sign tothem where they were to build their city. 

By his advice the Trojans coasted round the south of Sicily, instead oftrying to pass the strait between the dreadful Scylla and Charybdis, andjust below Mount Etna an unfortunate man came running down to the beachbegging to be taken in. He was a Greek, who had been left behind whenUlysses escaped from Polyphemus's cave, and had made his way to theforests, where he had lived ever since. They had just taken him in whenthey saw the Cyclop coming down, with a pine-tree for a staff, to washthe burning hollow of his lost eye in the sea, and they rowed off ingreat terror. 

Poor old Anchises died shortly after, and while his son was stillsorrowing for him, Juno, who hated every Trojan, stirred up a terribletempest, which drove the ships to the south, until, just as the seabegan to calm down, they came into a beautiful bay, enclosed by tallcliffs with woods overhanging them. Here the tired wanderers landed, and, lighting a fire, Æneas went in quest of food. Coming out of theforest they looked down from a hill, and beheld a multitude of peoplebuilding a city, raising walls, houses, towers, and temples. Into one ofthese temples Æneas entered, and to his amazement he found the wallssculptured with all the story of the siege of Troy, and all his friendsso perfectly represented, that he burst into tears at the sight. 

Just then a beautiful queen, attended by a whole troop of nymphs, cameinto the temple. This lady was Dido; her husband, Sichæus, had been Kingof Tyre, till he was murdered by his brother, Pygmalion, who meant tohave married her; but she fled from him with a band of faithful Tyriansand all her husband's treasure, and had landed on the north coast ofAfrica. There she begged of the chief of the country as much land ascould be enclosed by a bullock's hide. He granted this readily; andDido, cutting the hide into the finest possible strips, managed tomeasure off ground enough to build the splendid city which she had namedCarthage. She received Æneas most kindly, and took all his men into hercity, hoping to keep them there forever, and make him her husband. Æneashimself was so happy there that he forgot all his plans and theprophecies he had heard, until Jupiter sent Mercury to rouse him tofulfil his destiny. He obeyed the call; and Dido was so wretched at hisdeparture that she caused a great funeral pile to be built, laid herselfon the top, and stabbed herself with Æneas's sword; the pile was burnt, and the Trojans saw the flame from their ships without knowing thecause. 

By and by Æneas landed at a place in Italy named Cumæ. There dwelt oneof the Sibyls. These were wondrous virgins whom Apollo had endowed withdeep wisdom; and when Æneas went to consult the Cumæan Sibyl, she toldhim that he must visit the under-world of Pluto to learn his fate. First, however, he had to go into a forest, and find there and gather agolden bough, which he was to bear in his hand to keep him safe. Long hesought it, until two doves, his mother's birds, came flying before himto show him the tree where gold gleamed through the boughs, and he foundthe branch growing on the tree as mistletoe grows on the thorn. 

Guarded with this, and guided by the Sibyl, after a great sacrifice, Æneas passed into a gloomy cave, where he came to the river Styx, roundwhich flitted all the shades who had never received funeral rites, andwhom the ferryman, Charon, would not carry over. The Sibyl, however, made him take Æneas across, his boat groaning under the weight of ahuman body. On the other side stood Cerberus, but the Sibyl threw him acake of honey and of some opiate, and he lay asleep, while Æneas passedon and found in myrtle groves all who had died for love--among them, tohis surprise, poor forsaken Dido. A little farther on he found the homeof the warriors, and held converse with his old Trojan friends. Hepassed by the place of doom for the wicked, Tartarus; and in the ElysianFields, full of laurel groves and meads of asphodel, he found the spiritof his father Anchises, and with him was allowed to see the souls of alltheir descendants, as yet unborn, who should raise the glory of theirname. They are described on to the very time when the poet wrote to whomwe owe all the tale of the wanderings of Æneas, namely, Virgil, whowrote the "Æneid, " whence all these stories are taken. He further tellsus that Æneas landed in Italy, just as his old nurse Caiëta died, at theplace which still is called Gaëta. After they had buried her they founda grove, where they sat down on the grass to eat, using large roundcakes or biscuits to put their meat on. Presently they came to eating upthe cakes. Little Ascanius cried out, "We are eating our very tables, "and Æneas, remembering the harpy's words, knew that his wanderings wereover. 

Virgil goes on to tell at much length how the king of the country, Latinus, at first made friends with Æneas, and promised him his daughterLavinia in marriage; but Turnus, an Italian chief who had before been asuitor to Lavinia, stirred up a great war, and was only conquered andkilled after much hard fighting. However, the white sow was found in theright place with all her little pigs, and on the spot was founded thecity of Alba Longa, where Æneas and Lavinia reigned until he died, andhis descendants, through his two sons, Ascanius or Iulus, and ÆneasSilvius, reigned after him for fifteen generations. 

XENOPHON[2]

 [Footnote 2: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By PROFESSOR J. PENTLAND MAHAFFY

(445-354 B. C. )

[Illustration: Xenophon. ]

There is no figure in Greek history more familiar to us than this famousAthenian. There are passages in his life known to every schoolboy; wepossess all the books he ever wrote; we know therefore his opinions uponall the important questions of life, religion, ethics, politics, manners, education, as well as upon finance and military tactics, not tospeak of social intercourse and sport. And yet his early youth and lateage are hidden from us. Like the models of Greek eloquence, which beginwith tame obviousness, rise into dignity, fire, pathos, and then closesoftly, without sounding peroration, so Xenophon comes upon us, aneducated young man, looking out for something to do; we lose him in theautumn of his life, when he was driven from the fair retreat which theold man had hoped would be his final resting-place. During seven yearsof his early manhood we find him in the middle of all the most stirringevents in the Greek world. For thirty years later (394-62 B. C. ), we hearhim from his retired country-seat recording contemporary history, telling the adventures of his youth, from the fascinations of the raggedSocrates to the fascinations of the magnificent Cyrus, preaching thelessons of his varied life. Then came the bitter loss of his brave son, killed in the van at Mantinea. According to good authority he onlysurvived this blow a couple of years. But even then he appears to havefound distraction from his grief by a dry tract upon the Attic revenue. Such is the general outline which we shall fill up and color fromallusions throughout his varied and manifold writings. 

He was a pure Athenian, evidently of aristocratic birth, and attracted, probably by his personal beauty, the attention of Socrates, who is saidto have stopped him in the way, and asked him did he know where men ofhonor were to be found; upon his replying _no_, the sage said, follow meand learn. This apocryphal anecdote, at all events, records the factthat Xenophon attached himself to Socrates's teaching, and so affordedus perhaps the most remarkable instance of the great and variousinfluence of that great teacher. We do not wonder at disciples likePlato; but here is a young man of fashion, of a practical turn, andloving adventure, who records in after years the teaching after his ownfashion, and in a perfectly independent way, as the noblest oftraining. His youth, however, was spent in the distressful later yearsof the Peloponnesian War, which ended in fearful gloom and disaster forhis native city. Intimate, apparently, with the great historianThucydides, whose unfinished work he seems to have edited, andsubsequently to have continued in his own "Hellenica, " he must have longforeseen the collapse of the Athenian empire, and then he and many otheradventurous spirits found themselves in a society faded in prosperity, with no scope for energy or enterprise. Such was the somewhat tame andvulgar Athens which succeeded to that of Pericles and Aristophanes, andwhich could not tolerate the spiritual boldness of Socrates. He tells ushimself, in the third book of his "Anabasis, " how he was tempted toleave Athens for the East by his friend Proxenus, who had made theacquaintance of the chivalrous and ambitious Cyrus, brother of thePersian king, and governor of southern Asia Minor. This prince waspreparing secretly to invade Persia and dethrone his brother, and forthat purpose was gathering troops and courting the favor of the Greeks. His splendid gifts were on a scale sufficient to dazzle men of smallmeans and smaller prospects, like the youth of conquered Athens. Xenophon thought it right to consult his spiritual guide, Socrates, onthe propriety of abandoning his country for hireling service. Thephilosopher advised him to consult the oracle at Delphi, but the youngman only asked what gods he might best conciliate before his departure, and Socrates, though noting the evasion of his advice, acquiesced. 

When Xenophon arrived at Sardis, Proxenus presented him to Cyrus, whoinvited him to accompany him on his pretended campaign to Pisidia, andthen coaxed him on with the rest into his enterprise against the kingArtaxerxes. On this expedition or _anabasis_ up the country, Xenophonwas only a volunteer, with no command, and under no man's orders, butaccompanying the army on horseback, and enjoying the trip as a brightyoung man, well appointed by the prince, and full of intelligentcuriosity, was sure to enjoy it. But then came the decisive day ofCunaxa, where Xenophon offered his services as an extra aide-de-camp toCyrus, and where he witnessed the victory of his countrymen and thedefeat of their cause by the rashness and death of Cyrus. In the crisiswhich followed he took no leading part, till the generals of the 10, 000Greeks were entrapped and murdered by Tissaphernes. Then, in the midstof the panic and despair which supervened, he tells us in graphic wordshow he came to be a leader of men. He, too, with the rest, was in soredistress, and could not sleep; but anon getting a snatch of rest he hada dream. It seemed to him that there was a storm, and a thunderbolt fellon his father's house and set it all in a blaze. He sprang up in terror, and, pondering the matter, decided that in part the dream was good, inthat when in great danger he had seen a light from Zeus; but partly, too, he feared it, for it came from the king of heaven. But as soon ashe was fully awake the first clear thought that came into his head was:"Why am I lying here? The night advances, and with the coming day theenemy will be upon us. If we fall into the king's hands we must facetorture, slavery, and death, and yet here we lie, as if it were a timefor rest! What am I waiting for? Is it a general to lead me? and whereis he? or till I am myself of riper age to command? Older I shall neverbe, if to-day I surrender to mine enemies. " And so he rouses theofficers of his murdered friend, Proxenos, and appeals to them all to beup and stirring, to organize their defence and appoint new leaders todirect them. Before dawn he has some kind of confidence restored, andthe new organization in progress. Presently the Persians send to demandthe surrender of the army whose generals they had seized, and find totheir astonishment that their task of subduing the Greeks must beginafresh. Meanwhile the policy of the Greek army becomes defined. Theythreaten to settle in Mesopotamia and build a fortified city which shallbe a great danger and a torment to the king. They really desire toescape to the coast, if they can but find the way. 

It was the king's policy to let them depart, but so harass them by theway as to produce disorder and rout, which meant absolute destruction. It was in conducting this retreat, as a joint general with the SpartanCheirisophos, that Xenophon showed all his resource. There were no greatpitched battles; no room for strategy or large combinations; but amplescope for resource in the details of tactics for meeting new and suddendifficulties, for maintaining order among an army of men that onlyacknowledged leaders for their ability. At first, in the plains, as theyjourneyed northward, the danger was from the Persian cavalry, for theirown contingent had deserted to the enemy. This difficulty, whichwell-nigh ruined the 10, 000, as it ruined Crassus in his retreat atCarrhæ, he met by organizing a corps of Rhodian slingers and archers, whose range was longer than that of the Persians, and who thus kept thecavalry in check. When the plains were passed, and the mountainsreached, there arose the new difficulties of forcing passes, ofrepelling wild mountaineers from positions commanding the road, ofproviding food, and avoiding false routes. The narrative of thesurmounting of all these obstacles with tact and temper is the mainsubject of the famous "Anabasis. " Still graver dangers awaited Xenophonwhen the retreating army had at last hailed the welcome sea--the BlackSea--and with returning safety returned jealousies, insubordinations, and the great problem what to do with this great army when it arrived atGreek cities. Xenophon had always dreamt of forming on the border ofHellenedom a new city state, which should honor him as its founder. Thewilder spirits thought it simpler to loot some rich city like Byzantium, which was saved with difficulty from their lawlessness. The Spartangovernors, who now ruled throughout the Greek world, saw the danger, andwere determined to delay and worry the dangerous horde until itdissipated; and they succeeded so well that presently the 6, 000 thatremained were glad to be led by Xenophon to take service under theSpartan commander Thibron in Asia Minor (399 B. C. ). But Xenophon was notgiven any independent command. He appears to have acted on the staff ofthe successive Spartan commanders till with King Agesilaus he attainedpersonal influence, and probably planned the new expedition of that kingto conquer Persia, which was only balked by a diversion wrought byPersian gold in Greece. With Agesilaus Xenophon returned therefore toGreece, and was present at the great shock of the rival infantries, theTheban and the Spartan, at Coronea (394 B. C. ). But either his presencein the Spartan army, or his former action against the King of Persia, whom shifting politics were now bringing over to the Athenian side, caused him to be sentenced to banishment at Athens, and so made hisreturn to his native city impossible. He went, therefore, with his royalpatron to Sparta, and sojourned there for some time, even sending forhis sons, now growing boys, from Miletus, and submitting them, atAgesilaus's advice, to the famous Spartan education. They grew up fineand warlike young men, so that the death of one of them, Gryllus, in acavalry skirmish just before the great battle of Mantinea (362 B. C. )caused universal regret. But long before this catastrophe the Spartansgave Xenophon possession of an estate at Skillus, near the famousOlympia, which combined the pleasures of seclusion and of field sportswith those of varied society when the stream of visitors assembled forthe Olympic games (every four years). He himself tells us that he andhis family, in company with their neighbors, had excellent sport of allkinds. He was not only a careful farmer, but so keen at hunting haresthat he declares a man at this delightful pursuit "will forget that heever cared for anything else. " He had also built a shrine to hispatroness, the goddess Artemis, and the solemn sacrifices at her shrinewere the occasion of feasts, whose solemnity only enhanced theirenjoyments. As Mr. Dakyns writes: "The lovely scenery of the place, tothis day lovely; the delicious atmosphere; the rare combination ofmountain, wood, and stream; the opportunity for sport; the horses andthe dogs; the household, the farmstead, and their varying occupations;the neighboring country gentlemen, and the local politics; the recurringfestival at Olympia with its stream of visitors; the pleasures ofhospitable entertainment; the constant sacrifices before the cedar imageof Artemis in her temple--these things, and above all the serenesatisfaction of successful literary labors, combined to form an enviablesum total of sober happiness during many years. " There can be no doubtthat this was the first great period of his literary activity, though hemay have edited, in early youth, his predecessor Thucydides, andcomposed the first two books of his historical continuation entitled"Hellenica. " In his retreat at Skillus he composed a series of"Dialogues, " in what is termed the Socratic vein; "Memorials" of hisgreat master, a tract on household "Economy, " another on a "Symposium, "or feast, one called "Hiero, " or on the Greek tyrant, and an account ofthe "Laconian Polity, " which he had so long admired and known. The tracton "Hunting" also speaks the experience at Skillus. The tract "On theAthenian State, " preserved among his writings, is not from his hand, butthe work of an earlier writer. 

With the sudden rise of the Theban power, and consequent depression ofSparta, he and other settlers around Skillus were driven out by theEleans, and he lost his country-seat, with all its agreeable diversions. But probably the ageing man did not feel the transference of his home toCorinth so keenly as an English gentleman would. He was a thoroughGreek, and therefore intensely attached to city life, Elis, his adoptedcountry, being the only state which consisted of a country gentry. 

In the next place, a daily thoroughfare such as the Isthmus, must havebeen far more suitable for the collecting of historical evidence thanSkillus, where the crowd came by only once in four years. And then hisgrown-up sons could find something more serious to do than hunting deer, boars, and hares in the glades of Elis. He may have known, too, that hischances of restoration to Athens were improving, and that he would dowell to be within easy reach of friends in that city. Indeed we findthat the rescinding of exile soon followed, and so he was able to sendhis two sons to do cavalry duty for Athens (and Sparta) against theThebans. It is, indeed, likely that the young men were enrolled asSpartan volunteers. He himself must have kept very close to his literarywork; for in these closing years of his life he brought out or re-editedthe "Anabasis;" he discussed "Cavalry Tactics, " he kept writing upcontemporary history to the year 362 B. C. , when the star of Thebes setwith the death of Epaminondas; he completed his long and perhaps tedioushistorical novel, the "Education of Cyrus" (the elder), and lastlycomposed a curious and fanciful tract on the "Revenues of Athens. " Thereis no evidence that he ever changed his residence back to his nativecity, but that he often went there when no obstacle remained, from theneighboring Corinth, is most probable. An open sailing boat could carryhim, with a fair wind, in a few hours. Though a very old man, he was, however, still active with his pen when we lose him. His promisingremaining son disappears with him from the scene; we hear of nodescendants. The only offspring he has left us are his immortal works. The names of these have already been given, with the exception of thespeech put into Socrates's mouth as his Defence, the tract on "TheHorse, " appendant to his "Cavalry Tactics, " and his "Panegyric onAgesilaus. " It remains to estimate their general features. Withoutcontroversy, he excelled all his great contemporaries in breadth ofculture and experience, and in the variety of his interests. Philosophy, politics, war, husbandry, sport, travel, are all represented in hisworks. And upon all he has written with a clearness and a grace whichearned for him the title of the "Attic Bee. " But this breadth implies(as usual) a certain lack of depth, as is particularly obvious in hiscase, owing to the almost necessary comparison with his two mightyrivals--Thucydides, in history, Plato, in philosophy. It may, indeed, beconsidered hard luck for him that he stood between two such men, forthey have necessarily damaged his reputation by comparison. Xenophon'sportrait of Socrates is quite independent, and probably historicallytruer than that of Plato; but the sage lives for us in Plato, not inXenophon. The Retreat of the Ten Thousand, and the wars of Epaminondaswere far more brilliant than the operations of the Peloponnesian War. Yet, to the scholar, a raid in Thucydides is more than a campaign inXenophon. For neither is his style so pure as that of either of hisrivals, nor is his enthusiasm the same. We feel him always a polishedman of the world--never the rugged patriot, never the rapt seer. Heseems, too, to lack impartiality. He lavishes praise upon Agesilaus, asecond-rate man, while he is curt and ill-tempered concerningEpaminondas, the real genius of the age. It is more than likely that hehas colored his own part in the famous "Retreat, " in glowing colors. His hereditary instincts lead him to approve of autocrats as againstrepublics, Spartan discipline as against Attic freedom. Yet in himselfhe has shown a striking example how the latter could appreciate andembrace the former. As the simplest specimen of pure Attic prose he willever be paramount in schools, neglected in universities--the recreationrather than the occupation of mature scholars. He is a great worthy, aman of renown; "nevertheless, he did not attain unto the firstthree"--the two masters of his own day, and the colossal Demosthenes. 

[Signature: J. Pentland Mahaffy. ]

THE GRACCHI

Extracts from "Cæsar, a Sketch, " by JAMES ANTHONY FROUDE, LL. D. (164-133, 153-121 B. C. )

[Illustration: The Gracchi. ]

Tiberius Gracchus was born about the year 164 B. C. He was one of twelvechildren, nine of whom died in infancy, himself, his brother Caius, andhis sister Cornelia being the only survivors. His family was plebeian, but of high antiquity, his ancestors for several generations having heldthe highest offices in the Republic. On the mother's side he was thegrandson of Scipio Africanus. His father, after a distinguished careeras a soldier in Spain and Sardinia, had attempted reforms at Rome. Hehad been censor, and in this capacity he had ejected disreputablesenators from the Curia; he had degraded offending Equites; he hadrearranged and tried to purify the Comitia. But his connections werearistocratic. His wife was the daughter of the most famous of them, Scipio Africanus the Younger. He had been himself in antagonism with thetribunes, and had taken no part, at any time, in popular agitations. 

[Illustration: The Mother of the Gracchi. ]

The father died when Tiberius was still a boy, and the two brothers grewup under the care of their mother, a noble and gifted lady. They earlydisplayed remarkable talents. Tiberius, when old enough, went into thearmy, and served under his brother-in-law in the last Carthaginiancampaign. He was first on the walls of the city in the final storm. Tenyears later he went to Spain as quæstor, when he carried on his father'spopularity, and by taking the people's side in some questions, fell intodisagreement with his brother-in-law. His political views had perhapsalready inclined to change. He was still of an age when indignationat oppression calls out a practical desire to resist it. On his journeyhome from Spain he witnessed scenes which confirmed his conviction anddetermined him to throw all his energies into the popular cause. Hisroad lay through Tuscany, where he saw the large estate system in fulloperation--the fields cultivated by the slave gangs, the free citizensof the Republic thrust away into the towns, aliens and outcasts in theirown country, without a foot of soil which they could call their own. InTuscany, too, the vast domains of the landlords had not even been fairlypurchased. They were parcels of the _ager publicus_, land belonging tothe state, which, in spite of a law forbidding it, the great lords andcommoners had appropriated and divided among themselves. Five hundredacres of state land was the most which by statute any one lessee mightbe allowed to occupy. But the law was obsolete or sleeping, and avariceand vanity were awake and active. Young Gracchus, in indignant pity, resolved to rescue the people's patrimony. He was chosen tribune in theyear 133. His brave mother and a few patricians of the old typeencouraged him, and the battle of the revolution began. The Senate, ashas been said, though without direct legislative authority, had beenallowed the right of reviewing any new schemes which were to besubmitted to the Assembly. The constitutional means of preventingtribunes from carrying unwise or unwelcome measures lay in a consul'sveto, or in the help of the College of Augurs, who could declare theauspices unfavorable and so close all public business. These resourceswere so awkward that it had been found convenient to secure beforehandthe Senate's approbation, and the encroachment, being long submitted to, was passing by custom into a rule. But the Senate, eager as it was, hadnot yet succeeded in engrafting the practice into the constitution. Onthe land question the leaders of the aristocracy were the principaloffenders. 

Disregarding usage, and conscious that the best men of all ranks werewith him, Tiberius Gracchus appealed directly to the people to revivethe Agrarian law. His proposals were not extravagant. That they shouldhave been deemed extravagant was a proof of how much some measure of thekind was needed. Where lands had been enclosed and money laid out onthem, he was willing that the occupants should have compensation. Butthey had no right to the lands themselves. Gracchus persisted that the_ager publicus_ belonged to the people, and that the race of yeomen, forwhose protection the law had been originally passed, must bere-established on their farms. No form of property gives to its ownersso much consequence as land, and there is no point on which in everycountry an aristocracy is more sensitive. The large owners protestedthat they had purchased their interests on the faith that the law wasobsolete. They had planted and built and watered with the sanction ofthe government, and to call their titles in question was to shake thefoundations of society. The popular party pointed to the statute. Themonopolists were entitled in justice to less than was offered them. Theyhad no right to a compensation at all. Political passion awoke againafter the sleep of a century. The oligarchy had doubtless connived atthe accumulations. The suppression of the small holdings favored theirsupremacy, and placed the elections more completely in their control. Their military successes had given them so long a tenure of power thatthey had believed it to be theirs in perpetuity; and the new sedition, as they called it, threatened at once their privileges and theirfortunes. The quarrel assumed the familiar form of a struggle betweenthe rich and the poor, and at such times the mob of voters becomes lesseasy to corrupt. They go with their order, as the prospect of largergain makes them indifferent to immediate bribes. It became clear thatthe majority of the citizens would support Tiberius Gracchus, but theconstitutional forms of opposition might still be resorted to. OctaviusCæcina, another of the tribunes, had himself large interests in the landquestion. He was the people's magistrate, one of the body appointedespecially to defend their rights, but he went over to the Senate, and, using a power which undoubtedly belonged to him, he forbade the vote tobe taken. 

There was no precedent for the removal of either consul, prætor, ortribune, except under circumstances very different from any which couldas yet be said to have arisen. The magistrates held office for a yearonly, and the power of veto had been allowed them expressly to securetime for deliberation and to prevent passionate legislation. ButGracchus was young and enthusiastic. Precedent or no precedent, thecitizens were omnipotent, he invited them to declare his colleaguedeposed. They had warmed to the fight, and complied. A more experiencedstatesman would have known that established constitutional bulwarkscannot be swept away by a momentary vote. He obtained his Agrarian law. Three commissioners were appointed, himself, his younger brother, andhis father-in-law, Appius Claudius, to carry it into effect; but thevery names showed that he had alienated his few supporters in the highercircles, and that a single family was now contending against the unitedwealth and distinction of Rome. The issue was only too certain. Popularenthusiasm is but a fire of straw. In a year Tiberius Gracchus would beout of office. Other tribunes would be chosen more amenable toinfluence, and his work could then be undone. He evidently knew thatthose who would succeed him could not be relied on to carry on hispolicy. He had taken one revolutionary step already; he was driven on toanother, and he offered himself illegally to the Comitia forre-election. It was to invite them to abolish the constitution, and tomake him virtual sovereign; and that a young man of thirty should havecontemplated such a position for himself as possible, is of itself aproof of his unfitness for it. The election day came. The noble lordsand gentlemen appeared in the Campus Martius with their retinues ofarmed servants and clients; hot-blooded aristocrats, full of disdain fordemagogues, and meaning to read a lesson to sedition which it would noteasily forget. Votes were given for Gracchus. Had the hustings been leftto decide the matter, he would have been chosen; but as it began toappear how the polling would go, sticks were used and swords; a riotrose, the unarmed citizens were driven off, Tiberius Gracchus himselfand three hundred of his friends were killed, and their bodies wereflung into the Tiber. 

Thus the first sparks of the coming revolution were trampled out. Butthough quenched and to be again quenched with fiercer struggles, it wasto smoulder and smoke and burst out time after time, till its work wasdone. Revolution could not restore the ancient character of the Romannation, but it could check the progress of decay by burning away themore corrupted parts of it. It could destroy the aristocracy and theconstitution which they had depraved, and under other forms preserve fora few more centuries the Roman dominion. Scipio Africanus, when he heardin Spain of the end of his brother-in-law, exclaimed "May all who act ashe did perish like him!" There were to be victims enough and to sparebefore the bloody drama was played out. Quiet lasted for ten years, andthen, precisely when he had reached his brother's age, Caius Gracchuscame forward to avenge him, and carry the movement through anotherstage. Young Caius had been left one of the commissioners of the landlaw; and it is particularly noticeable that, though the author of it hadbeen killed, the law had survived him, being too clearly right andpolitic in itself to be openly set aside. For two years thecommissioners had continued to work, and in that time forty thousandfamilies were settled on various parts of the _ager publicus_, which thepatricians had been compelled to resign. This was all which they coulddo. The displacement of one set of inhabitants and the introduction ofanother could not be accomplished without quarrels, complaints, andperhaps some injustice. Those who entered on possession were not alwayssatisfied. The commissioners became unpopular. When the cries againstthem became loud enough, they were suspended, and the law was thenquietly repealed. The Senate had regained its hold over the Assembly, and had a further opportunity of showing its recovered ascendency when, two years after the murder of Tiberius Gracchus, one of his friendsintroduced a bill to make the tribunes legally re-eligible. CaiusGracchus actively supported the change, but it had no success; and, waiting till times had altered, and till he had arrived at an age whenhe could carry weight, the young brother retired from politics, andspent the next few years with the army in Africa and Sardinia, he servedwith distinction; he made a name for himself, both as a soldier and anadministrator. Had the Senate left him alone, he might have beensatisfied with a regular career, and have risen by the ordinary steps tothe consulship. But the Senate saw in him the possibilities of a secondTiberius; the higher his reputation, the more formidable he became tothem. They vexed him with petty prosecutions, charged him with crimeswhich had no existence, and at length, by suspicion and injustice, drovehim into open war with them. Caius Gracchus had a broader intellect thanhis brother, and a character considerably less noble. The land questionhe perceived was but one of many questions. The true source of thedisorders of the commonwealth was the Senate itself. The administrationof the empire was in the hands of men totally unfit to be trusted withit, and there he thought the reform must commence. He threw himself onthe people, he was chosen tribune in 123, ten years exactly afterTiberius. He had studied the disposition of parties. He had seen hisbrother fall because the Equites and the senators, the great commonersand the nobles, were combined against him. He revived the Agrarian lawas a matter of course, but he disarmed the opposition to it by throwingan apple of discord between the two superior orders. The high judicialfunctions in the commonwealth had been hitherto a senatorial monopoly. All cases of importance, civil or criminal, came before courts of sixtyor seventy jurymen, who, as the law stood, must be necessarily senators. The privilege had been extremely lucrative. The corruption of justicewas already notorious, though it had not yet reached the level of infamywhich it attained in another generation. It was no secret that inordinary causes jurymen had sold their verdicts, and, far short oftaking bribes in the direct sense of the word, there were many ways inwhich they could let themselves be approached, and their favorpurchased. A monopoly of privileges is always invidious. A monopoly inthe sale of justice is alike hateful to those who abhor iniquity onprinciple, and to those who would like to share the profits of it. Butthis was not the worst. The governors of the provinces, being chosenfrom those who had been consuls or prætors, were necessarily members ofthe Senate. Peculation and extortion in these high functions wereoffences, in theory, of the gravest kind; but the offender could only betried before a limited number of his peers, and a governor who hadplundered a subject state, sold justice, pillaged temples, and stolenall that he could lay hands on, was safe from punishment if he returnedto Rome a millionnaire and would admit others to a share in his spoils. The provincials might send deputations to complain, but these complaintscame before men who had themselves governed provinces, or else aspiredto govern them. It had been proved in too many instances that the lawwhich professed to protect them was a mere mockery. 

Caius Gracchus secured the affections of the knights to himself, andsome slightly increased chance of an improvement in the provincialadministration, by carrying a law in the Assembly disabling the senatorsfrom sitting on juries of any kind from that day forward, andtransferring the judicial functions to the Equites. How bitterly mustsuch a measure have been resented by the Senate, which at once robbedthem of their protective and profitable privileges, handed them over tobe tried by their rivals for their pleasant irregularities, and stampedthem at the same time with the brand of dishonesty! How certainly mustsuch a measure have been deserved when neither consul nor tribune couldbe found to interpose his vote! Supported by the grateful knights, CaiusGracchus was for the moment all-powerful. It was not enough to restorethe Agrarian law. He passed another aimed at his brother's murderers, which was to bear fruit in later years, that no Roman citizen might beput to death by any person, however high in authority, without legaltrial, and without appeal, if he chose to make it, to the sovereignpeople. A blow was thus struck against another right claimed by theSenate, of declaring the Republic in danger, and the temporarysuspension of the constitution. These measures might be excused, andperhaps commended; but the younger Gracchus connected his name withanother change less commendable, which was destined also to survive andbear fruit. He brought forward and carried through, with enthusiasticclapping of every pair of hands in Rome that were hardened with labor, aproposal that there should be public granaries in the city, maintainedand filled at the cost of the state, and that corn should be sold at arate artificially cheap to the poor free citizens. Such a law was purelysocialistic. The privilege was confined to Rome, because in Rome theelections were held, and the Roman constituency was the one depositaryof power. The effect was to gather into the city a mob of needyunemployed voters, living on the charity of the state, to crowd thecircus and to clamor at the elections, available no doubt immediately tostrengthen the hands of the popular tribune, but certain in the long runto sell themselves to those who could bid highest for their voices. Excuses could be found, no doubt, for this miserable expedient, in thestate of parties, in the unscrupulous violence of the aristocracy, inthe general impoverishment of the peasantry through the land monopoly, and in the intrusion upon Italy of a gigantic system of slave labor. Butnone the less it was the deadliest blow which had yet been dealt to theconstitution. Party government turns on the majorities at the pollingplaces, and it was difficult afterward to recall a privilege which, onceconceded, appeared to be a right. The utmost that could be ventured inlater times, with any prospect of success, was to limit an intolerableevil, and if one side was ever strong enough to make the attempt, theirrivals had a bribe ready in their hands to buy back the popular support. Caius Gracchus, however, had his way, and carried all before him. Heescaped the rock on which his brother had been wrecked. He was electedtribune a second time. He might have had a third term if he had beencontented to be a mere demagogue. But he, too, like Tiberius, hadhonorable aims. The powers which he had played into the hands of the mobto obtain, he desired to use for high purposes of statesmanship, and hisinstrument broke in his hands. He was too wise to suppose that a Romanmob, fed by bounties from the treasury, could permanently govern theworld. He had schemes for scattering Roman colonies, with the Romanfranchise, at various points of the empire. 

Carthage was to be one of them. He thought of abolishing the distinctionbetween Romans and Italians, and enfranchising the entire peninsula. These measures were good in themselves--essential, indeed, if the Romanconquests were to form a compact and permanent dominion. But the objectwas not attainable on the road on which Gracchus had entered. Thevagabond part of the constituency was well contented with what it hadobtained, a life in the city, supported at the public expense, withpolitics and games for its amusements. It had not the least inclinationto be drafted off into settlements in Spain or Africa, where there wouldbe work instead of pleasant idleness. Carthage was still a name ofterror. To restore Carthage was no better than treason. Still less hadthe Roman citizens an inclination to share their privileges withSamnites and Etruscans, and see the value of their votes watered down. Political storms are always cyclones. The gale from the east to-day is agale from the west to-morrow. Who and what were the Gracchi, then?--thesweet voices began to ask--ambitious intriguers, aiming at dictatorship, or perhaps the crown. The aristocracy were right, after all; a fewthings had gone wrong, but these had been amended. The Scipios andMetelli had conquered the world: the Scipios and Metelli were alone fitto govern it. Thus, when the election time came round, the party ofreform was reduced to a minority of irreconcilable radicals, who wereeasily disposed of. Again, as ten years before, the noble lords armedtheir followers. Riots broke out and extended day after day. CaiusGracchus was at last killed, as his brother had been, and under cover ofthe disturbance three thousand of his friends were killed along withhim. The power being again securely in their hands, the Senate proceededat their leisure, and the surviving patriots who were in any waynotorious or dangerous were hunted down in legal manner, and put todeath or banished. 

ZENOBIA, QUEEN OF PALMYRA

By ANNA JAMESON

(REIGNED 267-273 A. D. )

[Illustration: Zenobia. ]

Of the government and manners of the Arabians before the time ofMahomet, we have few and imperfect accounts; but from the remotest agesthey led the same unsettled and predatory life which they do at thisday, dispersed in hordes, and dwelling under tents. It was not to thosewild and wandering tribes that the superb Palmyra owed its rise andgrandeur, though situated in the midst of their deserts, where it is nowbeheld in its melancholy beauty and ruined splendor, like an enchantedisland in the midst of an ocean of sands. The merchants who traffickedbetween India and Europe, by the only route then known, first colonizedthis singular spot, which afforded them a convenient resting-place; andeven in the days of Solomon it was the emporium for the gems and gold, the ivory, gums, spices, and silks of the far Eastern countries, whichthus found their way to the remotest parts of Europe. The Palmyreneswere, therefore, a mixed race--their origin, and many of their customs, were Egyptian; their love of luxury and their manners were derived fromPersia; their language, literature, and architecture were Greek. 

Thus, like Venice and Genoa, in more modern times, Palmyra owed itssplendor to the opulence and public spirit of its merchants; but itschief fame and historical interest it owes to the genius and heroism ofa woman. 

[Illustration: Zenobia Captive. ]

Septimia Zenobia, for such is her classical appellation, was thedaughter of an Arab chief, Amrou, the son of Dharb, the son of Hassan. Of her first husband we have no account; she was left a widow at avery early age, and married, secondly, Odenathus, chief of severaltribes of the desert, near Palmyra, and a prince of extraordinary valorand boundless ambition. Odenathus was the ally of the Romans in theirwars against Sapor (or, more properly, Shah Poor), king of Persia; hegained several splendid victories over that powerful monarch, and twicepursued his armies even to the gates of Ctesiphon (or Ispahan), hiscapital. Odenathus was as fond of the chase as of war, and in all hismilitary and hunting expeditions he was accompanied by his wifeZenobia--a circumstance which the Roman historians record withastonishment and admiration, as contrary to their manners, but which wasthe general custom of the Arab women of that time. Zenobia not onlyexcelled her countrywomen in the qualities for which they were allremarkable--in courage, prudence, and fortitude, in patience of fatigue, and activity of mind and body--she also possessed a more enlargedunderstanding; her views were more enlightened, her habits moreintellectual. The successes of Odenathus were partly attributed to her, and they were always considered as reigning jointly. She was alsoeminently beautiful--with the oriental eyes and complexion, teeth likepearls, and a voice of uncommon power and sweetness. 

Odenathus obtained from the Romans the title of Augustus, and General ofthe East; he revenged the fate of Valerian, who had been taken captiveand put to death by Shah Poor: the eastern king, with a luxuriousbarbarity truly oriental, is said to have used the unfortunate emperoras his footstool to mount his horse. But in the midst of his victoriesand conquests Odenathus became the victim of a domestic conspiracy, atthe head of which was his nephew Mæonius. He was assassinated at Emessaduring a hunting expedition, and with him his son by his first marriage. Zenobia avenged the death of her husband on his murderers, and as hersons were yet in their infancy, she first exercised the supreme power intheir name; but afterward, apparently with the consent of the people, assumed the diadem with the titles of Augusta and Queen of the East. 

The Romans, and their effeminate emperor Gallienus, refused toacknowledge Zenobia's claim to the sovereignty of her husband'sdominions, and Heraclianus was sent with a large army to reduce her toobedience; but Zenobia took the field against him, engaged and totallydefeated him in a pitched battle. Not satisfied with this triumph overthe haughty masters of the world, she sent her general Zabdas to attackthem in Egypt, which she subdued and added to her territories, togetherwith a part of Armenia and Asia Minor. Thus her dominions extended fromthe Euphrates to the Mediterranean, and over all those vast and fertilecountries formerly governed by Ptolemy and Seleucus. Jerusalem, Antioch, Damascus, and other cities famed in history, were included in herempire, but she fixed her residence at Palmyra, and in an interval ofpeace she turned her attention to the further adornment of hermagnificent capital. It is related by historians, that many of thosestupendous fabrics of which the mighty ruins are still existing, wereeither erected, or at least restored and embellished, by thisextraordinary woman. But that which we have most difficulty inreconciling with the manners of her age and country, was Zenobia'spassion for study, and her taste for the Greek and Latin literature. She is said to have drawn up an epitome of history for her own use; theGreek historians, poets, and philosophers were familiar to her; sheinvited Longinus, one of the most elegant writers of antiquity, to hersplendid court, and appointed him her secretary and minister. For her hecomposed his famous "Treatise on the Sublime, " a work which is not onlyadmirable for its intrinsic excellence, but most valuable as havingpreserved to our times many beautiful fragments of ancient poets whoseworks are now lost, particularly those of Sappho. 

The classical studies of Zenobia seem to have inspired her with somecontempt for her Arab ancestry. She was fond of deriving her origin fromthe Macedonian kings of Egypt, and of reckoning Cleopatra among herprogenitors. In imitation of the famous Egyptian queen, she affectedgreat splendor in her style of living and in her attire; and drank herwine out of cups of gold richly carved and adorned with gems. It is, however, admitted that in female dignity and discretion, as well as inbeauty, she far surpassed Cleopatra. She administered the government ofher empire with such admirable prudence and policy, and in particularwith such strict justice toward all classes of her subjects, that shewas beloved by her own people, and respected and feared by theneighboring nations. She paid great attention to the education of herthree sons, habited them in the Roman purple, and brought them up in theRoman fashion. But this predilection for the Greek and Roman mannersappears to have displeased and alienated the Arab tribes; for it isremarked that after this time their fleet cavalry, inured to the desertsand unequalled as horsemen, no longer formed the strength of her army. 

While Gallienus and Claudius governed the Roman empire, Zenobia wasallowed to pursue her conquests, rule her dominions, and enjoy hertriumphs almost without opposition; but at length the fierce and activeAurelian was raised to the purple, and he was indignant that a womanshould thus brave with impunity the offended majesty of Rome. Havingsubdued all his competitors in the West, he turned his arms against theQueen of the East. Zenobia, undismayed by the terrors of the Roman name, levied troops, placed herself at their head, and gave the second commandto Zabdas, a brave, and hitherto successful, general. The first greatbattle took place near Antioch; Zenobia was totally defeated after anobstinate conflict; but, not disheartened by this reverse, she retiredupon Emessa, rallied her armies, and once more defied the Roman emperor. Being again defeated with great loss, and her army nearly dispersed, thehigh-spirited queen withdrew to Palmyra, collected her friends aroundher, strengthened her fortifications, and declared her resolution todefend her capital and her freedom to the last moment of her existence. 

Zenobia was conscious of the great difficulties which would attend thesiege of a great city, well stored with provisions and naturallydefended by surrounding deserts; these deserts were infested by cloudsof Arabs, who, appearing and disappearing with the swiftness andsuddenness of a whirlwind, continually harassed her enemies. Thusdefended without, and supported by a strong garrison within, Zenobiabraved her antagonist from the towers of Palmyra as boldly as she haddefied him in the field of battle. The expectation of succors from theEast added to her courage, and determined her to persevere to the last. "Those, " said Aurelian in one of his letters, "who speak with contemptof the war I am waging against a woman, are ignorant both of thecharacter and power of Zenobia. It is impossible to enumerate herwarlike preparations of stones, of arrows, and of every species ofmissile weapons and military engines. "

Aurelian, in fact, became doubtful of the event of the siege, and heoffered the queen the most honorable terms of capitulation if she wouldsurrender to his arms; but Zenobia, who was aware that famine raged inthe Roman camp, and daily looked for the expected relief, rejected hisproposals in a famous Greek epistle, written with equal arrogance andeloquence; she defied the utmost of his power; and, alluding to the fateof Cleopatra, expressed her resolution to die like her rather than yieldto the Roman arms. Aurelian was incensed by this haughty letter, evenmore than by dangers and delays attending the siege; he redoubled hisefforts, he cut off the succors she expected; he found means to subsisthis troops even in the midst of the desert; every day added to thenumber and strength of his army, every day increased the difficulties ofZenobia, and the despair of the Palmyrenes. The city could not hold outmuch longer, and the queen resolved to fly, not to insure her ownsafety, but to bring relief to her capital--such at least is the excusemade for a part of her conduct which certainly requires apology. Mountedon a fleet dromedary, she contrived to elude the vigilance of thebesiegers, and took the road to the Euphrates; but she was pursued by aparty of the Roman light cavalry, overtaken, and brought as a captiveinto the presence of Aurelian. He sternly demanded how she had dared tooppose the power of Rome? to which she replied, with a mixture offirmness and gentleness, "Because I disdained to acknowledge as mymasters such men as Aureolus and Gallienus. To Aurelian I submit as myconqueror and my sovereign. " Aurelian was not displeased at the artfulcompliment implied in this answer, but he had not forgotten theinsulting arrogance of her former reply. While this conference was goingforward in the tent of the Roman emperor, the troops, who were enragedby her long and obstinate resistance, and all they had suffered duringthe siege, assembled in tumultuous bands calling out for vengeance, andwith loud and fierce cries demanding her instant death. The unhappyqueen, surrounded by the ferocious and insolent soldiery, forgot all herformer vaunts and intrepidity; her feminine terrors had perhaps beenexcusable if they had not rendered her base; but in her first panic shethrew herself on the mercy of the emperor, accused her ministers as thecause of her determined resistance, and confessed that Longinus hadwritten in her name that eloquent letter of defiance which had soincensed the emperor. 

Longinus, with the rest of her immediate friends and counsellors, wereinstantly sacrificed to the fury of the soldiers, and the philosophermet death with all the fortitude which became a wise and great man, employing his last moments in endeavoring to console Zenobia andreconcile her to her fate. 

Palmyra surrendered to the conqueror, who seized upon the treasures ofthe city, but spared the buildings and the lives of the inhabitants. Leaving in the place a garrison of Romans, he returned to Europe, carrying with him Zenobia and her family, who were destined to grace histriumph. 

But scarcely had Aurelian reached the Hellespont, when tidings werebrought to him that the inhabitants of Palmyra had again revolted, andhad put the Roman governor and garrison to the sword. Without a moment'sdeliberation the emperor turned back, reached Palmyra by rapid marches, and took a terrible vengeance on that miserable and devoted city; hecommanded the indiscriminate massacre of all the inhabitants--men, women, and children; fired its magnificent edifices, and levelled itswalls to the ground. He afterward repented of his fury, and devoted apart of the captured treasures to reinstate some of the glories he haddestroyed; but it was too late; he could not reanimate the dead, norraise from its ruins the stupendous Temple of the Sun. Palmyra becamedesolate; its very existence was forgotten, until about a century ago, when some English travellers discovered it by accident. Thus the blindfury of one man extinguished life, happiness, industry, art, andintelligence through a vast extent of country, and severed a link whichhad long connected the eastern and western continents of the old world. 

When Aurelian returned to Rome after the termination of this war, hecelebrated his triumph with extraordinary pomp. A vast number ofelephants and tigers, and strange beasts from the conquered countries;sixteen hundred gladiators, an innumerable train of captives, and agorgeous display of treasures--gold, silver, gems, plate, glitteringraiment, and Oriental luxuries and rarities, the rich plunder ofPalmyra, were exhibited to the populace. But every eye was fixed on thebeautiful and majestic figure of the Syrian queen, who walked in theprocession before her own sumptuous chariot, attired in her diadem androyal robes, blazing with jewels, her eyes fixed on the ground, and herdelicate form drooping under the weight of her golden fetters, whichwere so heavy that two slaves were obliged to assist in supporting themon either side; while the Roman populace, at that time the most brutaland degraded in the whole world, gaped and stared upon her misery, andshouted in exultation over her fall. Perhaps Zenobia may in that momenthave thought upon Cleopatra, whose example she had once proposed tofollow; and, according to the pagan ideas of greatness and fortitude, envied her destiny, and felt her own ignominy with all the bitterness ofa vain repentance. 

The captivity of Zenobia took place in the year 273, and in the fifthyear of her reign. There are two accounts of her subsequent fate, differing widely from each other. One author asserts that she starvedherself to death, refusing to survive her own disgrace and the ruin ofher country; but others inform us that the Emperor Aurelian bestowed onher a superb villa at Tivoli, where she resided in great honor; and thatshe was afterward united to a Roman senator, with whom she lived manyyears, and died at a good old age. Her daughters married into Romanfamilies, and it is said that some of her descendants remained so lateas the fifth century. 

SIEGFRIED[3]

 [Footnote 3: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By KARL BLIND

(ABOUT 450)

[Illustration: Siegfried. ]

Siegfried is the name of the mythic national hero of the Germans, whosetragic fate is most powerfully described in the "Nibelungen Lied, " andin a series of lays of the Icelandic Edda. A matchless warrior, aDragon-killer and overthrower of Giants, who possesses a magic sword, heconquers the northern Nibelungs and acquires their famed gold hoard. Inthe great German epic he is the son of Siegmund and Siegelinde, who rulein the Netherlands. Going Rhine-upward to Worms, to Gunther, the King ofthe Burgundians, he woos and wins Kriemhild, the beautiful sister ofthat king, after having first helped Gunther to gain the hand ofBrünhild, a queen beyond sea, in Iceland. No one could obtain thatvaliant virgin's consent to wedlock unless he proved a victor over herin athletic feats, and in trials of battle. By means of his own colossalstrength and his hiding hood, Siegfried, standing invisibly at the sideof Gunther, overcomes Brünhild. Even after the marriage has beencelebrated at Worms, Siegfried has once more to help the Burgundian kingin the same hidden way, in order to vanquish Brünhild's resistance tothe accomplishment of the marriage. When, in later times, Kriemhild andBrünhild fall out in a quarrel about their husbands' respective worth, the secret of such stealthy aid having been given, is let out by theformer in a manner affecting the honor of the Burgundian queen as awife. Thereupon Hagen promises her to effect a revenge. Having deftlyascertained from Kriemhild the single vulnerable part of the hero, whoseskin had otherwise been made impenetrable by being dipped into theDragon's blood, Hagen treacherously murders Siegfried at a chase. Thegold hoard is then sunk in the Rhine by Hagen, lest Kriemhild should useit as a means of bribing men for wreaking her own revenge. She afterwardbecomes the consort of Etzel, the heathen king of the Hiunes (Hunns) inHungary, who resides at Vienna. Thither she allures the Burgundians, Hagen alone mistrusting the invitation. In Etzel's eastern land all theBurgundian knights, upon whom the Nibelung name had been conferred, suffer a terrible death through Kriemhild's wrath. Hagen, who refuses tothe end to reveal to her the whereabouts of the sunken gold hoard, hashis head cut off with Siegfried's sword by the infuriated queen herself. At last, she, too, is hewn down by the indignant, doughty warrior, Hildebrand; and so the lofty Hall, into which fire had been thrown, isall strewn over with the dead. "Here, " says the poem, "has the tale anend. These were the sorrows of the Nibelungs. "

In this "Iliad of the Germans, " which dates from the end of the twelfthcentury, the Siegfried story is given as a finished epic. But itsoriginally heathen Teutonic character is overlaid there with admixturesof Christian chivalry. In the Edda and other Scandinavian sources, thetale appears in fragmentary and lyrical shape, but in a purer version, without additions from the new faith or from mediæval chivalry. It is inthe Sigurd-, Fafnir-, Brynhild-, Gudrun-, Oddrun-, Atli-, and HamdirLays of the Norse Scripture that the original nature of the older Germansongs, which must have preceded the epic, can best be guessed. Rhapsodiclays, referring to Siegfried, were, in all probability, part of thecollection which Karl the Great, the Frankish Kaiser, ordered to bemade. Monkish fanaticism afterward destroyed the valuable relics. Fortunately, Northmen travelling in Germany had gathered some of thosetale-treasures, which then were treated by Scandinavian and Icelandicbards in the form of heroic lyrics. Hence the Eddic lays in questionform now a link between our lost Siegfried "Lieder" and our nationalepic. 

Even as in the "Nibelungen Lied" so also in the "Edda, " Sigurd(abbreviation for Siegfried) is not a Scandinavian, but a Southern, aRhenish, a German hero. The whole scene of the tragic events is laid inthe Rhinelands, where the killing of the Worm also takes place. On ahill in Frank-land Sigurd frees Brynhild from the magic slumber intowhich Odin had thrown her on a rock of punishment, because she, as aValkyr, or shield-maiden of his, had brought about the death of a Gothicking to whom the god of battle had promised victory. In the south, onthe Rhine, Sigurd is murdered. In the Rhine, Högni (Hagen) hides theNibelung treasure. Many German tribes--Franks, Saxons, Burgundians, Goths, even a Svava-land, or Suabian land, are mentioned in the "Edda. "The "Drama of Revenge, " after Sigurd's death, though motives of the actsomewhat different from those stated in the "Nibelungen Lied" areassigned, is also localized on the Lower Rhine, in the Hall of Atli, theKing of the Hunes. In the "Nibelungen Lied, " that name appears as Etzel(Attila), King of the Hunns. 

In the "Edda" and in the "Vilkina Saga, " Germans are referred to assources for some details of the Sigurd story. So strong was, inScandinavia, the tradition of the Teutonic origin of the tale, down tothe twelfth century, that, in a geographical work written in Norse bythe Abbot Nicolaus, the Gnita Heath, where Sigurd was said to havekilled the Dragon, was still placed half-way between Paderborn andMainz. Thus it was from Germany that this grand saga spread all over theNorth, including the Faröer. In the "Hvenic Chronicle, " in Danish songs, we even find Siegfried as "Sigfred;" Kriemhild as "Gremild;" and she ismarried to him at Worms, as in the "Nibelungen Lied, " while in the"Edda" Sigurd's wife is called Gudrun, and the remembrance of Worms islost. The scene of the Norse poems is wholly on Rhenish ground. 

[Illustration: Siegfried slaying the Dragon. ]

Now, in that neighborhood, in the northwest of Germany, a Teutonic tribeonce dwelt, called Hunes, which is also traceable in Scandinavia. Sigurdhimself is, in the "Edda, " described as a Hunic king. His kith andkin dwell in Huna-land. "Hune" probably meant a bold and powerfulwarrior. The word still lingers in Germany in various ways; giganticgrave-monuments of prehistoric times are called Hunic Graves or"Hünen-Betten, " and a tall, strong man a "Hüne. " In his "Church History"the Anglo-Saxon monk Baeda, or Bede, when speaking of the various Germantribes which had made Britain into an Angle-land, or England, mentionsthe Hunes. In the Anglo-Saxon "Wanderer's Tale" they also turn up, apparently in connection with a chieftain Aetla; that is, Atli. InFriesland, the Hunsing tribe long preserved the Hunic name. The wordoccurs in many personal and place names both in Germany and in England;for instance: Hunolt (a Rhenish hero), Hunferd, Hunlaf, Hunbrecht(champions among Frisians and Rhinelanders in the "Beowulf" epic);Huneboldt (bold like a Hune); Ethelhun (noble Hune); then there are, inGerman geography, the Hunsrück Mountain; Hunoldstein, Hunenborn, Hunnesrück, near Hildesheim, etc. Again, in England: Hundon, Hunworth, Hunstanton, Huncote, Hunslet, Hunswick, and many other places from Kentand Suffolk up to Lancashire and Shetland, where certainly no MongolicHunns ever penetrated. The Hunic Atli name is also to be found onEnglish soil, in Attlebridge and Attleborough. 

After the Great Migrations the various tribes and races became muchintermixed. It was by a misunderstanding which arose then between theGerman Hunes and the Hunns under Attila's leadership, that Kriemhild'srevenge after the murder of Siegfried was poetically transferred fromthe Rhine to the Danube. The name of the Rhenish Atli, which ispreserved in the "Edda, " and which also occurs as a German chieftain'sname on the soil of conquered Britain, easily served to facilitate theconfusion. Even the composition of Attila's army lent itself to thistransplantation of the second part of the Siegfried story to Danubianlands. For, though Attila was overthrown on the Catalaunian fields, mainly by Germanic hosts, to which Roman and Gallic troops were added, he had a great many Teutonic warriors in his own army. From thismilitary intermingling of races so utterly dissimilar in blood andspeech as the Hunns and the Germans, one of whose tribes were calledHunes, it is not difficult to conceive the shifting of the tragic issueof the Nibelung story to the East. Attila, the Hunn, slid into theprevious Teutonic hero-figure of Atli, the Hune. This change will themore easily be understood when the deep impression is remembered whichthe terrible Mongolic war-leader had made on the popular mind insouthern Germany, where the Nibelungen epic was cast into its presentshape. 

The hold which the Siegfried story has had on the German people, throughages, can be gathered from the fact of its having kept its place, downto our days, in the workman's house and the peasant's hut, first by oraltradition, and then by rudely printed and illustrated chap-books ("DieGeschichte vom hürnenen Siegfried"). In this "Volksbuch" there areremarkable details concerning the hero's early life in a smithy and theprophecy of his assassination, which are lost in the "Nibelungen Lied, "but preserved in the "Edda. " This circumstance--overlooked even bySimrock, who, like Jacob Grimm, has done much to show the German originof the Norse Sigurd saga--is another curious bit of evidence of theundeniable Teutonic source of the corresponding Scandinavian andIcelandic stories and poems. 

Many attempts have been made to get at the historical kernel of thetale. Some would see in it traces of the songs which, according toTacitus, were sung, of old, in honor of Armin (usually, thoughmistakenly, called Hermann), the deliverer of Germany from the Romanyoke. It has been assumed that the contents of these songs were combinedwith traditions of the deeds of Civilis, the leader of the BatavianGermans against Roman dominion, as well as of the conquest of Britain byHengest. Recently, the Norse scholar, Gudbrand Vigfússon, has once morestarted this "Armin" interpretation of the tale, under the impressionthat he was the first to do so; whereas, in Germany, Mone andGiesebrecht had worked out that idea already some sixty years ago. Inorder to support his theory, Vigfússon boldly proposed to change theHunic name of Sigurd, in the Eddic text, into "Cheruskian. " He imaginedthe former name to be absurd, because Siegfried was not a Hunn; butVigfússon was unacquainted with the wide historical distribution of theHunic name in Germany and England. 

Others saw in the Siegfried story an echo of the overthrow of theBurgundian king Gundahari (Gunther), by Attila, on the Rhine. Gundahari, who first threw himself with an army of 20, 000 men against the Hunnicleader, gloriously fell with all his men. In the same way, in the"Nibelungen Lied, " the Burgundian king, Gunther, is killed, with all hismen, in the land of Etzel, the ruler of the Hiunes. Again, others havepointed to the feats of Theodorick, the king of the Eastern Goths; or tothe fate of Siegbert, the king of the Austrasian Franks, who wasmurdered at the instigation of Fredegunda; or to the powerful Frankishfamily of the Pipins, from whom Karl the Great hailed, by way of tryingto explain some parts of the Siegfried story. With the Pipins of"Nivella, " we come upon a word in consonance with "Nibelung. "

Then the wars which the Frankish Kaiser Karl waged against the Saxons ofWitukind, have been held to be indicated in the war which the FrankishSiegfried, in the "Nibelungen Lied, " wages against the Saxons. To allappearance, however, the tale is a mixture of mythological andhistorical traditions. In the Middle Ages, and still much later, Siegfried was looked upon as an undoubtedly historical figure. Hispraise was sung through all Germany. His very tomb, one of his weapons, as well as his carved image, were shown under the name of Siegfried'sgrave, Siegfried's spear, and Siegfried's statue. So persistent was thisbelief that when, in the fifteenth century, Kaiser Frederick III. Cameto Worms, he had the alleged grave of "that second Hector and powerfulgiant" opened, to see whether his bones could be found. Only a head anda few bones were dug up, "larger than men's heads and bones usuallyare. " At Worms, the Siegfried story was pictured, in ancient times, inthe Town Hall and on the Mint. All round Worms, place-names connectedwith the Nibelung tale occur with remarkable frequency. If the lostrhapsodic songs could be recovered, both mythological and historicalallusions would, in all likelihood, be found in them. 

An eminently Frankish tale, the Nibelungen cycle, has arisen in thatmartial German tribe which once held sway in the greater part of Europe. In its origin, the tale is considered by many careful investigators--soalso by Richard Wagner, who founded his famous music-drama on it--tohave been a Nature myth, upon which real events became engrafted. Fromthis point of view, the earliest meaning of Siegfried's victory over theDragon would signify the triumph of the God of Light over the monster ofthe chaotic aboriginal Night. It would be, on German ground, theoverthrow of Python by Apollon. In this connection it is to be pointedout that Sigurd appears in the "Edda" as the hero "with the shiningeyes, " and that, in one of the German Rose Garden tales, twelve swordsare attributed to him--a description which might be referred to thezodiac and to sunshine; so that he would be a solar hero. And even asDay is, in its turn, vanquished by Night; as Summer must yield toWinter; so also Siegfried falls in the end. The god which he originallywas thus becomes human; the sad fate of so noble a champion gives riseto feelings of revenge for what is held to be an evil and criminal deed;and a tragedy is constructed, in which generations appear as actors andvictims. 

A special feature of the Frankish myth is the hoard, the fatal treasurewhich works never-ending mischief. It is said to represent the metalveins of the subterranean Region of Gloom. There, as is stated in anEddic record, Dark Elves (Nibelungs, or nebulous Sons of the Night) aredigging and working, melting and forging the ore in their smithies, producing charmful rings that remind us of the diadems which bind thebrows of rulers; golden ornaments and sharp weapons; all of which confergreat power upon their owner. When Siegfried slays the Dragon, whenLight overcomes Darkness, this hoard is his booty, and he becomes masterof the Nibelungs. But the Dragon's dark heir ever seeks to regain itfrom the victor; so Night malignantly murders the Day; Hagen killsSiegfried. The treasure on which Siegfried's power is founded becomesthe cause of his death; and through Death he himself, albeit originallya refulgent God of Light, is turned into a figure of gloom; that is, aNibelung. 

There is much in the Norse Skalds which seems to support thismythological aspect of the tale. The name of Siegfried's murderer, Hagen--who is one-eyed, even as Hödur, the God of Night, who killsBaldur, the God of Light, is blind--has also been adduced for thisinterpretation. Hagen is explained as the Thorn of Death, the hawthorn(German Hagedorn), with which men are stung into eternal sleep, orrather into a death-like trance. Odin stings Brynhild into her trancewith a sleeping-thorn. Hagen, in the sense of death, still lingers inthe German expression, "Friend Hain, " as a euphemism for the figurewhich announces that one's hour has come. The hawthorn was the specialwood used for fire-burial in Germany; hence the figurative poeticalexpression which would make Hagen a synonym for death. 

In the German and Norse poems, as we possess them now, myth andapparently historical facts are inextricably welded together. Apowerful representation of the Siegfried tale is given in the series oflarge pictures, at Munich, by the distinguished painter Schnorr vonKarolsfeld. 

[Signature: Karl Blind. ]

KING ARTHUR

By Rev. S. BARING-GOULD

(About 520)

[Illustration: King Arthur. ]

Arthur, king of the Siluri, or Dumnonii--British races driven back intothe west of England by the Saxons--is represented as having united theBritish tribes in resisting the pagan invaders, and as having been thechampion not only of his people but also of Christianity. He is said tohave lived in the sixth century, and to have maintained a stubborncontest against the Saxon Cerdic, but the "Saxon Chronicle" issuspiciously silent as to his warfare and as to his existence. Indeed, the Welsh bards of the earliest period do not assert that he was acontemporary, and it is more than doubtful whether he is an historicpersonage. It is worthy of remark that the fame of Arthur is widelyspread; he is claimed alike as a prince in Brittany, Cornwall, Wales, Cumberland, and the lowlands of Scotland; that is to say, his fame isconterminous with the Brithonic race, and does not extend to the Goidelsor Gaels. As is now well known, Great Britain was twice invaded by racesof Celtic blood and tongue; the first wave was that of the Goidels, andafter a lapse of some considerable time a second Celtic wave, that ofthe Brithons, or Britons, from the east, overran Britain, and drove theGaels to west and north. Finn and Ossian belong to the mythic heroiccycle of the Gaels, and Arthur and Merlin to that of the Britons. Theseseveral shadowy forms are probably deities shorn of their divinity andgiven historic attributes and position, much as, among the Norsemen, Odin, when he ceased to be regarded as the All-father, or God, came tobe reckoned as an ancestor of the kings. 

In the lays of the Welsh bards, supposed to be as early as the sixth andseventh centuries (although no MS. Is extant of older date than thetwelfth century), Arthur and his brave companions are celebrated, butmodestly and without marvels. It is possible that there may have existedin the sixth century a prince bearing the already well-known heroicname; and if so, about him the myths belonging to the remote ancestor orgod have crystallized. The legendary additions begin to gather in thehistory of the Britons by Nennius, a writer supposed to have lived atthe beginning of the seventh century; but Mr. Thomas Wright has shown("Biographia Literaria, " Saxon period) that his history is a forgery ofa much later date, probably of the tenth century. Mr. Skene, however("The Four Ancient Books of Wales"), makes fight to give Arthur anhistoric place, and we do not deny that there may have been a prince ofthat name. Next in order come the so-called Armoric collections ofWalter, Archdeacon of Oxford (latter part of eleventh century), fromwhich Geoffrey of Monmouth professes to translate, and in which themarvellous and supernatural elements largely prevail. Here for the firsttime the magician Merlin comes into association with Arthur. Accordingto Geoffrey, Arthur's father, Uther, conceiving a passion for Igerna, wife of Gorlois, Duke of Cornwall, is changed by Merlin into thelikeness of Gorlois, and Arthur is the result. After his father's deathArthur becomes paramount leader of the British, and makes victoriousexpeditions to Scotland, Ireland, Denmark, Norway, and also to France, where he defeats a great Roman army. During his absence his nephew, Modred, revolts, and seduces Prince Arthur's wife, Gweniver(Gwenhwywar). Arthur returning, falls in a battle with his nephew, andis carried to the Isle of Avalon to be cured of his wounds. Geoffrey'swork apparently gave birth to a multitude of fictions, which came to beconsidered as quasi-historical traditions. From these, exaggerated byeach succeeding age, and recast by each narrator, sprung the famousmetrical romances of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, first inFrench and afterward in English, from which modern notions of Arthur arederived. In these his habitual residence is at Caerlon, on the Usk, inWales, where, with his beautiful wife, Guinevere, he lives in splendidstate, surrounded by hundreds of knights and beautiful ladies, who serveas patterns of valor, breeding, and grace to all the world. Twelveknights, the bravest of the throng, form the centre of this retinue, andsit with the king at a round table, the "Knights of the Round Table. "From the court of King Arthur knights go forth to all countries insearch of adventure--to protect women, chastise oppressors, liberate theenchanted, enchain giants and malicious dwarfs, is their knightlymission. 

The earliest legends of Arthur's exploits are to be found in the bardiclays attributed to the sixth and seventh centuries ("Myoyrian Archæologyof Wales, " 1801). A Welsh collection of stories called the "Mabinogion, "of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and translated into Englishby Lady Charlotte Guest in 1849, gives further Arthurian legends. Someof the stories "have the character of chivalric romances, " and aretherefore probably of French origin; while others "bear the impress of afar higher antiquity, both as regards the manners they depict and thestyle of language in which they are composed. " These latter rarelymention Arthur, but the former belong, as Mr. Skene puts it, to the"full-blown Arthurian romance. " Chrétien de Troies, the most famous ofthe old French trouvères in the latter part of the twelfth century, madethe Arthur legend the subject for his "Romans" and "Contes, " as well asfor two epics on Tristan; the Holy Grail, Peredur, etc. , belonging tothe same cycle. Early in the same century the Arthurian metrical romancebecame known in Germany, and there assumed a more animated and artisticform in the "Parzival" of Wolfram of Eschenbach, "Tristan und Isolt" ofGottfried of Strasburg, "Erec and Iwein" of Hartmann, and "Wigalois" ofWirnt. The most renowned of the heroes of the Arthurian school arePeredur (Parzival or Perceval), Tristan or Tristram, Iwein, Erec, Gawein, Wigalois, Wigamur, Gauriel, and Lancelot. From France theArthurian romance spread also to Spain, Provence, Italy, and theNetherlands, even into Iceland, and was again transplanted into England. One of the publications that issued from the press of Caxton (1485) wasa collection of stories by Sir Thomas Malory, either compiled by him inEnglish, from various of the later French prose romances, or translateddirectly from an already existing French compendium. Copland reprintedthe work in 1557, and in 1634 the last of the black-letter editionsappeared. A reprint of Caxton's "Kynge Arthur, " with an introduction andnotes by Robert Southey, was issued in 1817--"The Byrth, Lyfe, and Actesof Kyng Arthur. " The most complete edition is that by Thomas Wright, from the text of 1634. 

The name of King Arthur was given during the Middle Ages to many placesand monuments supposed to have been in some way associated with hisexploits, such as "Arthur's Seat, " near Edinburgh, "Arthur's Oven, " onthe Carron, near Falkirk, etc. What was called the sepulchre of hisqueen was shown at Meigle, in Strathmore, in the sixteenth century. NearBoscastle, in Cornwall, is Pentargain, a headland called after him"Arthur's Head. " Other localities take his name in Brittany. In theMiddle Ages, in Germany, Arthur's Courts were buildings in which thepatricians assembled. One such still remains at Danzig. There was oneanciently at Thorn, about which a ballad and legend exist. Milton wasmeditating an Arthurian epic in 1639; and in our own day the interest ofthe legends about King Arthur and his knights has been revived byTennyson's "Idylls of the King" and some of Wagner's operas. We must notomit to note the magnificent life-sized ideal bronze figure of Arthur, cast for the monument of Maximilian I. , now in the Franciscan church atInnsbruck, and regarded as the finest among the series of heroes thererepresented. 

[Illustration: The Ruins of King Arthur's Castle. ]

ROLAND

(740-778)

 "O, for a blast of that dread horn, On Fontarabian echoes borne That to King Charles did come, When Rowland brave, and Olivier, And every paladin and peer On Roncesvalles died!"--_Marmion. _

 "When Charlemain with all his peerage fell, By Fontarabbia. "--_Paradise Lost. _

[Illustration: Roland. ]

"A Roland for an Oliver!" Saving the passing reference by Scott andMilton, quoted above, Roland and Olivier are almost unknown to Englishreaders, and yet their once familiar names, knit together for centuries, have passed into a proverb, to be remembered as we remember thefriendship of David and Jonathan, or to be classed by the scholar withPylades, and Orestes of classic story, or with Amys and Amylion ofromance. 

The "Song of Roland" might be called the national epic of France. Itcorresponds to the "Mort d'Arthur" of England, the "Cid Chronicles" ofSpain, the "Nibelungen Lied" of Germany, and the Longobardian legends ofNorth Italy. Italian mediæval literature is rich in the Roland romances, founded on the fabulous "Chronicle of John Turpin" and the "Chansons deGestes, " of which the "Song of Roland" is one. Of the Italian romancesthe "Morgante Maggiore" of Pulci was published as early as 1488, Boyardo's "Orlando Innamorata" in 1496, and Ariosto's "Orlando Furioso"in 1515. English versions of Boyardo and Ariosto have since beentranslated into the rhyming couplets of Hoole, and as late as 1831 intothe _ottava rima_ stanzas of W. S. Rose. It was not, however, tillApril, 1880, that a full English translation of the original "Song ofRoland, " from MSS. Written in the old _langue d'oil_ of Northern France, was published by Kegan, Paul & Co. , from the pen of Mr. O'Hagan, Q. C. , of Dublin. Most probably it was a curtailed version of this romance thatis referred to by Wace in his "Roman le Rou, " when he records how, asthe Normans marched to Senlac Hill, in 1066, the minstrel Taillefersang, "Of Roland and the heroes all Who fell at fatal Roncesvall. "

Turning to the historical data on which the romance is based, it will befound that in the year 778 A. D. Charlemagne, accompanied by his nephew, Count Roland of Bretagne, and the flower of Frankish chivalry, made araid across the Spanish border. Abdalrahman, the first of the greatSpanish caliphs of Cordova, was engaged in putting down the rebelliouschiefs who had refused to own their allegiance to the new caliphate. Thefrontier was therefore comparatively unprotected. The SpanishChristians, who maintained a precarious independence among the Asturiasand Pyrenees, and who found it the wisest policy to be at peace with theMohammedan rulers, were not strong enough to resist Charlemagne. Accordingly the Franks advanced nearly to Saragossa. On returning toFrance laden with spoil through the winding defile of Roncesvalles (thevalley of thorns or briers), their rear-guard was cut off by a band ofBasques or Gascons and Spanish-Arabians, and their leader, Roland, slain. To the presence of these Spanish Christians in the Moorish armymust be attributed the origin of the many Spanish ballads on thevictory, in which all the glory is due to the prowess of the nationalhero, Bernardo Del Carpio, "the doughtiest lance in Spain. " It iscurious also to note, on the other hand, that the Arabians themselves intheir chronicles, translated by the Spanish historian Condé, make littleof this victory, merely mentioning the fact. The Saracen King Marsil, orMarsilius, of Saragossa, so often referred to in this and otherCarlovingian romances, is identified by Condé with the Mohammedan Wali, or Governor of Saragossa, Abdelmelic, the son of Omar, called by theChristians Omarus Filius, hence the corruption Marsilius. 

With these brief outlines of the history of Roncesvalles before us it isinteresting to observe the grandiloquent strain of the old Norman_rymours_, the fearless exaggerations, and the total ignorance of theactual state of affairs in Spain under the enlightened and accomplishedArabians. 

 _"Carles li reis nostre emperere magnes, Set anz tut pleins ad estet en Espaigne. "_

Our great emperor Charles the King had been for seven full years inSpain, so runs the chronicle; castle and keeper alike had gone downexcept Saragossa, the mountain town, where King Marsil held his court, surrounded by 20, 000 Mohammedan nobles. At their council it was agreedto accept Spain as a fief from the emperor, and ten knights set out withgolden bridles and silver saddles, "And they ride with olive boughs in hand, To seek the lord of the Frankish land. "

Near the pass of Roncesvalles, one of the Pyrenean "gates" of Spain, sits the emperor upon a throne of beaten gold. His form is tall andmajestic, and his long white beard flows over his coat of mail. 'Tiswhispered, too, that he is already two hundred years old, and yet, therehe is in all his pride. Beside him stand his nephew Roland, the LordMarquis of the marches of Bretagne; Sir Olivier; Geoffrey of Anjou, theprogenitor of the Plantagenets; "and more than a thousand Franks ofFrance. " The Moslem knights are introduced to this council of war, KingMarsil's offer is accepted, and Sir Ganelon is sent to Saragossa torepresent the emperor. Jealous of Roland's military glory, and enviousof the stores of pagan gold, the false Ganelon conspires with KingMarsil to put the all-powerful Roland to death. King Marsil is assuredthat on receipt of the golden tribute, Charlemagne will be persuaded toleave Spain, while by the traitor's advice Roland will be appointed toremain behind and guard the rear of the retiring hosts. The schemesucceeded. Ganelon returned to the Frankish camp with the tribute-moneyfor the emperor, and the traitor's gold for himself. The Franks begintheir homeward march. They are now descending the mountains into theirown fertile Gascon plains, and their hearts beat lightly, for

 "They think of their homes and their manors there, Their gentle spouses and damsels fair. "

But their great chief is silent and gloomy. Roland, the bravest of thebrave, has been left behind with all the paladins, save Ganelon, beyondthe gates of Spain. Last night the emperor dreamed he seemed to stand byCizra's pass in Roncesvalles, when Ganelon appeared before him, wrenchedthe emperor's spear from out his hand, waved it on high, then dashed itin pieces. What did it mean? He remembered the ominous words of hispeers, "Evil will come of this quest, we fear, " and Ganelon's strangereply, "Ye shall hear. "

Meanwhile Sir Roland was far behind in Roncesvalles. He rode his gallantsteed Veillantif; his white pennon, fringed with gold and set withdiamonds, sparkled in the sunshine; and by his side he wore his famoussword Durindana, with its hilt of gold shaped like a cross, on which wasgraven the name of "Jesus. " What a glorious picture of the Christianhero of mediæval times! With him were Olivier, the good ArchbishopTurpin, and the remaining knights who made up the Order of the Paladinsof Charlemagne, together with an army of 20, 000 men. 

The drums beat to arms in Saragossa's town, the tambours roll, thetabors sound, and 400, 000 men attend the call of King Marsil. From aneighboring height Sir Olivier observes this countless host approaching. He calls to Roland to blow his ivory horn and bring back the emperor. Roland refuses, and the Franks prepare to fight; not, however, before onbended knee they receive the archbishop's benediction and a promise ofparadise to all who die in this holy war against the pagan foe. With theold French battle-cry, "Mont-joie! Mont-joie!" the Christians dash therowels into their steeds and close with the enemy. Homer does not relatea bloodier fight than that which follows, and which takes eighty-sixstanzas, or fifty of Mr. O'Hagan's pages, to describe. Again and againthe Christians charge the Saracens. What deeds the great sword Durindanadid that day! The slain lie in thousands; the Saracens flee; and in thepursuit all are killed save _one_, who reaches Saragossa. The triumph, however, is short-lived; Ganelon had decreed that Roland must die, andso a mightier army than before marches forth to exterminate Roland'shandful, now reduced to 300. 

During this battle a terrible storm passes over France, --thunder andwhirlwinds, rain and hail, there came. 

The people thought that the end of the world had come, but this was onlya foreshadowing of Roland's death. At last all the nobles are killedexcept Roland, Olivier, the archbishop, and sixty men. Then only willRoland deign to blow his horn. Charlemagne hears it thirty leagues away, and orders his army to return to Roncesvalles. Ganelon alone seeks todissuade him, and is put in chains by the desire of the nobles, whosuspect him. The army of Charles hurries back, but all too late. Theywill not arrive in time. Away in the Pass of Cizra, Roland looks aroundon his dead comrades and weeps. He returns to Olivier's side, who isengaged in a hand-to-hand encounter with King Marsil's uncle, the Moslemprince, Algalif, from whom he receives his death-wound. Olivier reels inhis saddle, his eyes are dimmed with blood, and as he strikes madlyabout with his spear, he smashes Roland's helmet. The friend of Olivieris astonished, but soft and low he speaks to him thus:

 "'Hast thou done it, my comrade, wittingly? Roland who loves thee so dear am I. Thou hast no quarrel with me to seek?' Olivier answered, 'I hear thee speak, But I see thee not; God seeth thee. Have I struck thee, brother, forgive it me?' 'I am not hurt, O Olivier; And in sight of God, I forgive thee here. ' Then to each other his head hath laid, And in love like this was their parting made. "

With hands clasped Sir Olivier cries to God for admittance intoParadise, and for a blessing on "King Karl and France the fair, " andabove all on his brother Roland. Then his hands fall, his head sinks onhis breast, and he passes away. Filled with grief, Roland murmurs:

 "So many days and years gone by We lived together. And thou hast never done me wrong. Since thou art dead, to live is pain. "

Once more Roland turns to where Count Walter of Hum and the archbishopalone stand at bay:

 "And the heathen cries, 'What a felon three! Look to it, lords, that they shall not flee. '"

[Illustration: Roland at Roncesvalles. ]

Count Walter falls at last, just as they hear the welcome sound ofCharlemagne's trumpets, at which the Saracens flee, leaving Roland andthe archbishop unconquered. But their end is near. Roland swoons, andthe good archbishop, in attempting to bring water in the famous hornfor the dying Paladin, falls from loss of blood. Roland recovers only intime to see him die; then, as he feels that death is near him also, helooks once more on his goodly sword Durindana, and as he looks he cries:

 "Oh fair and holy, my peerless sword, What relics lie in thy pommel stored-- Tooth of St. Peter, Saint Basil's blood, Hair of St. Denis beside them strewed, Fragment of Holy Mary's vest-- 'Twere shame that thou with the heathen rest, Thee should the hand of a Christian serve, One who should never in battle swerve. "

In despair lest it fall into pagan hands he tries to break it in pieces, and the mighty slashes he made in the rocks are still pointed out as the"Brèche de Roland. " You remember Wordsworth's lines:

 "the Pyrenean breach, Which Roland clove with huge two-handed sway, And to the enormous labor left his name, Where unremitting frost the rocky crescents bleach. "

Surely Roland might now rest from his labors, amid the "flowerets ofParadise. " But no; he had yet to smash the head of a prowling Saracenwho thought him an easy prey. In doing so he spoiled forever the ivoryhorn, his only weapon. Not till then could he clasp his hands as he wentto rest, and not till then did

 "God from on high send down to him One of His angel cherubim. "

St. Michael it was, who with St. Gabriel bore his soul to Paradise. 

It would be too long a story to tell of the vengeance of the EmperorCharles, how _the sun stood still_ till the Franks had killed every oneof the Saracens; how Ganelon was accused of treachery, tried by combat, and sentenced to be torn to pieces by wild horses. The story is a truetragedy, terrible as the tragedy of Oedipus. From another source wegather the mournful sequel. 

Long before the battle of Roncesvalles Roland and Olivier had met insingle combat on a quiet island in the Rhone. Toward even a fleecy cloudhovered over them, and from its midst an angel "wrapped in rosy light"separated the combatants, bidding them be friends, and telling them toturn their swords against the enemies of the Faith. The heroes shookhands, the angel vanished, and from that day there were no truer friendsthan Roland and Olivier. Their union was further cemented by thebetrothal of Roland to the Lady Alda, Sir Olivier's sister, a maiden whohad already, in Roland's presence, proved herself as bold in war as shewas loving in peace. 

ROLLO THE GANGER[4]

 [Footnote 4: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By HJALMAR HJORTH BOYESEN

(860-932)

[Illustration: Rollo the Ganger. ]

When King Harold the Fair-haired, in 872 A. D. , had united all thescattered earldoms of Norway under his own sway, he issued a stringentorder forbidding pillaging within his kingdom under penalty of outlawry. The custom of sailing out into the world as a viking and plunderingforeign lands, was held to be a most honorable one in those days; andevery chieftain who wished to give his sons the advantages of "a liberaleducation" and foreign travel, strained his resources in order to equipthem for such an expedition. But the Norwegians of the ninth century hadas yet no national feeling; and they regarded King Harold's prohibitionagainst plundering their own shores as absurd and arbitrary. Rollo orRolf, the son of the king's best friend, Ragnvald, Earl of Möre, undertook to disregard the order. Coming home from a cruise in theBaltic and being short of provisions, he landed in the south of Norwayand made havoc among the coast dwellers. The king, determined to make anend of the nefarious practice, kept his word and outlawed him. 

Rollo, being unequal to a struggle with the king, betook himself to theHebrides, where a number of other Norse chieftains had sought a refugefrom similar persecutions. His great strength and sagacity, no less thanhis distinguished birth, secured him a favorable reception and muchinfluence. He was so tall that no Norwegian horse could carry him, forwhich reason he was compelled always to walk, and was surnamed Rollo theGanger, or Walker. Though not formally recognized as chieftain, he seemsgradually, by dint of his eminence, to have assumed command over theNorse exiles; and it was probably at his advice that they resolved toabandon the bleak and barren Hebrides, and seek a more congenial home ina sunnier clime. At all events a large expedition was fitted out and setsail for the south, early in the tenth century. It landed first inHolland, but finding that all-too-accessible country already devastatedby other vikings, they proceeded to the coast of France and entered themouth of the river Seine. Charles the Simple, a feeble, foolish, andgood-natured man, was then king of France, but utterly unequal to thetask of defending his territory against foreign invaders or domesticpretenders. The empire of Charlemagne had been broken up and dividedamong his grandsons; and the fraction which was to be France, was thenconfined between the Loire and the Meuse. 

Here was a golden opportunity for Rollo the Ganger and his vikings. Meeting with no formidable opposition, they sailed up the Seine and castanchor at the town of Jumièges, five leagues from Rouen. This ancientcity, which had suffered much from recent sieges and invasions, was inno condition to defend itself. It was of slight avail that the priestschanted in the churches, with the fervor of despair: "Deliver us, ohGod, from the fury of Norsemen!" The vikings continued to pillage thesurrounding territory, and were daily expected to sack the city. In thisdire dilemma the Archbishop of Rouen offered himself as an ambassador tothe pagans, in the hope that perhaps he might become an instrument inthe hand of God to avert the impending doom. But if, as seemed moreprobable, martyrdom was in store for him, he was ready to face deathwithout flinching. Rollo, however, who could honor courage even in anenemy, received him courteously, and after a brief negotiation pledgedhimself, in case the city surrendered, to take peaceful possession of itand to molest no one. This pledge he kept to the letter. His shipssailed up the river, and the tall chieftain, at the head of his band ofyellow-haired warriors, made his entry into Rouen, without a sword beingdrawn or a torch lighted. He inspected the fortifications, the watersupply, and all points of strategic interest, and finding everythingtolerably satisfactory, resolved to remain. Making Rouen hisheadquarters and base of supplies, the Norsemen made expeditions up theSeine and established a great fortified camp near the confluence of theSeine and the Eure. Hither a French army, under the command of Regnault, Duke of France, was sent to drive them out of the country. But beforerisking a battle Regnault chose to negotiate. He sent a certain Hasting, Count of Chartres, to Rollo in order to find out what was the aim andobject of his invasion. This Hasting was himself a Norseman, and had, twenty years before, proved himself so formidable a foe, that the Kingof France had been compelled to buy his friendship by a concession ofland and a noble title, in return for which favors Hasting had become aChristian and a vassal to the king. It was doubtful, perhaps, if thisman, even though he may have acted in good faith, was the bestambassador to his countrymen. For he was himself a living example ofwhat might be gained by audacity and a shrewd use of one's advantages. 

The following conversation is reported to have taken place between theCount of Chartres and the Norwegian vikings:

"Gallant soldiers!" shouted Hasting, from afar, "what is yourchieftain's name?"

"We have no lord over us, " they replied; "we are all equal. "

"For what purpose have you come to France?"

"To drive out the people who are here, or make them our subjects, andwin for ourselves a new country. But who are you? How is it that youspeak our tongue?"

"You know the story of Hasting, " the count made answer; "Hasting, thegreat viking, who scoured the seas with his multitude of ships, and didso much damage in this kingdom?"

"Ay, we have heard of that; but Hasting has made a bad end to so good abeginning. "

"Will you submit to King Charles?" was the ambassador's next query. "Will you give your faith and service, and receive from him gifts andhonor?"

"No, no, " they cried back; "we will not submit to King Charles. Go backand tell him so, you messenger, and say that we claim the rule anddominion of whatever we win by our own strength and our swords. "

Hasting lost no time in communicating this message to the French and inurging a compromise. But Regnault called him a traitor, and would havenone of his advice. He promptly attacked Rollo and his Norsemen, butsuffered an overwhelming defeat. His army was cut to pieces, and hehimself slain by a fisherman of Rouen who had attached himself to theinvading force. Rollo followed up his victory by sailing up the riverand laying siege to Paris; but the capital of France proved too strongfor him and he had to retire to Rouen, whence he continued to havoc thesurrounding country. He conquered the city of Bayeux and slew its ruler, Count Berenger, whose beautiful daughter, Popa, he married. Instead oforganizing mere plundering expeditions, Rollo gradually changed histactics and took permanent possession of the towns that fell into hishands. The peasants, too, who lived in the open country, found that itwas their best policy to seek his friendship and pay him tribute, ratherthan rely upon the uncertain protection of the King of France. They haddiscovered before this that Rollo was a man whose word could betrusted--a lord of mighty will, who had a ruthless way of enforcingobedience, but was open-handed and generous withal to those who wouldserve his purposes. 

It could no longer be said with truth, as the vikings had said toHasting, that they had no lord over them. Rollo, whose chieftainship hadhitherto been based upon his genius for ruling, was now formally chosenking--a title which he later exchanged for that of Duke of Normandy. InNorway, previous to the conquests of Harold the Fair-haired, eachprovince had had its king, who was not always hereditary, but was oftenchosen by the peasants themselves, because he possessed the qualitiesrequired of a leader. It was in accordance with the same custom thatthey now conferred kingship upon Rollo, whose valor, sagacity, andfirmness of purpose had been amply proven. It was the power of theman--the weight and force of his personality--which they respected, noless than his clear-sightedness, his readiness of resource, and hisskill in the rude statecraft of his age. 

[Illustration: Rollo the Ganger attacks Paris. ]

Encouraged by his previous successes, Rollo now made larger plans, andwith the view to carrying them out, formed an alliance with some Danishvikings who had managed to effect a lodgement and maintain themselvesfor some years at the mouth of the Loire. Together they started upon anextensive campaign, the objective point of which was again Paris. Butthe powerful fortifications baffled the Norsemen, who possessed nomachinery of destruction fit to cope with such defences. The siege hadtherefore to be abandoned. Dijon and Chartres also made a successfulresistance. But a long chain of smaller cities surrendered, and thecountry was ravaged far and wide. The peasants took to the woods andrefused to sow their fields, knowing that there was small chance oftheir reaping them. So desperate became the situation that nobles andpeasants alike entreated the king to make peace with the Norsemen onwhatever terms he could procure. The king was not unwilling to listen tosuch prayers. It occurred to him that in making a treaty with Rollo hewould be killing two birds with one stone. He would not only be riddingFrance of a dangerous foe, but he might secure for himself a powerfulfriend who might help him keep the unruly nobles in order, and securehim in the possession of his shorn and reduced kingdom. With this end inview he invested Rollo with the sovereignty of his northern province, named after the Norsemen, Normandy, and conferred upon him the title ofduke (912 A. D. ). Rollo was to recognize Charles as his overlord, anddefend him against external and internal foes; and he was to become aChristian and marry the king's daughter, Gisla. It is told, however, that when Rollo was required to kneel down and kiss the royal foot intoken of fealty, he stoutly refused. 

"I will never bend my knee before any man, " he said, "nor will I kissanyone's foot. "

After much persuasion however, he permitted one of his men to performthe act of homage in his stead. His proxy stalked sullenly forward, andpausing before the king, who was on horseback, seized his foot andraised it to his lips. By this manoeuvre, the king came to make asomersault, at which there followed a great and disrespectful burst oflaughter from the Norsemen. 

Shortly after the conclusion of this treaty Rollo was baptized, and hismarriage to the Princess Gisla was celebrated with great pomp in thecity of Rouen. His previous marriage to Popa does not seem to havecaused him any scruple, though, as a matter of fact, he continued toregard the latter as his wife, and when Gisla died he resumed hismarital relations with her, if indeed they had ever been interrupted. The princess had been to him nothing but a hostage from the king and apledge of his good faith. But Popa, who was the mother of his sonWilliam, surnamed Longsword, he loved, and we do not hear that the factthat he had killed her father caused any serious trouble between them. 

As Duke of Normandy, Rollo exhibited a political insight and a geniusfor administration which in those turbulent days was certainlyremarkable. He had the true welfare of his people at heart, and with afirm hand he maintained justice, protecting the weak, and restrainingthe strong. The laws which he made he enforced with stern impartiality, and no man could plead birth or privilege before him, if he wantonlyoffended. The farmers were Rollo's special care; for warrior though hewas, he well knew that war is destructive, and that the prosperity of aland must be founded upon productive labor. The peasantry of Normandywere not slow to discover that they were better off under their newruler than they ever had been under the old; and they rewarded Rollowith a sincere loyalty and devotion. Their confidence in his power toright wrong, became in the course of time half superstitious; and if anyof them was in peril or suffered at the hands of his enemy, it becamethe fashion to shout: "Ha, Rou!"--Rou being a corruption of Raoul, theFrench form of Rolf or Rollo. Then it was the duty of everyone who heardthis cry, to hasten to the aid of the sufferer or to pursue hisassailant. It has been asserted that our "hurrah" is derived from thisNorman shout, but I hold this to be more than doubtful. 

That Normandy was prosperous under the reign of Rollo, and that itspeople were contented, seems, however, to be well established. Accordingto the legend, so great was the public security that property left onthe highway could be found untouched after days and weeks; the farmerleft his implements in the field without fear of losing them; and theftand robbery became comparatively rare. In a great measure this was, nodoubt, due to the strict organization which Rollo introduced, and hisinsistence upon the personal accountability of each one of his subjectsto himself. For he had learned one most important lesson from his enemy, Harold the Fair-haired. This king was the first to establish in Europewhat is called the feudal system of land-tenure. He declared all land tobe the property of the crown, and merely held in fief by the nominalowners. In recognition of the king's proprietorship, the latter, therefore, pledged themselves to pay a certain tribute, and to supportthe king in case of war, with a given number of armed men, in accordancewith the size and value of their holdings. This same system Rollo issaid to have introduced into Normandy, whence it spread over all Europe. Though we have now no more use for it, it proved a great and importantelement in the progress of civilization. 

Rollo the Ganger must have been nearly eighty years old when he died in927. His son, William Longsword, who succeeded him as Duke of Normandy, was a man of gentler disposition and in vigor and sagacity inferior tohis father. Rollo's descendant in the fifth generation was William theConqueror, who inherited in a larger measure the qualities of his greatancestor. 

[Signature: Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen. ]

LEIF ERICSON[5]

 [Footnote 5: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By HJALMAR HJORTH BOYESEN

(About 1000)

[Illustration: Leif Ericson. ]

The story of the Finding of Wineland the Good is contained, in somewhatdiffering versions, in two parchment books, the one belonging to thefirst, and the other to the last, quarter of the fourteenth century. Both agree in attributing the discovery to Leif the Lucky, the son ofEric the Red; though the Flatey Book says that he was induced toundertake this voyage by a certain Bjarne Herjulfson, who, having beendriven out of his course by storms, had seen strange lands, but had notexplored them. 

Leif's father, Eric the Red, was, like most Norsemen of his day, anunruly and turbulent man, whose sword sat loosely in its sheath. He wasborn about the middle of the tenth century at Jaederen, in Norway, butwas outlawed on account of a manslaughter, and set sail for Iceland, where he married a certain Thorhild, the daughter of Jorund andThorbjorg the Ship-chested. But the same high temper and quarrelsomespirit which had compelled him to leave Norway got him into trouble alsoin his new home. He was forced by blood-feuds and legal acts ofbanishment to change his abode repeatedly, and finally he was declaredan outlaw. Knowing that his life was forfeited, Eric, as a lastdesperate chance, equipped a ship, and sailed "in search of that landwhich Gunbjörn, the son of Ulf the Crow, had seen when he was drivenwestward across the main;" and promised, in case he found it, to returnand apprise his friends of the discovery. Fortune favored him, and hefound a great, inhospitable continent, which (in order to allurecolonists) he called Greenland; "for, " he said, "men would be moreeasily persuaded thither, if the country had a good name. " He landed inthree or four places, but, being dissatisfied, broke up and started insearch of more favorable localities. At the end of three years hereturned to Iceland fought his foes and was defeated, but finallysucceeded, by the backing of friends, in effecting a reconciliation withthem. He spent the winter in Iceland, and sailed the following springfor Greenland, where he settled at a place called Brattahlid (Steep Lea)in Ericsfirth. Thirty-five ship-loads of people followed him, but onlyfourteen arrived safely. The remainder were shipwrecked, or driven backto Iceland. 

The interest now shifts from Eric to his son, Leif the Lucky, whobecomes the hero of the Saga. Sixteen years after his father'ssettlement in Greenland, Leif, as behooved the son of a chieftain, equipped a ship and set out to see the world, and gather fortune andexperience. He must then have been between twenty and twenty-five yearsold. He arrived in Drontheim, Norway, in the autumn, and met there KingOlaf Tryggveson. The king, who had been baptized in England, was full ofzeal for the Christian faith, and was employing every means in his powerto christianize the country. But the peasantry, who were worshippers ofOdin and Thor, refused to listen to him, and even compelled him to eathorse-flesh and participate in pagan rites. Under these circumstances itis not to be wondered at that he took kindly to the handsome youngIcelander who displayed such an interest in the new religion, andlistened attentively while the king expounded the faith to him. For Leifwas a courteous and intelligent man, of fine presence, good address, andindomitable spirit. The king, says the Saga, "thought him a man of greataccomplishments. " It was not long before he concluded to acceptChristianity, whereupon he was baptized, with all his shipmates. KingOlaf then charged him to return to Iceland and induce the people toabandon idolatry and accept the true faith. Leif, knowing how deeplyattached the Icelanders were to their old gods, was very reluctant toundertake this mission, but finally yielded to the king's persuasions, "provided the king would grant him the grace of his protection. "

He accordingly put to sea; but encountered heavy weather and was drivenout of his course. For a long while he was tossed about by the tempest, until he came upon "lands of which he had previously no knowledge. Therewere self-sown wheat-fields and vines growing there. There were alsothose trees which are called _masur_ (maples?). And of all these thingsthey took samples. "

The other version to which I have alluded is much more explicit, andrecounts how Leif went to Greenland to visit his father, Eric the Red, and how there he heard the account of Bjarne Herjulfson's voyage, and ofthe unknown lands to the westward which he professed to have seen. Thepeople, we read, blamed Bjarne for his lack of enterprise in failing toexplore the territories of which he had caught glimpses, "so as to beable to bring some report of them. " Leif, being of an adventurousspirit, was fired by this talk, and resolved to accomplish what theincurious Bjarne had left undone. He gathered together a crew ofthirty-five men, and invited his father to command the expedition. Ericat first declined, saying that he was well stricken in years, and unableto endure the exposure of such a voyage. Leif insisted, however, that"he would be most apt to bring good luck, " and the old man, yielding tohis son's solicitation, mounted his horse and rode forth at the head ofthe ship-crew. But when he was nearing the beach, the horse stumbled andEric was thrown and wounded his foot. This was held to be a bad omen, and as he was trying to rise, he exclaimed:

"It is not destined that I shall discover any more lands than the one inwhich we are now living; nor can we now continue longer together. "

Leif, knowing persuasion to be vain, pursued his way alone, and embarkedwith his thirty-five shipmates. 

"When they were ready, they sailed out to sea and found first that landwhich Bjarne and his shipmates found last. "

It is not stated how long they had been at sea when this land was found. The account goes on as follows:

"They sailed up to the land and cast anchor, and launched a boat andwent ashore, and saw no grass there. Great ice mountains lay inland, back from the sea, and it was as a [table land of] flat rocks all theway from the sea to the ice mountains; and the country seemed to them tobe entirely devoid of good qualities. Then said Leif: 'It has not cometo pass with us in regard to this land as with Bjarne, that we have notgone upon it. To this country I will now give a name and call itHelluland' (_i. E. _, The Land of Flat Rocks). 

"They returned to the ship and put out to sea, and found a second land. They sailed again to the land, came to anchor, launched a boat, and wentashore. This was a level wooded land, and there were broad stretches ofwhite sand, where they went, and the land was level by the sea. Thensaid Leif: 'This land shall have a name according to its nature, and wewill call it Markland' (_i. E. _, Wood Land). They returned to the shipforthwith and sailed away upon the main, with northeast winds, and wereout two 'doegr' before they sighted land. They sailed toward this landand came to an island which lay to the northward off the land. Therethey went ashore and looked about them, the weather being fine, and theyobserved that there was dew upon the grass; and it so happened that theytouched the dew with their hands, and touched their hands to theirmouths; and it seemed to them that they had never tasted anything sosweet as this. They went aboard their ship again, and sailed into acertain sound, which lay between the island and a cape which jutted outfrom the land on the north, and they stood in westering past the cape. At ebb-tide there were broad stretches of shallow water there, and theyran their ship aground; and it was a long distance from the ship to theocean. Yet were they so anxious to go ashore that they could not waituntil the tide should rise under their ship, but hastened to the land, where a certain river flows out from a lake. As soon as the tide rosebeneath their ship, however, they took the boat and rowed to the ship, which they towed up the river, and then into the lake, where they castanchor and carried their hammocks ashore, and built themselves boothsthere. They afterward determined to establish themselves there for thewinter, and they accordingly built a large house. There was no lack ofsalmon either in the river or in the lake, and larger salmon than theyhad ever seen before. The country thereabouts seemed to be possessed ofsuch good qualities that cattle would need no fodder there during thewinter. There was no frost there during the winter, and the grasswithered but little. The days and the nights were of more nearly equallength than in Greenland or Iceland. "

Now follows an account of the exploring parties which Leif sent out, some of which he joined, while at other times he remained behind toguard the house. Here occurs, with curious abruptness, this graphic bitof characterization: "Leif was a large and powerful man, and of mostimposing bearing, a man of sagacity, and a very just man in all things. "

A very pretty incident is now related of the German Tyrker, who had beenone of the thralls of Eric the Red, and of whom Leif was very fond. Itwas the custom in the households of Norse chiefs to give children intothe special charge of a trusted thrall, who was then styled the child'sfoster-father. Sometimes the thrall was presented to the child as a"tooth-gift, " _i. E. _, in commemoration of its cutting its first tooth. 

"It was discovered one evening that one of their company was missing;and this proved to be Tyrker, the German. Leif was sorely troubled bythis; for Tyrker had lived with Leif and his father for a long time, andhad been very devoted to Leif when he was a child. Leif severelyreprimanded his companions and prepared to go in search of him. They hadproceeded but a short distance from the house when they were met byTyrker, whom they received most cordially. Leif observed at once thathis foster-father was in lively spirits. . . . Leif addressed him andasked: 'Wherefore art thou so belated, foster-father mine, and astrayfrom the others?'

"In the beginning Tyrker spoke for some time in German, rolling hiseyes, and grinning, and they could not understand him. But after a timehe addressed them in the Norse tongue. 

"'I did not go much farther [than you]; yet I have something novel torelate. I have found grapes and vines. '

"'Is this indeed true, foster-father?' asked Leif. 

"'Of a certainty it is true' replied he; 'for I was born where there isno lack of either grapes or vines. '

"They slept the night through, and on the morrow Leif said to hisshipmates:

"'We will now divide our labors; and each day will either gather grapes, or cut vines, or fell trees, so as to obtain a cargo of these for myship. '

"They acted upon this advice, and it is said that their after-boat wasfilled with grapes. A cargo sufficient for the ship was cut, and whenthe spring came they made their ship ready and sailed away. And from itsproducts Leif gave the land a name and called it Wineland. 

"They sailed out to sea and had fair winds until they sighted Greenland, and the fells below the glacier; then one of the men spoke up and said:'Why do you steer the ship so close to the wind?' Leif answered: 'I havemy mind upon my steering and upon other matters as well. Do you not seeanything out of the common?' They replied that they saw nothing unusual. 'I do not know, ' says Leif, 'whether it is a ship or a skerry that Isee. ' Now they saw it, and said that it must be a skerry. But he was somuch more sharp-sighted than they, that he was able to discern men uponthe skerry. 'I think it best to tack, ' says Leif, 'so that we may drawnear to them and be able to render them assistance, if they stand inneed of it. And if they should not be peaceably disposed, we shall havebetter command of the situation than they. '

[Illustration: Leif Ericson off the Coast of Vineland. ]

"They approached the skerry, and lowering their sail, cast anchor andlaunched a second small boat, which they had brought with them. Tyrker inquired who was the leader of the party. He replied that hisname was Thare, and that he was a Norwegian. 'But what is thy name?'Leif gave his name. 'Art thou a son of Eric the Red, of Brattahlid?'says he. Leif replied that he was. 'It is now my wish, ' Leif continued, 'to take you all into my ship, and likewise as much of your possessionsas the ship will hold. '

"This offer was accepted, and [with their ship] thus laden, they heldtheir course toward Ericsfirth, and sailed until they arrived atBrattahlid. Having discharged his cargo, Leif invited Thare, with hiswife, Gudrid, and three others to make their home with him, and procuredquarters for the other members of the crew, both for his own and Thare'smen. Leif rescued fifteen men from the skerry. He was from that timeforth called Leif the Lucky. "

The time of Leif's voyage to Wineland has been fixed at 1000 A. D. For welearn that it took place while Olaf Tryggveson (995-1000 A. D. ) was kingin Norway; and scarcely less than four or five years could have elapsedsince Leif's first meeting with the king in Drontheim, shortly after thedeath of his predecessor, Earl Hakon. 

The remainder of the Saga of Eric the Red is occupied with an account ofthe successive Wineland voyages of Thorwald Ericson, the brother ofLeif, Thorfinn Karlsefne, and of Leif's sister, Freydis, who was asquarrelsome, proud, and pugnacious as her father. The Indians (called bythe Norsemen Skrellings), who had failed to disturb Leif, madedemonstrations of hostility against Thorfinn Karlsefne, and after theloss of several of his men, compelled him to abandon the attempt at apermanent settlement. 

The tradition of these Wineland voyages continued, however, to betransmitted from generation to generation in Iceland, and in the earlypart of the fourteenth century was committed to writing. 

It will be seen that the saga to which I have referred was not writtenprimarily with a view to establish Leif's claim to be the discoverer ofWineland. In the first place the story, in the shape in which we haveit, is more than a century and a half older than the Columbiandiscovery, and there could, accordingly, be no great glory in havingfound a country which had since been lost. Secondly, the saga is (likemost Icelandic sagas) a family chronicle, purporting to relate allmatters of interest pertaining to the race of Eric the Red. The Winelandvoyages are treated as remarkable incidents in this chronicle, but theyhardly occupy any more space than properly belongs to them in a familyhistory which is concerned with a great many other things besides. Theimportance of this as corroborating the authenticity of the narrative, can scarcely be over-estimated. 

[Signature: Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen. ]

HAROLD, KING OF ENGLAND

(1022-1066)

[Illustration: Harold, King of England. ]

Harold II. , the last of the native English kings, was the second son ofEarl Godwin by his Danish wife Gytha, the sister of Earl Ulf, and wasborn about 1022. At an early age he was made Earl of the East Angles andhe shared his father's outlawry in 1051, finding a refuge in Ireland. Next year, together with his brother Leofwin, he crossed the Channelwith nine ships, defeated the men of Somerset and Devon at Porlock, andravaged the country, next joined his father at Portland, and shared thetriumph of his return. Harold was at once restored to his earldom, andnext year (1053) succeeded to his father's earldom of the West Saxons. Henceforward he was the right hand of King Edward, and still more afterthe deaths of the old Earls Leofric and Siward, he directed the wholeaffairs of the kingdom, with an unusual union of gentleness and vigor. His brother Tostig succeeded Siward as Earl of the Northumbrians in1055, and two years later two other brothers were raised to earldoms:Gurth to that of the East Anglians, Leofwin to one formed out of Essex, Kent, and the other shires round about London. Meantime Harold droveback the Welsh marauders of King Griffith out of Herefordshire, andadded that post of danger to his earldom. The death in 1057 of theÆtheling Edward, the son of Edmund Ironside, who had been brought backfrom Hungary as heir to the throne, opened up the path for Harold'sambition, and from this time men's eyes rested on him as their futureking. And nature had equalled fortune in her kindness, for his handsomeand stalwart figure and his gentle and conciliatory temper were kinglyqualities that sat well upon his sagacity, his military skill, and hispersonal courage. Harold's policy throughout was thoroughly English, contrary to the predominant French influences that had governed theearly part of Edward's reign. He was English in everything, even to hispreference for secular priests to monks. He made his pilgrimage to Romein 1058, and after his return completed his church at Waltham, knownlater as Waltham Abbey. In 1063, provoked by the fresh incursions ofGriffith, he marched against him, and by making his men put off theirheavy armor and weapons, and adopt the Welshmen's own tactics, he wasable to traverse the whole country, and beat the enemy at every point. Griffith was killed by his own people, whereupon Harold gave thegovernment to the dead king's brothers, Bleddyn and Rhiwallon, who sworeoaths of fealty both to King Edward and to himself. 

It is impossible to say exactly at what date occurred that famous visitof Harold to the court of Duke William, in Normandy, of the results ofwhich the Norman writers make so much, although with manycontradictions, while the English writers, with the most marked andcareful unanimity, say nothing at all. It seems most likely that Harolddid make some kind of oath to William, most probably under compulsion, when he had fallen into his hands after being shipwrecked on the coastof Ponthieu, and imprisoned by its Count Guy. Mr. Freeman thinks themost probable date to be 1064. It is at least certain that Harold helpedWilliam in a war with the Bretons, and in the Bayeux tapestry we see hisstalwart form lifting up two Normans at once when they were in danger ofbeing swept away by the river Coesnon, which divides Normandy fromBrittany. The Norman writers make Harold formally swear fealty toWilliam, promising to marry one of his daughters, and we are told thatadditional sanctity was given to this oath by its being made upon achest full of the most sacred relics. 

In 1065, the Northumbrians rebelled against the rule of Tostig, andHarold found himself compelled, between policy and a sense of justice, to side with them, and to acquiesce in their choice of Morcar and thebanishment of Tostig. At the beginning of 1066 King Edward died, hislast breath being to recommend that Harold should be chosen king. He wascrowned on January 6th, and at once set himself with steadfast energy toconsolidate his kingdom. At York he won over the reluctant men ofNorthumbria, and he next married Ealdgyth, Griffith's widow, in order tosecure the alliance of her brothers, Morcar and Edwin. His short reignof forty weeks and one day was occupied with incessant vigilance againstthe attacks of two formidable enemies at once. Duke William lost no timein beginning his preparations for the invasion of England, and Tostig, after trying the Normans and the Scots, and filibustering along thecoasts on his own account, succeeded in drawing to his side the famousHarold Hardrada, king of Norway. In the month of September the tworeached the Humber, and Harold marched to meet them, resting neither daynor night. The Icelandic historian, Snorro, in his dramatic narrative ofthe fight, tells how Harold rode out accompanied with twenty of hishousecarls to have speech with Earl Tostig, and offer him peace; andwhen asked what amends King Hardrada should have for his trouble incoming, replied, "Seven feet of the ground of England, or moreperchance, seeing he is taller than other men. " At Stamford BridgeHarold overtook his enemy, and after a bloody struggle won a completevictory (September 25, 1066), both Tostig and Harold Hardrada beingamong the slain. But four days later Duke William landed at Pevensey. Harold marched southward with the utmost haste, bringing with him themen of Wessex and East Anglia, and the earldoms of his brothers; but thetwo earls, Edwin and Morcar, held aloof and kept back the men of thenorth, although some of the men of Mercia, in the earldom of Edwin, followed their king to the fatal struggle which was fought out fromnine in the morning till past nightfall, on October 14, 1066. TheEnglish fought with the most stubborn courage, and the battle was onlylost by their allowing the pretended flight of the Normans to draw themfrom their impregnable position on the crest of the hill, ringed with anunbroken shield wall. On its slope, right in front of the Norman army, waved the golden dragon of Wessex, as well as the king's own standard, afighting man wrought upon it in gold. Here Harold stood with his mightytwo-handed axe, and hewed down the Normans as they came. Beforenightfall he fell, pierced through the eye with an arrow. His housecarlsfought where they stood till they fell one by one; his brothers, Gurthand Leofwin, died beside him. The king's body was found upon the field, recognized only by a former mistress, the fair Eadgyth Swanneshals("Edith of the swan's neck"). 

At first, William ordered it to be buried on the rocks at Hastings, butseems after to have permitted it to be removed to Harold's own church atWaltham. Than Harold, no braver or more heroic figure ever filled athrone; no king ever fought more heroically for his crown. If he failed, it was because he had to bow his head to fate, and in his death he savedall the honor of his family and his race. His tragic story has given asubject for a romance to Lytton, and for a stately drama to Tennyson. 

[Illustration: Edith searching for the Body of Harold. ]

THE CID

By HENRY G. HEWLETT

(1026-1099)

[Illustration: The Cid. ]

The narratives concerning the life and exploits of the Cid are, to agreat extent, merely poetic. Yet it has been wisely said, that muchwhich must be rejected as not fact may still be accepted as truth; thatis, there is often to be found under the husks of legend and myth, asound kernel of historical reality. This may be the case with respect tothe Cid, who probably was a warrior so remarkable for genius or braveryabove his fellows that he gathered up in a single fame the reputation ofmany others, with whose deeds he was credited, and whom, as a class, heaccordingly represents in history. 

Spain, long one of the most flourishing provinces of the Roman Empire, was among the first to fall under the sway of the Visigoths, a warlikebut enlightened race, which soon embraced Christianity. For threecenturies the country remained under Gothic rule, but fell, in 712, by the invasion of the Arabian conquerors of Africa--a remnant ofChristians only preserving an independent monarchy in the mountains ofAsturia. This little seed of freedom grew and bore fruit. France proveda formidable barrier against further invasion; and in Spain itselfinternal jealousies among the Arab families weakened the Moslem andstrengthened the Christian power. In the eleventh century there wereseveral states in Spain wholly unfettered by a foreign yoke. The enmitybetween the two races and creeds was bitter, and war raged perpetually. Yet it often happened that, at the prompting of private revenge orfamily quarrels, alliances were made between kingdoms thus naturallyopposed to each other. A recollection of this fact is essential to aclear understanding of Spanish history at this period. 

At the commencement of the eleventh century the chief Christian statesof Spain became, through divers marriages, united under one king, Sancho, who died in 1034 dividing his territories among his three sons:of whom Garcia took Navarre, Ferdinand, Castile, and Ramirez, Aragon. Leon, the remaining Christian monarchy, was ruled by Bermudez III. , whose sister Ferdinand of Castile had married. Just as this apparentjunction of interest occurred among the warriors of the Cross, thegreatest confusion prevailed among those of the Crescent. The mightyhouse of the Ommiades--perhaps the most illustrious of the factions intowhich the successors of the Prophet were divided--no longer commandedthe allegiance of the Arabs of Spain. Its last prince fled, and thechief cities fell into the hands of independent lords, who constitutedthemselves petty Emirs in their own dominions. Instead, however, oftaking full advantage of this state of anarchy to extend their unitedpower, the Christian kings weakened each other by unnatural and deadlyquarrels. Ferdinand, King of Castile, seems to have been the principalaggressor. His great captain in his wars, both with Moslem and Christianstates, was Rodrigo Laynez, who was called also by the Spaniards RuyDiaz de Rivar, from the name of his birthplace, and by the Arabs _ElSayd_ (Lord), which has been altered into Cid. He was probably bornabout the year 1026, or rather later, at the Castle of Rivar, nearBurgos, in Old Castile, of a noble but not wealthy family. He joined thearmy of Ferdinand, and rose by his talents, strength, and courage to thehighest place in that king's service. Among the romantic stories told ofhis early career is one concerning his marriage, which forms the subjectof a popular ballad. The father of Rodrigo, having been injured by aCount Gomez, the young knight defied the latter to a duel and slew him. The count's daughter, Ximena, in a storm of grief and rage, flew to theking, and cried for vengeance on Rodrigo, who met her face to face, andawaited the result of her entreaties. 

No one, however, was hardy enough to offer himself as the damsel'schampion against so doughty a warrior, and Rodrigo calmly retired. Hismanly bearing and fame won him a place in the very heart which he had sodeeply offended; and, with truly Spanish impetuosity, Ximena gave him, not only pardon, but love. She again repaired to the king and askedleave to bestow her hand upon the knight, urging the curious plea thatshe foresaw he would one day be the most powerful subject in the realm. Informed of this request, of which the king approved, Rodrigo consentedto the marriage, as an act of obedience to his sovereign and of justiceto the lady. The meeting of this strangely matched pair is thusdescribed in the ballad (Lockhart's translation):

 "But when the fair Ximena came forth to plight her hand, Rodrigo, gazing on her, his face could not command: He stood, and blushed before her: thus at the last said he, 'I slew thy sire, Ximena, but not in villany: In no disguise I slew him; man against man I stood; There was some wrong between us, and I did shed his blood: I slew a man; I owe a man; fair lady, by God's grace, An honored husband shalt thou have in thy dead father's place. '"

It is unfortunate that this charming story is supposed to have butlittle foundation in fact. Many of Rodrigo's legendary exploits arestill less authentic; but history and fable unite in declaring him awarrior of no common stamp. His master, King Ferdinand, as we have said, invaded the territories of his brothers and friends, besides those ofhis enemies. Garcia, Ramirez, and Bermudez successively fell before hisattacks, which Rodrigo, in the true spirit of knightly obedience to hislord, did not hesitate to lead. Sancho, the king's eldest son, wasRodrigo's most intimate friend; and on the accession of the prince tohis father's throne on the death of Ferdinand, in 1065, Rodrigo becameCampeador (or, as the Arabs call him, _El Cambitur_); that is, head ofthe army. The new king followed in his father's courses of injustice, and drove his brother, Alfonso, King of Leon, into exile. 

[Illustration: The Cid ordering the Execution of Ahmed. ]

In 1072 Sancho besieged Zamora, which one of his sisters, whom he hadlikewise despoiled, held out against him. The king was killed during thesiege, and, as it was suspected, by the agency of his exiled brother, Alfonso, who succeeded to the throne. Rodrigo felt his friend's deathdeeply, and did not scruple to avow his suspicions of Alfonso. Beforepromising allegiance, the Campeador insisted that the king shouldcleanse himself by an oath of the accusation which popular rumor hadbrought against him. To this Alfonso, whether innocent or guilty, notunnaturally demurred; but the powerful warrior was firm, and the king atlast yielded. When the appointed day arrived, Alfonso made hisappearance, surrounded by his courtiers, all obsequiously vying inpraise of his glory and virtue, and contemptuous denunciations of hisdaring accuser. Rodrigo stood alone and gazed on the king sternly. Someof the nobles endeavored to dissuade him from holding this attitude ofopposition, and to induce him to forego the demand which he had made;but he put them aside and repeated his challenge. Alfonso dared notrefuse to accept, and accordingly recited aloud the form of oathprescribed on such occasions, affirming, in the presence of his makerand the saints of heaven, that he was guiltless of the death of hisbrother. He had no sooner concluded than all eyes were turned upon theCid, who, in deep, solemn tones, and with the most impressiveearnestness of manner, imprecated on the head of his king every cursethat heaven or hell could inflict, if, in taking that oath, he hadcommitted perjury. The awed assembly then broke up. Rodrigo, from thathour, was hated by the king and shunned by the court. 

Yet, aware of the Cid's value, Alfonso seems to have concealed hisresentment for some time, and even endeavored to win the affection ofhis great subject by allying him in marriage with one of the royalfamily. Rodrigo's wife was now dead, and he consented to marry theprincess proposed to him, whose name was also Ximena. The marriage tookplace in 1074. It had not the effect, however, of uniting the king andthe Cid. After having achieved a brilliant success over the Arabs ofGranada, who were at war with two other Moslem states in alliance withCastile, and having signalized his humanity by releasing all hisprisoners, the great Campeador was disgraced and banished by hisungrateful master. At the court of the Emir of Saragossa the exile founda ready welcome, and was appointed to a high post in the government ofthe kingdom. He did not bear arms against his own sovereign, but headedthe Arabs in several battles with the Christians of Aragon and otherstates. The invasion of a Moorish host in Spain, under the eminentCaliph Jusef Ben Taxfin, chief of the Almoravides and conqueror ofMorocco; the rapid subjugation of the independent Emirs, and the defeatof Alfonso's army at the battle of Zalaka, in 1087, recalled theCastilians to a sense of Rodrigo's worth. He was invited to return byAlfonso, and with great generosity consented, bringing with him a largebody of men raised by his own exertion and cost. For two years he madehis name terrible to the Moors, as the great Christian champion. 

But even this fame was not sufficient to secure his influence at court, and about the year 1090 he was once more banished, and his estates wereseized. He appears from this time to have commenced a life ofadventurous and independent warfare with the Moors. He besieged Alcocer, a strong Moorish fortress on the borders of Aragon, and finally took it. With a band of determined warriors of his own stamp he ravaged, consumed, and spoiled all the Moslem territories which he invaded, making a castle on a rock in Ternel his chief stronghold, and thencesallying out in forays. The place has been ever since called the Rock ofthe Cid. 

The last and greatest achievement of this hero was the taking ofValencia. This city was in the hands of a Moslem prince, Alcadir byname, who had refused to acknowledge the authority of Jusef and theAlmoravides over Spain, which they were attempting to subdue. The Cid, either as an ally of Alcadir, or from motives of policy, assisted him inthe defence of the city; but it was taken through the treachery of itsCadi, Ahmed. For this service, the traitor was made governor in the roomof Alcadir, who fell fighting bravely. A kinsman of the betrayed kingdetermined to avenge his death, and asked the Cid's aid, which waspromptly given. The Arabian historians relate that Ahmed yielded after abrief siege, on conditions of safety for himself and family. It isfurther related that this promise was faithlessly broken, and the guiltyAhmed sentenced by Rodrigo to be burned alive for his crimes. TheChristian historians happily acquit the Cid's memory of this barbarity;but all unite in recording the successful siege of the city, which hetook in 1094. While he lived, the Moors vainly tried to retake it; buton his death, which is supposed to have occurred in 1099, Valencia againfell. Romance has colored with glowing tints this scanty historicoutline of the Cid's life. Spanish literature, for two or three hundredyears after his death, is almost confined to epic or ballad poetry, ofwhich he is the hero. To acquire such a fame demanded a force ofcharacter, which, if not accurately painted by these loving and fancifulnarrators, cannot have fallen far short of the glory with which theworld will forever associate the name of the Cid Campeador. 

ST. BERNARD

By HENRY G. HEWLETT

(1091-1153)

[Illustration: St. Bernard. ]

In 1091, when the career of the Cid was drawing to a close in Spain, ayet greater Christian champion was born in France; greater, if only inthis, that the weapons of his warfare were not carnal. That the work wasgood in itself, we think will be clear from a perusal of the life of thewarrior-monk, St. Bernard. 

His birthplace was Fontaines, near Dijon, in Burgundy; his father, Tecelin, a knight of honorable reputation, and so absorbed in hisprofession that he was compelled to leave the care of his seven sons, ofwhom Bernard was the third, to his wife Aleth. She was a pious andgentle woman, strictly attached to the duties of religion, and anxiousfor the spiritual rather than the temporal welfare of her children, whomshe therefore devoted to the cloister. A dream, it is said, hadindicated to her the future fame of her third son, before his birth. Herapidly displayed signs of possessing no ordinary character. Hiseducation was undertaken by the then celebrated school of Chantillon andthe University of Paris, where he remained some years, actively pursuinghis studies. His mother died soon after his return home, and he thenproceeded to fulfil her wish, which accorded with his own, of becoming amonk. His father and friends endeavored to dissuade him from this step, but instead, he persuaded five of his brothers and twenty-five otherfriends to join him in the career which he had chosen. His father andremaining brothers subsequently followed him, and the whole family tookmonastic vows. Bernard did not select for his abode one of thosemonasteries whose wealth and splendor had corrupted the intention oftheir founders, and softened the severity of the original discipline. His motive was truly religious, and took the superstitious form thenalmost inseparable from earnest piety. He and his comrades entered thepoor convent of Citeaux, near Dijon, where the rules of life enjoined bySt. Benedict in the sixth century were observed with great rigor. Frequent watchings, fasts, bleedings, and scourgings, for the purpose ofmortifying the body; abstinence from conversation or laughter; habits ofperpetual devotion, laborious exertion, and humble obedience to theabbot, were the main features of the system. Bernard undertook theduties of his office with such incessant zeal, and displayed suchamazing control over his appetites, that he seriously weakened hishealth, but at the same time enlarged his reputation to such an extentthat the convent became overcrowded with the number of those whom he hadattracted thither. He was therefore appointed, after three years'residence at Citeaux, to head a colony of monks which was to be fixed inthe valley of Clairvaux--a desolate though beautiful spot in thebishopric of Langres. The tears of their brethren accompanied thedeparture of Bernard and the twelve others who composed the band. It wasin the year 1115, and at the age of twenty-six, that he was made Abbotof Clairvaux. His appearance at the consecration is described as that ofa corpse rather than a man, so emaciated with the rigors of devotion hadhe become. He had frequent visions, perhaps from his weakness, in one ofwhich he imagined that the Virgin Mary herself appeared to him. Theprivations of the members of his little colony were most severe. Theseason for sowing had been spent in building the convent, and when thewinter came they were reduced to little better than starvation. Coarsebread and beech-leaves steeped in salt were their only food. This scantysustenance, together with the strict adherence to the Benedictine rule, in which Bernard still persisted, so shattered his health, that thebishop of the diocese, who was his personal friend, at last interfered, and released him from the active duties of abbot. But as soon as a briefrespite had restored his strength, Bernard renewed his self-mortifyingpractices. A fresh attack of illness followed, and he was obligedpermanently to relax his habits. In after-years he lamented the errorinto which his early enthusiasm and mistaken zeal had led him, theeffects of which greatly marred his future influence for good. 

Though debarred from laboring in his own sphere, Bernard's energeticmind would not let him rest, and he began from this time to exercisethe power which his reputation for sanctity had brought him, inpolitical life. He well knew the nature of the position which he wasthus enabled to take, and did not shrink from its perils. "Bernard!wherefore art thou here on earth?" is said to have been hisconstant self-appeal. Poor and unarmed, a priest or monk in thosedays had nothing wherewith to oppose the tyranny of the powerfulnobility, save the weapons of religion and intellect. Howrighteously they could be used we shall see in the case of Bernard. In repeated instances he interposed the weight of his authoritybetween the anger of a king or noble and the weakness of a subjector tenant, and scarcely ever failed in his object. One of the mostremarkable examples of this kind was his conduct toward the Count ofAquitaine. This nobleman, a man of immense strength of will no lessthan body, and violent and despotic beyond his fellows, havingespoused the cause of one rival Pope against another, dismissed fromtheir sees several excellent bishops in his territory who wereadverse to his views, and supplied their places without regard tofitness of character. Bernard, having twice remonstrated in vain, after the last interview held a solemn mass in the church near thecount's castle, at which that nobleman, as excommunicated, could notbe present, but stood outside. The consecration of the wafer wasduly performed, and the blessing bestowed upon the people, whenBernard suddenly made his way through the crowd, bearing in his handthe Host on its paten (or plate), and confronted the astonishedcount as he stood at the church door amid his soldiery. With pale, stern face, and flashing eyes, the daring monk thus addressed thehaughty chief: "Twice have the Lord's servants entreated you, andyou have despised them. Lo! now the blessed Son of the Virgin--theHead and Lord of that Church which you persecute--appears to you!Behold your Judge, to whom your soul must be rendered! Will youreject Him like His servants?" A hush of awe and expectation amongthe bystanders followed these words, broken by a groan from theconscience-stricken count, whose imagination was filled with suchlively terror of Divine wrath that he fell fainting to the ground. Though raised up by his men, he again fell speechless. Bernard, seizing the opportunity, called to his side one of the deposedbishops, and on the count's recovery ordered that the kiss ofreconciliation should be bestowed, and the exile restored. Theeffect of this scene was not transient, for the proud spirit hadbeen subdued in the count's heart, and he performed penance for hisoffences by going on pilgrimage. 

[Illustration: The Vision of St. Bernard. ]

Various other instances of Bernard's boldness in rebuking kings, nobles, and even Popes, might be adduced. His most remarkable appearance as apolitical peace-maker was in the dispute which took place after thedeath of Pope Honorius II. , as to the succession to the popedom. Tworival factions at Rome contended for the claims of separate candidates:one a wealthy and worldly, the other a learned and pious, cardinal. Bernard, as we may suppose, supported the cause of the latter, who tookthe name of Innocent II. At the council of Etampes, where Louis VI. OfFrance and his nobles were assembled, the monk's eloquence prevailedover all the arguments of diplomacy, and the influence of France waspledged to the side of Innocent. Bernard next engaged aid from Henry I. , of England, and Lothaire, the Emperor of Germany. He then proceeded toMilan, where the party of the rival Pope, Anaclete, and his supporter, Conrad, Duke of Suabia, Lothaire's antagonist, was strongest. Bernard'sfame was so great, and the imaginations of those who beheld him sofascinated by his force of will, that on his way the sick were carriedforth to meet him, and numerous miracles were said to be wrought by thetouch of his garments. In Milan, through his eloquence, Anaclete's partywas completely vanquished, and the Milanese so impressed that theyoffered to displace their archbishop in Bernard's favor. But on this andother occasions he steadily refused any such rank, content to live anddie in a sphere where he could be more useful, if less exalted. Hereturned to France, after a lengthened absence, in 1135, meeting on hisway with a royal reception. 

He was once more absorbed in the duties of his office, as Abbot ofClairvaux, when again summoned to Italy by Innocent II. , to oppose thepower of Roger, the Norman King of Sicily, whose aid Anaclete hadobtained. Bernard first passed into Germany, and successfully mediatedbetween the emperor and the Suabian princes, inducing the latter torelinquish their rebellion. Lothaire was then prevailed upon to aidInnocent by force of arms, while Bernard proceeded to employ force ofintellect in the same service. He first won over by his arguments manyof Anaclete's chief supporters, and then accepted a challenge which KingRoger threw out, to dispute publicly in the Court of Salerno as to theclaims of the rival Popes, with Anaclete's champion, Cardinal Pietro diPisa. At this public contest Bernard not only confuted, but converted, the cardinal, and reconciled him to Innocent. With Roger, Bernard wasnot so successful, and a battle ensued between the armies of thecontending Popes. Innocent was captured, but contrived to make favorableterms with Roger; and a peace was agreed to, which was finally ratifiedby the death of Anaclete, in 1138. Another anti-pope having been set up, Bernard used his personal influence with the pretender, and induced himto yield. Thus the schism in the Church was healed, and the good abbotreturned to Clairvaux. 

In 1146 he was mainly instrumental in promoting the second crusade. Newsreached Europe that, two years before, the Christian state of Edessa(which, as we have already seen, was founded by Baldwin, brother ofGodfrey de Bouillon) had, through the weakness of its government, falleninto the hands of the Sultan of Bagdad, and Jerusalem was again inperil. Inflamed with enthusiasm, Bernard stirred up the hearts of hiscountrymen to zeal in the cause of the Cross. Louis VII. , of France, wasreadily persuaded to undertake the crusade as a penance for his crimes;but the Emperor Conrad, of Germany, was indisposed to exertion; and tohim, therefore, Bernard hastened, rousing the people of France andGermany as he travelled through. The frozen reluctance of the monarchcould not withstand the fiery earnestness of the monk. Conrad is said tohave dissolved into tears at the discourse, and eagerly accepted thecross which was offered. While in Germany Bernard showed his liberalityof thought--rare in those days--by sternly rebuking the ignorance of amonk who was denouncing the Jews as the cause of the recent calamities. At the council of Vezelay (in Burgundy), held in 1146, Bernard'seloquence was as exciting in its influence on his hearers as that ofPope Urban had been on a previous occasion. As the speaker, at the endof his oration, held up the cross which was to be the badge of theenterprise, Louis VII. Threw himself at the feet of his subject, and thewhole assembly thronged round him, shouting the old war-cry, "It isGod's will!" Bernard distributed to thousands of eager hands all thecrosses which he had brought with him; and finding these insufficientfor the demand, took off the Benedictine robe which he wore, and tore itinto cross-shaped pieces. So impressed were the chiefs of the crusadingarmy with his power over the people, that at a subsequent assembly theyeven offered the command of the expedition to him--an unwarlike monk. 

He declined the post on the ground of unfitness, but had he accepted it, the issue of the crusades might have been different from what it was. His authority would at least have kept in check the discords, perfidies, and excesses to which he, probably with justice, afterward attributedthe failure of the enterprise. From these causes, together with a fatalincapacity on the part of the French and German generals, the secondcrusade resulted in nothing but the wholesale massacre of the Christianarmies by the Turks. Bernard, who had predicted the success of theexpedition, was deeply distressed at the unfortunate result; the moreas, with great injustice, the weight of popular indignation fell uponhim and seriously damaged his influence. This disappointment, however, did not discourage him, and only served to concentrate his attention forthe rest of his life on the more immediate duties of his calling. 

These he had never neglected, even while immersed in religious politics. By advice and example he greatly reformed the discipline of monasticlife. He continually preached in his own convent; and, either personallyor through agents, is said to have founded upward of sixty monasteriesin alliance with Clairvaux. Among them the Hospice of Mount St. Bernard, in Switzerland, has distinguished itself by loving deeds worthy of itsfounder. Bernard was an eminent theologian, both in theory and practice, and many of his works are extant. They disclose very forcibly his strongintellect and warm heart. Many of his opinions were most liberal for hisage, and he rejected several tenets, on which the Roman Catholic Churchhas since insisted, with a decision which would have ranked him amongheretics had he lived a few centuries later. He manifested, nevertheless, a want of freedom in his conduct toward the great Abelard, who in that age represented the true Protestant spirit of inquiry intothe received doctrines of the Church. Against this daring thinkerBernard unjustifiably employed the weight of authority which hepossessed, to silence what he deemed a dangerous boldness of opinion. Toward Abelard personally, however, he displayed nothing but generousand respectful courtesy, even in the heat of controversy; and it issatisfactory to know that a cordial interchange of kindly feeling passedbetween these two eminent men long before their deaths. 

Many of Bernard's wise and good deeds are recorded, which cannot benoticed here. We may refer to but one, which greatly influenced theworld for centuries after his death; namely, the sanction and aid whichhe gave to the establishment of the Knight-Templars, a body ofsoldier-priests, who devoted their lives to the preservation of theHoly Places and the protection of pilgrims. Had they faithfully adheredto the statutes which he drew up for their conduct, the exhibition ofzeal which they were designed to make might have been as blessed toChristendom as their arrogance was cursed. 

A few years before his death, Bernard had the gratification of seeingone of his own disciples raised to the papal chair, as Pope EugeniusIII. The new pontiff recognized his master's authority no less thanbefore his accession, and Bernard's counsel and influence wererepeatedly used in his behalf. But the over-activity of the good abbottoo soon decayed the slender strength which his firm will had wrested, as it were, from death in a hand-to-hand struggle that lasted for morethan forty years. Always sickly, frequently reduced to the brink of thegrave, yet perpetually at work, his constitution gave way in 1155, atthe age of sixty-three. His last act was worthy of his life. He was on adying-bed when a discord broke out between the nobles and the burghersof the town of Mentz. Bernard rose, and once more entered the arena ofstrife with the olive-branch of peace in his hand. The proud barons andthe angry citizens listened humbly to his gentle words, and shrank fromthe mild glances of those eyes which his biographers scarcely evermention without calling _dove-like_. The turbulence of passion washushed, and Bernard returned to die. The filial tears of his disciplesat Clairvaux, and the regrets of all the nation, followed him to thegrave. About twenty years after his death a decree of canonizationawarded him the title of Saint, which, considering how it has beendisgraced by unholy bearers, will not seem so fitly to recognize hismerit as that name which the reverence of the Church has furtherbestowed on him--the _last_ of the Fathers. 

FREDERICK BARBAROSSA

By Lady LAMB

(1121-1190)

It seems almost incredible that no history should exist of the childhoodand early life of an emperor of such note as "Barbarossa;" yet, in spiteof most diligent search, we have been compelled almost to renounce oneof the most pleasing tasks of a biographer, which consists in makingacquaintance with a hero in his infancy, and through childhood and youthfollowing his career to fame and glory. So far as we have been able todiscover, no trace, except a few dry data, exists of "Frederick of theRed Beard, " until we find him setting out with his uncle, Conrad III. , in the spring of 1147, to join the second crusade against the Saracens. The date of his birth is given as 1121, his father being Duke Frederickof Hohenstauffen (surnamed "le Borgne") and his mother Judith, daughterof Henry the Black, Duke of Bavaria; opinions are divided on thesubject of his birthplace, some writers mentioning the castle ofVeitsberg, near Ravensburg, others the town of Weiblingen, in Nuremburg;but since the main interest of his history does not begin until hissuccession to the paternal duchy of Swabia, and his departure for theHoly Land in 1147; his marriage with Adelaide, daughter of Theobald, Margrave of Vohburg, in 1149; and finally his accession to the imperialthrone in 1152, we must resign ourselves to silence on the subject ofhis earlier years, and take up his history from the death of ConradIII. , and that monarch's choice of him as a successor, to the exclusionof his own son. 

[Illustration: Frederick Barbarossa. ]

From every possible point of view, Frederick of Hohenstauffen justifiedhis uncle's choice: endowed with the most brilliant qualities of heartand mind, he had already earned the suffrages of a great portion of hisnew subjects by the manner in which he had distinguished himself duringthe above-mentioned campaign in the Holy Land; moreover, as the son ofFrederick of Hohenstauffen and Judith, daughter of Henry the Black, Dukeof Bavaria, Ghibelline by his father and Guelph on his mother's side, there seemed good ground for the hope that in him might terminate thedifferences of the two contending factions. The election diet wasaccordingly assembled at Frankfort, and it being there decided toconfirm Conrad's choice and to invest Frederick with the imperialinsignia, he was proclaimed King of the Romans and of Germany, andanointed at Aix-la-Chapelle on March 5, 1152, the ceremony beingperformed by Arnoul de Gueldre, Archbishop of Cologne. Not lightly oreagerly did the new emperor accept these dignities, but after mature andcareful consideration of his capacity to undertake the responsibility ofguiding Germany through shoals and quicksands which had little bylittle enveloped the fair countries won three hundred years before bythe valiant Charlemagne. 

Tidings of ever-recurring disturbances determined Frederick to make anexpedition into Italy, as soon as affairs in Germany would admit of hisabsence; but there was much to be done first--many princes to be dealtwith, who, from different motives viewing his election withdissatisfaction, would take immediate advantage of his departure tobring all the horrors of civil war into his dominions. Bavaria, forexample, had been wrested from Henry the Lion, Duke of Saxony, duringhis minority, by Conrad III. , and now he conjured Frederick, with tearsand threats, to restore it to him. This, by dint of much diplomacy, Frederick effected, and the result was that for some years he gained astanch ally, instead of a designing enemy. 

Having decided this quarrel and several others, into which we need notenter, Frederick prepared for that first expedition into Italy which, aswe have seen, he had resolved on from the commencement of his reign. 

At the head of a numerous army he passed into Switzerland, and encampednear the lake of Constance; when, under the banner of Count vonLenzburg, the inhabitants of the three "cents" or cantons of Schwyz, Uri, and Unterwalden came to do homage and offer their feudal service inthe field. At the same time, and while still engaged in assembling theforces with which to march into Italy, deputies from the city of Lodiarrived, and throwing themselves at his feet, besought his interferenceagainst the oppressions of the Milanese, who had declared for AdrianIV. , and whose town was indeed the very hot-bed of the papal faction. The emperor instantly sent letters commanding the Milanese to make fullreparation to their unfortunate neighbors; but on perusal of his beheststhey tore the missives in a thousand pieces, and flung them in the facesof the messengers, sending back by them as their sole answer an opendefiance of his authority. Enraged at this insolence, Frederick crossedthe Alps, but, too prudent to risk an immediate attack on Milan, strongly fortified and well garrisoned as it was, he sought rather toweaken it through the other towns with which it was in league, andaccordingly besieged in turn Rosate, Cairo, and Asti, which all fellinto his hands, and ended with the total demolition of the city ofTortona, which he reduced to ashes, afterward even levelling the groundupon which it had stood. This last victory proved the accuracy ofBarbarossa's judgment, as regarded the remainder of the fifteen towns ofthe so-called "Lombard League, " most of which, intimidated by hisenergetic measures, sent ambassadors to do homage on their account. Henow seized the iron crown of Lombardy; was crowned at Pavia and again atMonza, after which he entered into negotiations with Adrian IV. For theperformance of the coronation ceremony at Rome. 

We now come to the second marriage of our hero, when Beatrix, the onlychild and heiress of Reinold of Burgundy, became his bride; and an echoof the old romantic halo which surrounds that incident in Barbarossa'slife reaches us, even in this prosaic age, as we picture to ourselvesthe gallant, handsome Frederick riding off with his trusty knights todeliver the fair heiress of Count Reinold from the gloomy prison inwhich her uncle, Count William, had confined her in order to appropriatethe rich domains of "Franche-Comté. " Over hill and dale sped thechivalrous band till the grim castle was reached; a halt was ordered, and an envoy sent to summon Count William to yield both his fortress andthe fair prisoner. At first the count meditated resistance, but onlooking out and investigating the number of Frederick's followers, hedecided to submit, and congratulated himself on his determination whenFrederick's messenger said, on behalf of his master, that if the castlewere not given freely it would be taken by force, the fair Beatrixreleased, and her gloomy prison walls be prevented from hiding any otherlike iniquity by being razed to the ground. Prudence, we hear, is thebetter part of valor, and evidently Count William shared in the opinion, for we learn that he promptly let down the drawbridge, over whichFrederick and his followers passed, and whence they presently issued, bearing in their midst the quondam prisoner, the lovely Beatrix, whoseeyes, moist with tears of gratitude, looked trustingly in the handsomeface of her deliverer. So now, away, away to the old church atWurtzburg! deck the streets, ring the bells, bid priests don theirvestments and burghers their best, and fall in merrily with the gayprocession that comes to do honor to Barbarossa and his fair bride!

Thus far the little romance of our emperor and Beatrix; now to return tothe sober and solemn statement of facts. During 1157 and the next year, Frederick busied himself with a campaign against Poland, and compelledBoleslaw, the king, to acknowledge the supremacy of the head of theGerman Empire, and to take the oath of fealty, barefoot and with hisnaked sword hung round his neck; after which he bestowed the kingdomupon Wladislaw of Bohemia, whom he had appointed regent of the Germanstates during his absence, and whom he now took this opportunity toreward. New disputes began to arise between Pope Adrian and Frederick;and when at Besançon some indiscreet remarks of His Holiness as tohaving "conferred the imperial crown" on, and "accorded it by favor" toFrederick, were mentioned, that monarch waited no longer, but collecteda fresh army, and marched into Italy to chastise the pontiff, who, onhearing of his approach, and scared at the prospect of such a calamity, hastened to explain away his words as best he might. The emperoraccepted his excuses, but as he was so far on the road, determined toattack Milan, whose inhabitants had increased the anger he already feltfor them by rebuilding Tortona (which, as we know, he had totallydestroyed), and expelling the inhabitants of Lodi from their dwellingsfor having called him to mediate on the subject of their wrongs. With100, 000 men (for almost all of the Lombard cities had, either willinglyor by force, contributed their militia) and 15, 000 cavalry, he advancedtoward Milan and laid siege to it. The inhabitants made a most obstinateresistance, and were at length only vanquished by the impossibility offinding food for the vast population within the walls. A capitulationwas effected, by which the emperor contented himself with very moderateconditions, the most severe being that which condemned the city to theloss of her privileges; but when the chief nobles came to deliver thekeys, barefooted and with every token of humility, he forgot theirformer insolence, and only required, in return for his clemency, arenewal of the oath of fealty and their promise to rebuild the town ofLodi. 

To put an end to these ever-recurring disputes Frederick called togethera diet at Roncaglia, to which each of the Italian towns was commanded tosend its representative; the four most learned jurists from theuniversity of Bologna being also requested to attend, for the purpose ofdrawing up a document which should conclusively define the relationsbetween himself, as head of the empire, and the vassals and imperialcities of Italy. But when the learned quartet had heard all the pointsof dispute, and were in possession of the facts, their decision gavesuch almost limitless power to Frederick that several of the towns, andmore especially Milan, refused to abide by it and prepared for furtherresistance. 

Frederick had not been idle all the time these schisms were raging; onthe contrary, he had made a third expedition to Italy, from which he hadbeen compelled to return, leaving the flower of his army lying dead, stricken down with pestilence. The next six years were spent in settlingvarious disputes and complications which had arisen in Germany duringhis absence; in causing his son Henry, a child of only five years ofage, to be crowned at Aix-la-Chapelle; and in keeping some sort of checkon his vassal, Henry the Lion, who, now that he had increased his powerby a marriage with Matilda, daughter of Henry II. Of England, was nounimportant person in the empire, and moreover one extremely liable tobecome sulky and unmanageable if he had a chance, or the smallestgrievance to complain of. 

The news now spread through Europe of the reconquest of Jerusalem bySaladin. These tidings effaced every other thought; the new Pope, Urban, forgot the thunders of the Church which he had been keeping, like asecond sword of Damocles, suspended over Frederick's head; the emperorburied his resentment; a general peace was concluded, and Barbarossa, then in his seventieth year, gave the regency of his dominions to hisson Henry, and joyfully taking up the cross--accompanied by his sonFrederick, the flower of German chivalry, and an army of 100, 000men--marched by way of Vienna to Presburg, and thence through Hungary, Servia, and Roumelia. 

Isaac Angelus, the Greek emperor, who had promised to furnish the Germantroops with provisions and assist Frederick in all ways, with theproverbial duplicity of his nation, broke his word, harassed him on hismarch, and threw Count von Diez, his ambassador, into prison; whichtreachery greatly incensed the emperor, and caused him to givepermission to his soldiers to plunder; the results being that thecountry soon bore sad traces of their passage, and that the twoimportant towns of Manioava and Philippopolis were completely destroyed. This reduced Isaac, professedly, to a state of contrition; and whenBarbarossa advanced toward Constantinople, the Greek emperor, anxious toconciliate him, placed his entire fleet at his disposal for thetransport of the German army. Scarcely had they entered Asia Minorbefore Isaac's good resolutions abandoned him, and leaguing himself withanother faithless ally of Frederick, the Sultan of Iconium, they besetthe German troops, and did everything they possibly could to make themarch more difficult; however, though they tried both fair means andfoul, their evil practices resulted in their own defeat, and theOriental Christians soon found they had every reason to congratulatethemselves upon the arrival of such a champion. 

The fanaticism of a Turkish prisoner, who, acting as guide, wilfullysacrificed his life in order to mislead Frederick's army, involved theGermans in almost endless troubles by taking them amidst pathlessmountains, where the horrors of starvation and the entire lack of wateradded yet more miseries to their condition. Brave where all weredespairing, encouraging his men with cheering words and hopeful looks, their gallant old leader rode on, and footsore, half-starved, thirsty, and wretched as they were, the men tried, though tears of agony filledtheir eyes, to raise the notes of their Swabian war-song to please him. Frederick, Duke of Swabia, hastened forward with half the remainingarmy, and gaining a victory over a body of Turks, pushed on till he cameto the town of Iconium; when, scattering the enemy before him, he putthe inhabitants to the sword, gained a great booty, and, more than all, food, drink, and rest for his weary men. 

A body of Turks had meanwhile crept round the town, and surrounded thecolumns which were advancing under Barbarossa; worn out with sorrow, hunger, and thirst, even his courage gave way for one moment, as hethought that this band of Turks had only, in all probability, reachedhim by passing over the dead bodies of his brave son and the gallantSwabians; the aged monarch bowed his head, and the scorching tears ofrage ran down his cheeks; then dashing his hand across his eyes, hecried: "Christ still lives! Christ conquers!" and shouting to hisfollowers, they fell on the Turks like lions; Barbarossa with his ownhand sending many a one to his last sleep. Then they marched forward toIconium, where rest and plenty awaited them, and where the old emperordoubtless found much cause for thankfulness when he threw himself intothe arms of his brave son. 

At Iconium the army stayed for some time, the soldiers being in sad needof repose; and then starting afresh, continued as far as the littleriver Saleph; when, the road being encumbered with cattle, and theemperor impatient of delay, he commanded his men to cross the stream andplunged into the water. Here this hero of many combats, this brave andwise king, was destined to end his long life in an obscure river, ofwhich he had probably never heard; the current was too strong for hishorse, and, nobly as the animal battled against it, both rider and steedwere drowned. 

The Germans, almost frantic with grief and dismay, made frenzied effortsto regain the body of their leader; and, when at last they succeeded, they conveyed it with much loving care to Antioch, where it was buriedin St. Peter's Church. 

With the history of the crusade after the death of our hero, we havenothing to do further than to say that his son, Frederick, took thechief command and led the brave followers of his gallant father until apestilence occasioned his death at Acre, in the following year, when theremnant of the once formidable army returned to Germany. 

[Illustration: The Death of Barbarossa. ]

How Barbarossa still lingers in the hearts of his people even now, whenall these hundreds of years divide his time from theirs, is shown bya dozen legends. Most of these profess an utter disbelief in the deathof their loved emperor; one of them tells how, in a rocky cleft of theKlyfhaüser Mountains, Barbarossa still sleeps calmly and peacefully; hesits before a marble table into which and through which his red beardhas grown; his head is bowed on his folded hands, and though he fromtime to time lifts it and opens his eyes, it is but to shut them againquickly, for the right time of his awakening is not come; he has seenthe ravens flying round the mountain, and his long sleep will only endwhen their black forms are no longer visible, when he will step forthand avenge the wrongs of the oppressed. 

Another story says that he is lying in the Untersberg near Salzburg, andthat when the dead pear-tree which, thrice cut down, plants itselfafresh, shall bud forth and blossom, the gallant "Rothbart" will comeout into the bright daylight, hang his shield on the pink-floweredbough, throw down his gauntlet as a gage to all evil-doers, and, aidedby the good and chivalrous few who will still be inhabitants of this badworld, will vanquish cruelty and wickedness, and realize the dream of agolden age they have for so long anticipated. 

RICHARD COEUR DE LION

(1157-1199)

[Illustration: Richard Coeur de Lion. ]

Richard I. , King of England, surnamed Coeur de Lion, was the third sonof Henry II. And his queen, Eleanor, and was born at Oxford, in theking's manor house there, afterward the monastery of the White Friars, in September, 1157. By the treaty of Montmirail, concluded on January 6, 1169, between Henry and Louis VII. Of France, it was stipulated that theduchy of Aquitaine should be made over to Richard, who should do homageand fealty for it to Louis, and should espouse Adelais, or Alice, thatking's youngest daughter; and in 1170 King Henry, being taken ill atDomfront, in Maine, made a will, by which he confirmed this arrangement. In 1173 Richard, with his younger brother, Geoffrey, and their mother, joined their eldest brother, Henry, in his first rebellion against theirfather. On the submission of the rebels, in September, 1174, Richardreceived two castles in Poitou, with half the revenue of that earldom, and, along with Geoffrey, did homage and swore fealty to their father. Nevertheless Richard continued from this time to hold the government ofthe whole of Aquitaine, and to be usually styled, as before, Duke ofAquitaine, or Duke of Poitou (which were considered as the same title), although it appears that King Henry now looked upon the arrangementsmade at the treaty of Montmirail as annulled, and that dukedom to haveactually reverted to himself. In 1183 Richard refused, when commanded byhis father, to do homage for Aquitaine to his elder brother, Henry; onwhich his brothers Henry and Geoffrey invaded the duchy, and a new warensued between them and their father, who was assisted by Richard, which, however, was terminated by the death of the eldest of the threebrothers in June of that same year, when Richard became his father'sheir-apparent. But at an interview between King Henry and PhilipAugustus, now King of France, in November, 1188, Richard, apparentlyimpelled by a suspicion that his father intended to leave his crown tohis younger brother, John, and also professing to resent his father'sconduct in withholding from him his affianced bride, the French king'ssister, suddenly declared himself the liegeman of Philip for all hisfather's dominions in France; whence arose a new war, in which Philipand Richard speedily compelled King Henry to yield to all their demands, and a treaty to that effect was about to be signed when King Henry died, on July 6, 1189. Richard was present at the burial of his father in thechoir of the convent of Fontevrault. 

Notwithstanding his apprehensions, real or affected, of his brotherJohn, Richard made no particular haste to come over to England, but, contenting himself with ordering his mother, Queen Eleanor, to beliberated from confinement, and to be invested with the regency of thatkingdom, he first proceeded to Rouen, where he was formally acknowledgedas Duke of Normandy on July 20th, and it was August 13th before hearrived at Portsmouth (or, as others say, at Southampton). Hiscoronation, from which the commencement of his reign is dated, tookplace in Westminster Abbey on September 3d. It was on occasion of thatceremony that a furious riot broke out among the Jews in London, whichwas in the course of the next six months renewed in most of the greattowns throughout the kingdom. At York, in March, 1190, a body of 500Jews, with their wives and children, having taken refuge in the castle, found no other way of saving themselves from their assailants than byfirst cutting the throats of the women and children and then stabbingone another. 

A short time before his father's death Richard, and his then friend, Philip Augustus, had, as it was expressed, taken the cross, that is tosay, had publicly vowed to proceed to the Holy Land, to assist inrecovering from the infidels the city and kingdom of Jerusalem, whichhad recently (1187) fallen into the hands of the great Saladin. Themighty expedition, in which all the principal nations of WesternChristendom now joined, for the accomplishment of this object is knownby the name of the Third Crusade. Leaving the government of his kingdomduring his absence in the hands of William Longchamp, Bishop of Ely andchancellor, and Hugh Pudsey, Bishop of Durham and justiciary, Richardtook his departure from England on December 11th of this same year, 1189, and proceeding to Normandy, united his forces with those ofPhilip Augustus in the plain of Vezelay on July 1, 1190. The two friendsproceeded together at the head of an army of more than 100, 000 men asfar as Lyons, where they separated on the 31st; Philip taking the roadto Genoa, Richard that to Marseilles, where he was to meet his fleet. The fleet, however, not arriving so soon as was expected, Richard in hisimpatience hired thirty small vessels for the conveyance of himself andhis suite, and, sailing for Naples, arrived there on August 28th. OnSeptember 8th he proceeded by sea to Salerno, where he remained till the23d, and then sailed for Messina, which port his fleet had reached abouta week before, with the army, which it had taken on board at Marseilles. The French king had also arrived at Messina a few days before hisbrother of England. 

The two kings remained together at Messina till the end of March, 1191. During their stay Richard compelled Tancred, who had usurped the crownof Sicily, to relinquish the dower of his sister Joan, the widow ofWilliam, the late sovereign, and to pay him besides forty thousandounces of gold. In return he betrothed his nephew, Arthur, the son ofhis next brother, Geoffrey, to Tancred's infant daughter, and formed aleague offensive and defensive with the Sicilian king--a connectionwhich afterward cost him dear, for it was the source of the enmity ofthe Emperor Henry VI. , who had married Constantia, the aunt of William, and claimed the throne of Sicily in right of his wife. After the disputewith Tancred had been settled, the latent rivalry of Richard and Philipbroke out in a quarrel about the Princess Adelais, whom her brotherPhilip insisted that Richard should espouse, in conformity with theirbetrothment, now that his father no longer lived to oppose their union. But if Richard had ever cared anything for the French princess, thatattachment had now been obliterated by another, which he had some yearsbefore formed for Berengaria, the beautiful daughter of Sancho VI. (styled the Wise), King of Navarre; in fact he had by this time sent hismother Eleanor to her father's court to solicit that lady in marriage, and, his proposals having been accepted, the two were now actually ontheir way to join him. In these circumstances Philip found himselfobliged to recede from his demand; and the matter was arranged by anagreement that Richard should pay a sum of ten thousand marks, in fiveyearly instalments, and restore Adelais, who had previously beenconducted into England, and the places of strength that had been givenalong with her as her marriage portion, when he should have returnedfrom Palestine. 

Richard, having sent his mother home to England, sailed from Messina onApril 7th, at the head of a fleet of about two hundred ships, of whichfifty-three were large vessels of the sort styled galleys; his sister, the queen dowager of Sicily, and the Princess Berengaria accompanyinghim. The King of France had set sail about a week before. Severalmonths, however, elapsed before Richard reached the Holy Land, havingbeen detained by an attack which he made upon the island of Cyprus;Isaac, the king, or emperor, of which had ill used the crews of some ofthe English ships that had been driven upon his coasts in a storm. Richard took Limasol, the capital, by assault; and that blow was soonfollowed by the complete submission of Isaac and the surrender of thewhole island. Isaac was put into confinement, and remained a captivetill his death in 1195. Meanwhile the island of Cyprus was made over byRichard, in 1192, to Guy of Lusignan, upon his resignation of the nowmerely titular royalty of Jerusalem to his rival Henry of Champagne andGuy's posterity reigned in that island till the year 1458. 

Having married Berengaria at Limasol, Richard set sail from Cyprus, onJune 4th (1191), with a fleet now described as consisting of thirteenlarge ships called busses, fifty galleys, and a hundred transports; andon the 10th he reached the camp of the crusaders assembled before thefortress of Acre, the siege of which had already occupied them not muchless than two years, and had cost the lives, it is said of nearly twohundred thousand of the assailants. But the presence of the Englishking, although he was suffering from severe illness, and had to becarried to the trenches on a litter, immediately inspired so much newvigor into the operations of the Christian army that, on July 12th, theplace surrendered, and Saladin, who had been harassing the besiegersfrom the neighboring mountains, withdrew, in conformity with the termsof capitulation. This great event, however, was immediately followed byan open rupture between Richard and King Philip, whose rivalry hadalready exhibited itself in a variety of ways, and more particularly inthe support given by Richard to the claim of Guy of Lusignan, and byPhilip to that of Conrad of Montferrat to the vacant crown of Jerusalem. Philip, in fact, took his departure from Palestine on the last day ofJuly, leaving only ten thousand men, under the command of the Duke ofBurgundy. 

[Illustration: Richard at the Battle of Arsur. ]

Richard performed prodigies of valor in the Holy Land, but, although asignal defeat of Saladin on September 7th at Arsur was followed by thecapture of Jaffa and some other places of less importance, Jerusalem, which was the main object of the crusade, so far from being taken wasnot even attacked. Jaffa, however, after it had again fallen into thehands of Saladin, was recovered by the impetuous valor of the Englishking. At last, on October 9, 1192, Richard set sail from Acre in asingle vessel, his fleet, having on board his wife, his sister, and thedaughter of the captive King of Cyprus, having put to sea a few daysbefore. The three ladies got safe to Sicily; but the first land the kingmade was the island of Corfu, which he took about a month to reach. Heleft Corfu about the middle of November with three coasting-vesselswhich he hired there; but after being a few days at sea he was compelledby a storm to land on the coast of Istria, at a spot between the townsof Aquileia and Venice. After narrowly escaping first from falling atGoritz into the hands of Maynard, a nephew of Conrad of Montferrat (towhose murder in Palestine Richard, upon very insufficient evidence, wassuspected to be an accessory), and then at Friesach from Maynard'sbrother, Frederick of Batesow, he was taken on December 21st, at Erperg, near Vienna, by Leopold, Duke of Austria (a brother-in-law of Isaac ofCyprus), and was by him consigned to close confinement in the castle ofTyernsteign, under the care of his vassal, Baron Haldmar. In the courseof a few days, however, by an arrangement between Leopold and theEmperor Henry VI. , the captive king was transferred to the custody ofthe latter, who shut him up in a castle in the Tyrol, where he was boundwith chains, and guarded by a band of men who surrounded him day andnight with drawn swords. In this state he remained about three months. Meanwhile, intelligence of his having fallen into the hands of theemperor had reached England, and excited the strongest sensation amongall ranks of the people. It is sufficient to mention that during hisabsence a struggle for supremacy had for some time been carried on withvarying success between the king's brother, John, and Longchamp, thechancellor, who had acquired the entire regency, and had also beenappointed papal legate for England and Scotland; and that this hadresulted, in October, 1191, in the deposition of Longchamp, by a councilof the nobility held in St Paul's Churchyard, London; after which heleft the country, and although he soon ventured to return, ultimatelydeemed it most prudent to retire to Normandy. The supreme authority wasthus left for a time in the hands of John, who, as soon as he learnedthe news of his brother's captivity, openly repaired to Paris, and didhomage to the French king for the English dominions on the Continent. 

[Illustration: Richard Coeur de Lion. ]

On returning to England, John raised an army to support his pretensions, while his confederate, Philip, took up arms in his behalf in France, and, entering Normandy, overran a great part of that duchy, althoughRouen, the capital, was preserved principally by the exertions of theEarl of Essex, lately one of Richard's companions in the Holy Land. InEngland, also, John met with a general opposition to his usurpation ofthe regal authority, which soon compelled him to conclude an armisticewith a council of regency that had been appointed by the prelates andbarons. This was the position of affairs when Longchamp, havingdiscovered Richard's place of confinement, after much solicitationprevailed upon the emperor to allow the royal prisoner to be broughtbefore the diet at Hagenau, where, accordingly, he made his appearanceon April 13, 1193, and defended himself with so much eloquence againstthe several charges made against him in regard to Tancred and thekingdom of Sicily, to his conquest of Cyprus, and to the murder ofConrad of Montferrat, that Henry found himself compelled by the generalsentiment of the diet to order his chains to be immediately struck off, and to agree to enter upon negotiations for his ransom. Longchamp wasimmediately despatched to England with a letter to the council ofregency, and the result was, that, notwithstanding the insidious effortsboth of John and his friend, Philip of France, to prevent theconclusion of the treaty, Richard was at last liberated, on February 4, 1194, after seventy thousand marks had been actually paid to theemperor, and hostages given for the payment of thirty thousand more. TheEnglish king had also engaged to release both Isaac of Cyprus and hisdaughter, and he had besides, at the persuasion, it is said, of hismother, Eleanor, the more effectually to conciliate Henry, formallyresigned his crown into the hand of the emperor, who immediatelyrestored it to him to be held as a fief of the empire, and burdened witha yearly feudal payment to his superior lord of five thousand pounds. This strange transaction rests on the authority of the contemporaryannalist Hoveden. Richard, descending the Rhine as far as Cologne, proceeded thence across the country to Antwerp, and, embarking there onboard his own fleet, landed at Sandwich on March 13th. 

Most of John's strongholds had been wrested from his hands before hisbrother's return, and now the rest immediately surrendered and hehimself fled the country, and with his principal adviser, Hugh, Bishopof Coventry, having been charged with high treason, and not appearing toplead after forty days, was outlawed and divested of all hispossessions. 

Meanwhile it was thought necessary that Richard should be crowned again, and that ceremony was accordingly performed at Winchester by Hubert, Archbishop of Canterbury, on April 17th. Then, leaving Hubert guardianof England and grand justiciary, on May 2d, following, having, with hischaracteristic activity employed almost every moment since his arrivalin raising an army and procuring funds for its maintenance by all sortsof exactions and the most unscrupulous use of every means in his power, he again set sail from Portsmouth, his whole soul bent on chastising theKing of France. Owing to adverse winds he was a fortnight in reachingBarfleur, in Normandy, where, as soon as he landed, he was met by hisbrother John, who professed contrition and implored his pardon, which, on the intercession of his mother, Eleanor, was granted. Richard nowmarched against Philip, and several engagements took place between them, in most of which the English king was successful. But the war, though itlasted for some years, was distinguished by few remarkable events. Atruce for one year was agreed to on July 23d, and although hostilitieswere resumed some time before the expiration of that term, a peace wasagain concluded in the end of the following year, which lasted till thebeginning of 1197. 

All this time Hubert, assisted by Longchamp, who had been restored tohis office of chancellor, is said to have presided over the governmentat home with great ability. Hubert had been educated under the famousGlanvil, and he seems, in the spirit of his master, to have exertedhimself in re-establishing and maintaining the authority of the law, bywhich alone, even if he did no more, he must have materially contributedto the revival of industry. The large sums, however, which he wasobliged to raise by taxation to meet the expenses of the war, in theexhausted state to which the country had been reduced provoked muchpopular dissatisfaction; and the third year of the king's absence inparticular was distinguished by the remarkable commotion excited byWilliam Fitz-Osbert, styled Longbeard, a citizen of London, who isadmitted to have possessed both eloquence and learning, and whose wholecharacter and proceedings might not improbably, if he had had his ownhistorian, have assumed a very different complexion from what has beengiven to him. Longbeard, who acquired the names of the Advocate and Kingof the Poor, is affirmed to have had above fifty thousand of the lowerorders associated with him by oaths which bound them to followwhithersoever he led. When an attempt was made to apprehend him by twoof the wealthier citizens, he drew his knife and stabbed one of them, named Geoffrey, to the heart, and then took refuge in the church of StMary-le-Bow in Cheapside, the tower of which he and his followersfortified, and held for three days, when they were at last (April 7, 1196), dislodged by fire being set to the building. Fitz-Osbert wasfirst dragged at a horse's tail to the Tower, and then to the Elms inWest Smithfield, where he was hanged, with nine of his followers. Thepeople, however, long continued to regard him as a martyr. 

The war between Richard and Philip broke out again in 1197, and in thecourse of this campaign Richard had the gratification of capturing theBishop of Beauvais, a personage whom he had reason to regard as a maininstigator of the severities and indignities which he had sustained atthe hands of the emperor. The bishop was taken armed cap-à-pie andfighting, and when Pope Celestine recommended him to the clemency ofRichard as his son, the English king sent his holiness the bishop's coatof mail, with the following verse of Scripture attached to it: "Thishave we found; know now whether it be thy son's coat, or no. " This sameyear, too, finished the career of the Emperor Henry, who, in his lastmoments, is said to have expressed the extremest remorse for the mannerin which he had treated the great champion of the Cross. Richard's otherenemy, Leopold, Duke of Austria, had been killed by a fall from hishorse two years before. 

A truce, as usual, at the end of the year, again suspended hostilitiesfor a space. The war was renewed on its termination, and in thiscampaign (of the year 1198) Richard gained one of his greatest victoriesnear Gisors, when Philip in his flight fell into the river Epte, and wasnearly drowned. After this, by the intercession of the Pope's legate, atruce was concluded between the two kings for five years, and they nevermet again in fight; although they probably would, notwithstanding thetruce, if both had lived. But on March 26th in the following year, 1199, as Richard was engaged in reducing the castle of Chaluz, the strongholdof one of his Aquitanian vassals, Vidomar, Viscount of Limoges, who itseems had refused to surrender a treasure found on his estate, to whichthe king laid claim in right of his feudal superiority, Coeur de Lionwas struck in the left shoulder by an arrow, aimed from the rampart ofthe castle by a youth named Bertrand de Gurdun. The wound would not havebeen dangerous but for the mismanagement of the surgeon in his attemptsto extract the arrow-head, which had broken off in the flesh. As it was, Richard lived only till Tuesday, April 16th. The shot was a fatal one inevery way; in the fury into which the wound of the king threw thebesieging army the castle was taken by storm, and all the persons foundin it were immediately hanged, as some authorities say, by the king'sorders, with the exception only of Gurdun. He was brought into thepresence of his dying victim, when Richard, under the impulse ofgenerosity or compunction, gave him his liberty, with a hundredshillings to take him home; but after the king's death he was flayedalive, and then hanged, by order of Marchadee, the leader of theBrabantine mercenaries serving in Richard's army. 

The character of Richard is, of course, not to be judged withoutreference to the general manners of the age in which he lived. It isprobable enough that there was hardly an excess, either of violence orlicentiousness, into which his impetuous temperament did notoccasionally precipitate him; but he seems to have had nothing base ormalignant in his composition; and that he was as capable of acts ofextraordinary generosity and disinterestedness as of excesses of brutalfury or profligacy. Of the courage and strength of will proper to hisrace, he had his full share, with more than his share of their strengthof thew and sinew; and his intellectual powers, both natural andacquired, were also of a high order. He was renowned in his own day notonly as beyond all dispute the stoutest and most gallant of livingheroes, but as likewise occupying a place in the foremost rank of thosewho excelled in wit, in eloquence, and in song. 

ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI[6]

 [Footnote 6: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By GEORGE PARSONS LATHROP, LL. D. 

(1182-1226)

[Illustration: St. Francis of Assisi. ]

One reason why those beings who are known to us as saints are so littleunderstood is, that their lives are usually written in one of two ways, both equally unsuited to popular appreciation. Either they are presentedin a dry, bare, matter-of-fact manner, which requires all the knowledgeand sympathy of the initiated to give it vital meaning; or else they aresurrounded with an appanage of portents, visions, miracles, legends--spread before the reader without discrimination orexplanation--which confuse the mind and soul, and absolutely repel allwho do not share the faith of the subject and the biographer. 

As a matter of fact, no Catholic is obliged to accept these legends andtraditions literally, except in those cases where the authorities ofthe Church, after a scrutiny, which is always deliberate and searching, declare that a miracle was wrought. But every Catholic, by the verynature of his belief in the actual presence of the Divinity among men, must acknowledge and maintain that miracles have been wrought by thatsupernatural power constantly, ever since apostolic times; that they mayand do occur, through the same power, at any moment to-day; and alwayswill occur. In the ordinary gossip of the world, men hold to the maximthat if reports are current, all pointing to one particular fact, theremust be truth in them. "Where there is so much smoke there is sure to besome fire. " We should at least accord the same, if not a greater, degreeof probability and of credence to stories of the saints which have beencarefully, competently examined. "The love of the marvellous, " saysChavin de Malin, in his book on St. Francis, "is but a remnant of ouroriginal greatness. Man was created to contemplate the wonders of theDivinity; and, until he clearly beholds them, he is borne onward by aninterior desire to love and admire everything which bears the slightestresemblance to them. . . . _A person utterly ignorant of the practices of aspiritual life can no more do justice to the life of a saint, than ablind man could adjudicate on the merits or demerits of a painting. _" Headds that, with regard to the religious occupations of the Middle Ages, "the positive bounds of history could not be kept, digressions were madeon all sides, and thus around the true history of saints, like a poeticwreath, wonder and amazement were both entwined. Christianity has hadits denominated legendary tales, which invariably are based on truth, and should not be rejected by the historian without serious reflectionand profound study. "

There is still another way of regarding the saints; the purely materialview, which denies the immediate action of supernatural power upon thedetails of natural daily life, mental or physical. This view--or rather, this abstention from seeing--is futile; because, without a particle ofactual proof to sustain its negative, it refuses to admit possibilitiesof truth to which the really comprehensive and perceptive mind mustalways hold itself open. 

Saint Francis was born at Assisi, in Umbria, in 1182; near the close ofthe twelfth century, which has been called a "century of mud and blood, when darkness prevailed over light, evil over good, the flesh over thespirit. " Umbria was then, as it is now, a beautiful and fertile valley, rich in citron, almond, aloe, with forest trees of oak and pine and fir, to which long cultivation has added grapevines, engarlanding the elms, and orchards of the pale-leaved olive-tree, that give the landscape asomewhat transparent, aërial effect. The province is encircled on onehand by the yellow Tiber; on the other, by the bluish foot-hills of theApennines; and it is full of ancient little towns, nestled in the vales, or perched upon the airy hill-crests, with crenelated towers andterraces which command far-reaching and inspiring views. Old Perugiaguards the northern entrance to this exquisite region; and five leaguesto the northeast of that town is the saint's birthplace, Assisi. 

His father was Peter Bernard of Moriconi, better known as "Bernardone, "a rich merchant who carried on extensive business with France. In thosedays Italian merchants maintained a lavish mode of life, resembling thatof the nobles; and as the disorders of the period and the perilsattending travel compelled them to send armed escorts with their convoysof merchandise, there was something of military daring and displaymingled with their business and their surroundings. The wife ofBernardone, however, whose name was Pica (of the noble Bourlemont familyof Provence), was remarkable for her piety; the son--in this, as in somany historic instances of genius or distinction--inheriting his rarequality from the mother's side. She had but one other child, a youngerson, Angelo, who, notwithstanding his heavenly name, seems to have beena boy after Bernardone's own pattern; since he, later on, reviledFrancis and called him a fool for his piety and self-renunciation. Angelo's descendants were still living in Assisi in the latter half ofthe sixteenth century. Whether they shared their ancestor's contemptuousopinion of the Saint has not been recorded; but it seems probable thatthe homage of the world, rendered to the poor ascetic for severalcenturies, may have made some impression on their minds, if not theirsouls. 

Just before the birth of Francis, his mother suffered greatly. Apilgrim, coming to the house for alms, told the servants: "The motherwill be delivered only in a stable, and the child see the light uponstraw. " This appeared strange and unreasonable enough. Nevertheless hisadvice was followed. Pica was carried to the stable, and there she gavebirth to her first son, whom she caused to be baptized John, after thebeloved apostle of Jesus. Her husband, Bernardone, was absent at thetime on a business tour in France. Upon his return, he was delighted atfinding that he had a boy; and he insisted on giving him the surnameFrancis, in commemoration of that country with which he drove such aflourishing trade. Possibly he was also moved by the thought--albeit thechroniclers do not say so--that his wife's family came from SouthernFrance. At all events, Francis was the name by which the son came to beknown throughout his life and in history. 

Under priestly teachers he received an education which, for that time, was a fairly good one, in Latin, French, and literature. At the age offourteen his father took him into partnership; and for ten years theyoung man bought and sold with him, or travelled for him. But whileBernardone was a hard, avaricious man, the son differed from him greatlyin disposition; being fond of dress, of song, and feasting, gayety, andgaming. He was generous even to prodigality, full of wit andimagination, very sympathetic withal, and compassionate. Thomas ofCelano thus describes him: "His figure was above the middle height andwell set. He was thin, and of a very delicate constitution. He had anoval face, broad brow, white, close-set teeth, dark complexion, blackhair, regular features, expressive countenance, rosy lips, and acharming smile. " With all his roystering, dissipation, and extravagance, however, he was a foe to immorality, always rebuked impurity in severeterms, and kept his own purity intact. This lavish and somewhat recklesspursuit of other pleasures gave his parents much anxiety; although hismother, Pica, said in his defence, "I see in him, even in hisamusements, a nobility of character which gives me the highest hopes ofhis future. " But up to his twenty-fourth year nothing seemed moreunlikely than that he should have any vocation to a holy life. He wascalled the "flower of the youth" of Assisi, rejoiced in his gayleadership of the rich young men of the place, and dreamed of winningmilitary glory. 

In this capacity of taking the lead, and in the confident belief heoften expressed that he would one day receive honor from the world, wesee one natural germ of his later spiritual eminence. Another and morepotent germ was the love of the poor, and his pity for them, which hemanifested from childhood. In 1201, taking part as a soldier in a briefwar between Assisi and Perugia, he was captured, with several of hiscompanions, and imprisoned for a year. This experience, his first touchof adversity, sobered him a little; opening his eyes to the contrastbetween prosperity, with idle amusement and flattery, on the one hand, and on the other, suffering. Soon after his return home, also, he wasstricken down by a long and painful illness. When he rose from it and, as a convalescent, took his first walk into the country, he wasastonished to find that the beautiful Umbrian landscape which he hadalways so enjoyed, seemed to him cold, discolored, and sombre. A naturaleffect of illness, one may say. Yet it more often happens that when aconvalescent returns to fresh air and the beauty of the earth, hispleasure in them is heightened. At all events Francis was vividlyimpressed with the nothingness of nature, as compared with the eternalsplendor of God. But presently the passion for warlike renown tookpossession of him again. In 1206 he volunteered to join the Count ofBrienne, a Guelph champion of Italian national independence, who wasdefending the Two Sicilies against the attacks of the German emperor, Frederick II. Announcing to his friends that he was about to become agreat captain, Francis set out for the field of war, richly apparelledand with a brilliant retinue. 

In truth he was shortly to become a great captain, though not as heexpected, in war, but in peace. On the way to Spoleto, southward, avoice that seemed to come from heaven sounded in his ears; just as Saulwas appealed to while on his way to Damascus and was converted by itinto _St. Paul_. To the young Umbrian, half asleep, the voice said:"Francis, which can do thee most good; the master or the servant, therich one or the pauper?" He replied: "The master and the rich one. " Andthe voice resumed: "Why, then, leavest thou God, who is both rich andthe Master, to run after man, who is only the servant and the pauper?"Then Francis cried: "Ah, Lord; what willest Thou I should do?" "Go, "said the voice, "return to thy native city, for the vision thou hast hadhas a spiritual meaning. It is from God, not men, thou shalt receive itsaccomplishment. "

Heedless of whatever taunts might be flung at him, he turned back. Butthe youth of Assisi, though surprised, were rejoiced to see him, andbegged him to preside once more at their revels. He gave them a finalmagnificent banquet, at which they noticed that he was silent andpreoccupied. Immediately afterward he retired to a grotto, where hepassed his days alone, entreating God to pardon the misspent years ofyouth and to direct him in the right way. Here he had a vision of JesusChrist nailed to the cross. It is probably impossible to prove a vision;but that this one was real to Francis, at least, we may judge by itseffects. Thenceforth he devoted himself to a pious life of marvellousself-abnegation. Seeing the change that had come upon him, his formerfriends fell away; but he, undisturbed, went on performing works ofcharity; making gifts of money, food, and even his own clothes to thepoor. Again a voice spoke to him, from the crucifix of the dilapidatedold church of St. Damien: "Francis, go and repair my house, which yousee falling into ruins!" The young ascetic obeyed literally, and, passing through the streets, begged from all whom he met a stone or twoto help rebuild the old church. Bernardone had been absent severalmonths on one of his business trips; but his home-coming, this time, wasnot so pleasing to him as when his boy had been born. For, seeing theyoung man's complete transformation, all his selfish love of him turnedinto rage. He imprisoned him for a while in his own house; but Pica, recognizing that it was useless to oppose her son's religious vocation, finally set him free, and Francis took refuge in St. Damien's church. His father pursued him there, and brought before the Bishop of Assisi acomplaint against him, demanding that he should give up all the money inhis hands. Francis not only surrendered his money, but stripped off hisclothing and gave it to his father, saying: "Until now I have calledPeter Bernardone my father. Henceforth I can boldly say, 'Our Father, who art in heaven, ' in whom I have placed all my treasures and myhopes. "

The bishop covered him with his mantle and held him clasped in his arms, until the by-standers brought Francis the cloak of a poor peasant. "Oh, what a grand bankrupt this merchant becomes to-day!" Bossuet wrote ofhim, long afterward. "Oh man worthy of being written in the book of theevangelical poor, and henceforward living on the capital of Providence!"From that time Francis wore mendicant's garb and begged his food in thestreets. 

What did he accomplish by all this? To begin with, he succeeded inrebuilding three churches. But his influence was destined to be muchmore far-reaching than that, and of a very different nature. One day, while he was supplicating in church, his brother Angelo passed near him, and said to a friend, scoffingly: "Go, ask him to sell you some drops ofhis sweat. " "No, " said Francis; "I shall not sell my sweat to men. Ishall sell it at a higher price, to God. " He gave his sweat, his toil, his sufferings, and his renunciation to God, in exchange for theregeneration of men in a corrupt age. 

All Europe, at that time the whole civilized world, was suffering. Themass of the people were the poor, who were in deep distress, ground downby the pride and oppressions of the barons and the rich. The country wasdevastated by wars, large and small. The emperors of Germany were tryingto establish their dominion over Italy and to control the Pope. TheChurch itself, after emerging from an heroic struggle with centuries ofbarbarism, had been obliged to accept and use the feudal system as ameans of self-defence; and now the wrongs, the injustices, theselfishness of feudal society were beginning to exercise a corruptinginfluence on the exterior of the Church itself. Unselfish and holy menin ecclesiastical places, both high and humble, preserved the spirit andsanctity of Christian faith, but were not able wholly to counteract theevils of pride, wealth, and luxury that invaded the Church from theworldly side, and infected its unworthy servants. Francis perceived thatthe only hope or relief possible to that age lay in a decisive spiritualrevolution, to be effected without violence, which would recall peopleto the primitive simplicity, unselfishness, and absolute devotion of thetime of Christ and the apostolic period. This revolution could beaccomplished, he saw, only by a personal example so strong, soundeviating, so entirely free from self-seeking, that all men would becompelled to pause and consider it, and then to act upon it. Hetherefore sacrificed his whole life for the good of the race. In the endhe achieved his aim, single-handed, single-souled. No one who believesin God and in Christianity throughout, can maintain that Francis ofAssisi brought about these results by mere unaided human power. Thehuman element relies upon will, coercion, manoeuvre, and even intrigue. Francis gave up all these means. He first served the lepers for a month, living with them and taking care of them. This should especiallyinterest us to-day; since Father Damien's self-immolating life among thelepers of the Hawaiian Islands in recent years is so well known to us, and since the first refuge of Saint Francis from the world was St. Damien's church, in Assisi. Portiuncula, "The Little Portion, " was oneof the churches which he had rebuilt, and was his favorite. While he waslistening to the Gospel there, one day in February, 1209, these wordswere read from the altar: "Do not possess gold nor silver, nor money inyour purses; nor scrip for your journey, nor two coats, nor shoes, nor astaff. "

That precept decided him. He saw his vocation as a devotee of holypoverty. Straightway he began preaching everywhere the duty of povertyand love of the poor; and gradually he drew to himself disciples, untilthey numbered twelve; sometimes accosting his old friends, sometimesstrangers, who immediately joined him and consented to give up allworldly things, for the love of God. Most of them were men of rank andwealth, who had never known privation; yet they gave up social positionswhere they had been accustomed to command, accepted dire penury with himin a hut at Rivotorto, and submitted themselves to him in entireobedience. "Bread begged from door to door is the bread of angels, " saidFrancis. They went barefoot, wore a coarse gray tunic with a cincture ofcord, prayed much, helped the sick and needy, discoursed to and exhortedthe people, and lived on bread and water chiefly. Amid all theseausterities they thanked God that they had been chosen to give anexample of perfect happiness! Their leader insisted upon incessantindustry and unfailing cheerfulness. "Think of your errors in yourcells, " he commanded. "Weep, kneeling before God. But before others begay, and maintain an air of ease. " At first they called themselvessimply "penitents from Assisi, " and for a time they were treated withridicule, scorn, and even violence. But their mission was to suffereverything, to rejoice at insults and injuries and, by patience, compelrecognition of the dignity of every human creature under whatsoeverguise he might present himself. In this they succeeded. 

To a novice he said one day, "Brother, let us go out and preach. " Takinghim along, he went up into Assisi and they walked through the streetswithout saying a word; then returned to the convent. "And our preaching, father?" asked the novice. "It is done, " replied the Saint; implyingthat a modest, thoughtful exterior and the force of example are oftenthe most eloquent kind of preaching. But in 1209 it became clear to himby an inward vision in which the Christ came to him as a shepherd, thatgreat numbers would flock to follow him; and, though he had not thoughtof founding an Order, he now saw that it would be necessary. Hetherefore drew up a simple Rule in twenty-three chapters; the gist ofwhich was that they were to possess no money, no property whatever; thatthey were neither to blame nor to judge any one; were to hold themselvesprofoundly respectful toward all members of the clergy; to say not aword against the rich or against luxury; to preach, everywhere, concordand the love of God and one's neighbor; to bind themselves to obedienceand chastity, as well as poverty; to do penance and persist in theperfect faith of Christ. Not until sixteen years later did the LateranCouncil ordain that all religious orders must receive the approval ofthe Holy Father. But Francis did not wait for decrees. His humility, obedience, and loyalty to the Vicar of Christ led him to repair to Romewith his companions and there ask the permission of Pope Innocent III. , which he quickly obtained. The Rule was rewritten in 1619. Some of thebrethren suggested that he take the advice of a cardinal in formulatinghis rules; but the Saint declared that God had willed that he should"appear as a new sort of madman in the world, " arresting the attentionof the people and bringing them to reflect, without qualification, upon"the folly of the cross, " and that he alone must direct the manner inwhich this was to be done. 

[Illustration: The Vision of St Francis. ]

His order multiplied rapidly, and convents were established in all partsof Europe; although he was inclined to object to costly buildings, andwas prevailed upon to let them stand on the plea that they were neededto shelter travellers and pilgrims. He established also the order ofPoor Clares, so called from a noble maiden, Clare, who became its firstsuperior. This was, for women, what his order of the Friars Minor wasfor men; though the Clares remained strictly enclosed, while the Friarswent abroad preaching, and established missions in various quarters ofthe globe. Finally, he formed his Third Order, which included laymen andlaywomen living in the world, who bound themselves by simple vows ofvirtue and charity, while continuing in their accustomed phase of life. Thousands joined the Friars; and probably millions were enrolled in theThird Order. It has been said that Francis first made known to theMiddle Ages the power of association among the weak and humble, and thatfrom the pages on which he inscribed his institutes sprang moderndemocracy in Italy. Certain it is that the Emperor Frederick II. Received a letter from some of his Italian feudal supporters, saying:"The Friars Minor . . . Have raised themselves against us. They havepublicly condemned both our mode of life and our principles, they haveshattered our rights, and have brought us to nothingness. " Yet theFranciscan Friars and the Third Order had done this only by the contrastof example, of poverty, fasting, prayer, self-denial, and charity of theheart as well as of the hands. 

The work of Saint Francis did much to undermine feudalism; and it almostregenerated the spirit of Christianity in the thirteenth century. "Manof the people, " writes R. F. O'Connor, "he did more for the people thanever yet had been done by any one; whose vocation was to revive in themidst of a corrupting opulence the esteem and practice of poverty, whichhe ennobled, . . . And, without setting class against class, _or violatingthe least point of the divine or human law_, levelled every socialbarrier and united princes and peasants in a bond of union which neithertime nor eternity was to sever. "

This phase of his influence should interest us of to-day, when the sameproblems of wealth and poverty and of superficiality in religionconfront our arrogant modern "civilization. " That St. Francis was not amadman is evident from the orderliness of his work, his clearlegislative and administrative capacity, his calm, powerful, amiablesway over all sorts of people. Yet he was possessed by an absolutepassion and ecstasy of charity and universal love, which raised himabove the apprehension of the gross, material mind. It was thissupremacy of the spiritual in him which enabled him to accomplishmarvels of practical result. Toward the end of his life, this exaltationof the spirit produced upon his body a singular phenomenon. His handsand feet appeared to be transpierced by large nails, and a wound openedin his side, from which blood frequently flowed. In a word, he bore thewounds, or "stigmata" of Christ, on his own body. The nails weredistinct from the wound, but were apparently blackened flesh; beinginseparable from the hands and feet. This phenomenon was well attestedat the time. Within the present century several similar cases haveoccurred, under the observation of modern and approved sceptical men ofscience, who find that they occur when there has been much fasting, lossof sleep, and constant meditation upon the Passion of Christ. Theirtestimony states the conditions and verifies the fact, but does notexplain it. 

He died at his convent of St. Mary of the Angels (Portiuncula), October4, 1226, in perfect lucidity of mind, with patience and simpleresignation, while giving good counsel to his brethren. Of death hespoke gently as "our sister death;" and when, during his illness, hisphysician was obliged to cauterize him with a red-hot iron, he blessedthe iron, speaking of it as "our brother fire, " and submitted to thecauterization, or moxa, without a murmur or sign of pain. One remarkablething about him was his extraordinary recognition of all the powers andelements of nature as related to man in one family under God. This wasthe origin of his famous short "sermon to the birds, " which has beenpreserved. He talked to them and to all other animals as though hefirmly believed that they could understand him, and could adore theirCreator as well as he; though it is not probable that he supposed theywould understand him precisely as men would, or adore in the same way. It is clear that St. Francis had a great influence over animals, evenover wolves. 

Nowadays we have many lion-tamers and tiger-tamers, who rely simply uponhuman will and craft. Therefore it is not astonishing that St. Francis, who relied upon Divine power, should have been able to tame beasts. Whatis surprising is, that he should have been able to control men, who areso much harder to tame. 

The poems of St. Francis--his "Canticle of the Sun, " "Canticle of Love, "and "Canticle of Charity"--exemplify the immense and tender scope of hisexquisite love and good-will. His Order continues, and has given rise tosubsidiary organizations such as the Recollects and the Capuchins. Thousands of people in common life belong to his Third Order, now, andcontinue his work unostentatiously. His spirit is alive and operative inthe world to-day, nearly six hundred and seventy years since he leftthis earth. 

[Signature: George Parsons Lathrop. ]

ST. LOUIS

By HENRY G. HEWLETT

(1215-1270)

[Illustration: St. Louis. ]

The most striking features of the political history of France during thetenth and eleventh centuries are the conflict of the feudal aristocracyon the one hand, with monarchical and democratical power on the other, and the influence exerted by the Crusades on both. 

[Illustration: The Education of Louis IX. ]

The Crusades aided much in the accomplishment of the final result, thedestruction of the power of the nobility. In the first place, theyglorified the character of feudalism by enforcing the principles ofchivalry. To be a "true knight, " a man must be devout, just, merciful, and pure. Many Crusaders, indeed, fell far short of this high ideal; butthere can be no doubt that, on the whole, it elevated the standard ofmorality, and checked the rampant tyranny which had previouslyprevailed. Founded on a principle of sincere though mistaken piety, theCrusaders recognized all who took the cross as brethren; hence themeanest serf became, in some measure, free; and the same benignsentiment extended its effect to all classes. The attraction of a commoncause in foreign lands further contributed to wean the Crusaders fromthe class quarrels and domestic feuds which occupied them at home. During their absence the crown was enabled to acquire a strength whichhad previously been spent in the repression of constant rebellions. Andthe need of money for the expedition obliged many feudal lords tocontract with the communes for the sale of lands or liberties. 

Such was the condition of France at the commencement of the thirteenthcentury. The balance of power, however, was only sustained by theactivity of all the parties concerned. The slightest wavering on thepart of the crown would be fatal, the least opportunity seized. A wise, sincere, and humane ruler was needed to confirm and enlarge the vantageground which law and order had already obtained; and such a ruler rosein the person of Louis IX. , who ascended the throne in 1226. 

His father, Louis VIII. , was a man of weak character, whose reign waschiefly signalized by the horrible persecution of the ProtestantAlbigenses of Provence, which, under the sanction of Innocent III. , andlater Popes, had been carried on by Simon de Montfort and otherfanatics, since 1209. Louis himself had died of fever when about tocommence the siege of Toulouse. 

The Queen Dowager, Blanche, of Castile, was a woman of great energy, andduring the minority of her son she bravely contested her claims to theregency of the kingdom against those of Philip, her husband's brother, whom Henry III. , of England, supported. She appealed, not in vain, tothe gratitude of the metropolis, which the Capetian kings hadbefriended; and at her call a large force of citizens joined her. Withtheir aid she defeated Philip and other nobles, who opposed her son'scoronation, and by two treaties, in 1229 and 1231, she both extended thelimits of her kingdom and put an end to civil war. Over Louis, who wasbut eleven years old when his father died, she exercised a somewhatrigorous, but a holy and prudent discipline, to which he was muchindebted for strengthening his moral and mental constitution. He waseducated at the Abbey of Royaumont by Vincent de Beauvais, and thoughnot remarkable for talents, possessed considerable decision ofcharacter, and a large share of personal courage. It is, however, by thepiety, purity, and benevolence of his soul that he stands forth soprominently in the history of Europe. The year of his coronation all thejails of the kingdom were thrown open by the royal command. A naturemore truly loving and lovable has rarely been bestowed on any member ofthe human family. Yet, with all these paramount excellences, his lifepresents a tragedy--the fatal consequences of unreasoning faith. All hiserrors--we cannot justly call them faults--proceeded from this prolificsource. Before recording these, it will be gratifying to point out thehappier results of those noble and wise qualities which have consecratedhis name. 

After the treaty of 1231, France remained at peace for some years, during which time Louis married Margaret of Provence, a princess onlyinferior in worth to himself. Soon after attaining his majority he wascalled upon to contend with the Count of Brittany and other nobles whoresisted his authority. At the head of his vassals Louis marched againstthe rebels, and was so prompt and energetic in his measures that thecount was forced to yield and sue for pardon in the attitude of acriminal, with a rope round his neck. Henry III. Crossed the channelwith an army to support the rebellion, and recover, if possible, thepossessions which King John had surrendered to King Philip. The armiesmet at Saintes, in 1242, where the French were victorious, the rebelssubsequently submitting, and Henry returning home. 

In 1244 Louis had a severe illness, which was attended with danger tohis life. During the progress of it, he vowed to undertake a new crusadeshould he recover. The fulfilment of this vow was opposed by Blanche ofCastile (who still had great influence over her son) and many of hisbest counsellors; but Louis was inflexible where religion and honordemanded a sacrifice. 

In 1248 he collected a large army, and prepared to start by way ofSicily, the nearest route to Palestine, when he remembered that theisland belonged to Frederick II. , of Germany, who was underexcommunication by the Pope. All attempts to shake the decision ofInnocent IV. Failed; and yielding to the pious weakness of fearing torest in an excommunicant's territory, Louis changed his plans, anddetermined to pass by way of Cyprus and Egypt--a route which proved theruin of the expedition. He committed the regency of France to hismother, assumed the staff of pilgrimage, and accompanied by his wife andbrothers, left Paris on June 12, 1248. He stayed for several months inCyprus, until his armament amounted to 50, 000 men, and then sailed forEgypt. 

Arrived at the port of Damietta, he caused the oriflamme (the nationalstandard of France) to be waved above his head; and, arrayed in completearmor, he unsheathed his sword, and leaped into the sea, followed by theknights. The inhabitants fled, and the French took possession of thecity. The inundation of the Nile prevented their further movements forseveral months. Licentiousness and disease were fostered by this delay, in spite of the king's remonstrances; and their unopposed success madethe Crusaders careless as to the tactics of the enemy. 

On the subsidence of the Nile, Louis fortified Damietta, and left hisqueen and her ladies there, while he, with the main army, advanced onCairo, the metropolis of Egypt, where the sultan resided. NearMansourah, the Crusaders became perplexed by the intricacy of thecanals, and a hasty dash across one of these, made by the king'sbrother, the Count of Artois, with 2, 000 men, led to a calamitousresult. Mansourah was apparently deserted, and the count's troops, whopreceded their comrades at some distance, commenced pillaging thehouses. The inhabitants, who were only concealed, showered down stonesfrom the roofs; and at the same moment, a large body of the sultan'sarmy made an attack in front. Louis reached Mansourah in time to save afew of his men, but found his brother and several others slain. TheMoslem camp was captured, but proved a doubtful prize. The plains werebarren and scorching, and the harassing assaults of the Egyptians, whopoured "Greek fire" (missiles filled with combustible materials) ontheir foes, rendered the situation more intolerable still. Pestilencebroke out, and the king himself fell dangerously ill. He then ordered aretreat to Damietta, whither the sick were to be conveyed in galleys. These were intercepted, and the sick murdered by the Egyptians; while, at the same time an attack was made on the Christian camp. 

[Illustration: St. Louis. ]

Louis was so weak that he could scarcely ride, but nevertheless wouldnot desert his post. He rode between the ranks, encouraging his men, till he fainted and was obliged to withdraw from the field. His quaintand affectionate biographer, the Lord of Joinville, who was with him inthis expedition, thus describes the scenes which ensued: "Of all hismen-at-arms there was only one with him, the good knight, Sir Geoffreyde Sargines; and who, I heard say, did defend him like as a faithfulservant doth guard his master's cup from flies--for every time that theSaracens did approach the king he defended him with vigorous strokes ofthe blade and point of his sword, and his strength seemed doubled. Atlast he brought the king to a house where there was a woman from Paris;and laying him on the ground, placed his head on the woman's lap, expecting every moment that he would breathe his last. " In thishalf-dying condition a body of Egyptians found him, and bore him to thetent of the sultan. The defeat of the Christians, who were weakened bythe climate, disease, and want of food, was general; many fell by thesword, and the rest were taken prisoners with their king. 

In captivity Louis showed a noble resignation and courage amid theapostasy of many. He won the respect of the sultan, who treated him withgenerosity, and listened to the terms of ransom which he proposed. Thequeen remained at Damietta, which was strongly garrisoned. Fearful, nevertheless, of falling into the hands of the Moslems, who would havecarried her into the sultan's harem, she prayed an old knight in hersuite to slay her with his sword, should there be any danger of thatevent. "I had determined on so doing, madam, " was the answer. Margaret'sheroism was not put to this severe test, for the surrender of Damiettawas one of the conditions of her husband's release; and after paying inaddition a sum of 400, 000 livres, Louis was on the point of being setfree. An insurrection, however, suddenly arose among the Mamelukes, orTartarian troops, in whose hands the real power of the state was placed, and the sultan was murdered. A party of the assassins, it is said, entered the chamber of Louis with their scimitars drawn, but his calmdignity saved him, and the treaty was carried out by the new sultan. 

Many of the French nobles returned home, but the king, faithful to hisvow, proceeded to Syria, and spent four years in strengthening thefortresses of Tyre and other Christian towns, redeeming many Crusadersfrom slavery, and reducing to order the disturbed condition of thecountry. 

The death of the Queen Dowager Blanche, who had governed France wiselyduring her regency, recalled him in 1254, after an absence of six years. He still wore the cross upon his shoulder, as a token that his oath as aCrusader was not yet fulfilled; but he never once neglected the morepressing and necessary duties which devolved on him as a monarch. Hisimmediate work was to supersede the arbitrary legislation which thenobles exercised in their manorial courts over their tenants. Heaccordingly introduced into general use the famous code of Roman lawsknown as the Pandects of Justinian, and constituted the chief civillawyers, who had studied its contents and were best acquainted with itsprinciples, into a Parliament, or Court of Justice. The nobles and theclergy were duly represented in this assembly; but its clerks, orlawyers, were especially favored by the king, who seconded their ownefforts to absorb the business of the court as much as possible. Louisfurther mediated between the tyranny of the nobles and the weakness oftheir tenants, by encouraging the practice of appealing to the crown incase of injustice. This he even extended to ecclesiastical matters; abold step for one so devoted to the Church. The prohibition of thebarbarous custom of duelling to decide personal quarrels was another ofhis humane laws. These, and divers other ordinances, founded in a likespirit of equity, are known in a collected shape as the _Institutes ofSt. Louis_. His enactment touching appeals from the Church to the Crown, and the prohibition which he likewise issued against the levying ofmoney in France for the use of the Pope without the king's license, areknown as a _Pragmatic Sanction_--a term applied to any especiallyimportant national decree. Louis set the example of enforcing the lawspersonally, and none was fitter to administer them than he. Under an oakin the forest of Vincennes, near Paris, often sat the good king to hearappeals and petitions from his poor subjects. His social and foreignrelations were as fully attended to as his political reforms. He firstplaced the French navy on a substantial footing. To him Paris owed apublic library, a hospital for the blind, and the establishment of abody of police. Under his sanction, also, his confessor, Robert deSorbon, founded the famous theological college called by his name. Soscrupulously just and honorable was Louis, that he appointed acommission to ascertain what restitution of territory should be made tonations which had been mulcted by the conquests of his predecessors, andhe thus more than once sacrificed extensive possessions for the sake ofa principle. By a treaty in 1255, made with Henry III. , Louis restoredto the English crown the provinces of which Philip Augustus had deprivedit, and obtained in return the surrender of Henry's rights in Normandyand other fiefs. The reputation which Louis thus acquired among hisfellow-monarchs led to his being asked to act as mediator in severalquarrels, and gave him many opportunities of exhibiting his peaceful andloving policy. 

[Illustration: Louis IX. Opens the Jails of France. ]

The mental blindness of which we have spoken led him to commit errors, which, if his misled conscience had not sanctioned them, would deservethe name of crimes. Toward Jews and heretics he showed no mercy, issuing severe and unjust laws against them "for the good of his soul. "The duty of the historian is to record these failings of a noble natureas impartially as its beauties; but the evil must, in all fairness, becredited to the Church and system which taught, and not to the believerwho practised. 

In 1270 the affairs of the East again attracted the attention of Europe, and recalled Louis to the fulfilment of his vow, which he had onlypostponed. The Greeks had retaken the city of Constantinople from theFrench and Venetian Crusaders some years previously, yet thereconstitution of the Christian Empire of the East had not availed tocheck the aggressions of the Moslem in Palestine. Benocdar, the Sultanof Egypt, had already taken Cæsarea and Jaffa; and news now came thatAntioch had fallen, 100, 000 Christians having been massacred in thesiege. The seventh and last Crusade was at once set on foot by outragedEurope, and Louis led the expedition, in which France was, as usual, foremost. He raised an army of 6, 000 horse and 30, 000 foot, and wasaccompanied by his three sons, the King of Navarre, and several noblesof high rank. His brother, Charles of Anjou (the new King of Naples), and Edward I. , of England, (then prince), were to join the French in thecourse of the year. Some romantic intelligence that the Moslem King ofTunis was desirous of being baptized, induced the pious Louis again totry the African, instead of the Asiatic, route to Palestine. He narrowlyescaped with his life, in a tempest which overtook the fleet in theMediterranean, but landed in Sardinia, and after recruiting here againset sail, and anchored off Carthage. He met with opposition, instead ofwelcome, from the inhabitants of the coast, and was obliged to besiegeTunis. The excessive heat of the climate and the unhealthiness of thesoil proved a second time fatal to the army. Plague at last broke out, and Louis was himself seized. Finding himself dying, he sent for Philip, his eldest son and successor. Placing in his hand a written paper, thegood king prayed his son to follow the directions which itcontained--directions for the conduct of his life, as king andindividual; enforcing those principles of love to God and man which hadguided his own career. Then, requesting to be lifted from his bed, Louisinstructed his attendants to strew the floor of his tent with ashes andplace him thereon, that he might die as he had lived, in an attitude ofhumiliation and penitence toward his creator. This was done, and shortlyafterward, as though in vision fulfilling the vow which he was notpermitted to realize, he uttered, "I will enter thy house--I willworship in thy sanctuary!" and expired. His age was but fifty-four. 

A few hours elapsed, and the sound of a trumpet echoed through theplague-stricken and half-deserted camp. It was the note of Charles ofNaples, whose fleet had just arrived off the coast. Meeting with noresponse, he rode rapidly toward the tent of the king, and on enteringsaw his body lying still warm upon the ashes. The rites of burial werenot performed with the usual formalities, his remains being distributedamong his relatives. The flesh was kept by Charles, who buried it, onhis return to Sicily, in the great Abbey of Monreale, at Palermo. Thebones and other parts were conveyed back to France. Those who havevisited Paris will not forget the exquisite Gothic structure known asthe "Sainte Chapelle, " which is attached to the Palais de Justice, containing the courts of law. It was erected by Louis as a receptaclefor certain supposed relics of Christ. The windows of the chapel areentirely composed of stained glass, and as the sunbeams strike uponthem, their tints of crimson, blue, and orange blend into a rainbow-likeharmony of glowing and lustrous color, which recalls the heart of LouisIX. , enshrined within those walls, as its fitting human antitype. He wascanonized about thirty years afterward, under the title of St. Louis. 

MARCO POLO[7]

 [Footnote 7: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By NOAH BROOKS

(1256-1324)

[Illustration: Marco Polo. ]

In the month of November, in the year 1295, there appeared in thebeautiful city of Venice three strangers, who were clothed in anoutlandish and shabby garb of a Tartar cut. They claimed to be ofVenice, but, according to one of their biographers, one Ramusio, "through the many worries and anxieties they had undergone, they werequite changed in aspect, and had got a certain indescribable smack ofthe Tartar both in air and accent, having, indeed, all but forgottentheir Venetian tongue. " They went to the house of the Polo family, demanding entrance and claiming to be Nicolo Polo, Maffeo, his brother, and Marco, son of the elder of the two brothers, Nicolo. They werelaughed to scorn as pretenders and impostors; for the three missingmembers of the Polo family had been gone away from Venice sometwenty-odd years; it was in 1271 that the Polos were last heard from, then at Acre, journeying into the Far East. 

But the three somehow gained access to their own house, then in thepossession of one of their relations. And the news of their home-comingwas presently noised abroad throughout the city of Venice; so much sothat the people for days talked of little else save the reappearance inthe land of the living of the long-lost travellers. Many, however, doubted if these really were the brothers Polo and young Marco; thislast was a mere lad of seventeen when he went away, and now was grown tobe a portly man of forty-odd years. So incredulous were the townsfolkthat the brothers hit upon a scheme to convince the doubting ones. Theymade a grand feast to which all the gentry were invited, for the Polofamily were of noble birth and had held station in the state. Theentertainment was served in great splendor with gold and silver dishes, and the three travellers, when they sat down, were dressed in robes ofthe richest crimson satin flowing down to the ground. After some of thecourses had been eaten, they retired to their chamber and came forthagain dressed in other robes of crimson silk damask, very rich, and thesatin garments were cut up and divided among the servants. Again, lateron in the repast, they retired, and when they came again to the tablethey wore other robes, of the richest crimson velvet, and the secondgarments were cut up and divided as the others had been. When the dinnerwas over they took off the velvet robes, and these were disposed of inlike manner. "These proceedings, " says the honest Ramusio, "caused muchwonder and amazement among the guests, " which we can well imagine. 

Next, dismissing all the servants, the younger one of the three, MarcoPolo, went to an inner chamber and brought forth to the table the coarseand shabby dresses in which the three had arrived in Venice. Then, taking sharp knives, the travellers ripped open the seams and welts ofthe garments, and shook from them a vast profusion of diamonds, rubies, sapphires, carbuncles, emeralds, and other precious stones. The guestswere dumfounded and amazed. "And now, " says Ramusio, "they recognizedthat in spite of all former doubts, these were in truth those honoredand worthy gentlemen of the Casa Polo that they claimed to be; and soall paid them the greatest honor and reverence. " Furthermore, we aretold that when the story got wind in Venice, straightway the whole city, gentle and simple, flocked to the house to embrace the three travellers, and to make much of them with every conceivable demonstration ofaffection and respect. 

This was the wonderful home-coming of the three Polos, who fortwenty-four years had been wandering in the East, and who, when they setout on their homeward journey, a journey beset with untold difficultiesand dangers, took the precaution to conceal in their garments, as abovetold, the wealth which they had accumulated while they were at the courtof the Great Khan of Tartary. It reads like a romance, a story out of"The Arabian Nights' Entertainments. " But it is all true, and thearchives of Venice corroborate pretty nearly all the details herein setforth. Indeed, as a prophet is not without honor save in his own countryand among his own kindred, it must be said that the later generation ofVenetians found less difficulty in believing the tales of the threetravellers than did those who first heard them. In telling these tales, they had frequent occasion to use the word "millions, " a word not thencommon among the Venetians, as to say that the Great Khan had revenuesamounting to ten or fifteen _millions_ of gold, and so on. And thepeople gave Marco, who seems to have been the story-teller of the party, the nickname of Messer Marco Millioni. Curiously enough, this nameappears in the public records of old Venice. 

Of the final exit of the elders of the Polo family, Nicolo and Maffeo, we have no trustworthy account. As they were well stricken in years whenthey returned from their long sojourn in Cathay, we may suppose thatthey did not live long after their return to Venice. But the youngerMarco had a busy and stirring life. At that time the republics of Veniceand Genoa were rivals for the ruling of the seas and the monopoly ofmaritime trade everywhere. A Venetian galley could not meet one fromGenoa without a fight, and the fleets of the two states were continuallyat war. 

Marco, being one of the representatives of the noble Venetian familieswho were required to come to the support of the state with at least onegalley, entered the naval service of Venice in command of a war galley, and was engaged in the great battle between Venice and Genoa nearCurzola, off the Dalmatian coast, in 1298, three years after his returnfrom Cathay. The Venetians were beaten ignominiously, and 7, 000 of themwere taken prisoners and carried to Genoa. It was a lucky thing for theworld that Marco Polo was thus put into enforced idleness, and that hehad for a companion in confinement an educated gentleman, oneRusticiano, of Pisa. Otherwise, most likely we never would have heard ofthe travels of Marco Polo, whom some of the later chroniclers havelikened to Columbus, the discoverer of America. 

To beguile the tedium of their imprisonment, Marco was wont to tell histraveller's tales to his companion, Rusticiano, and this worthygentleman conceived the notion of writing out the marvellous adventuresand observations of his fellow-prisoner. We must bear in mind that theItalian gentry of that time did not hold in high esteem the art ofwriting, and although Marco was not inferior to any man in daring oradventurousness, he was willing to leave to the scriveners the task ofwriting about such matters. But, in the end, the advice of Rusticianoprevailed, and the Pisan gentleman set down from the dictation of Marco"The Book of Ser Marco Polo Concerning the Kingdoms and Marvels of theEast. " This was, up to that time, the most important book of travels andvoyages ever written. Indeed, it was the most important book of any kindwritten during the Middle Ages. 

The book contributed more new facts toward a knowledge of the earth'ssurface, says one skilled authority, than any book that had been writtenbefore. The writer was the first to describe China, or Cathay, in itsvastness of territory, its wonderfully rich and populous cities, and thefirst to tell of Tartary, Thibet, Burmah, Siam, Cochin-China, the IndianArchipelago, the Andaman Islands, of Java and Sumatra, of the fabledisland of Cipangu, or Japan, of Hindustan, and that marvellous regionwhich the world learned to know as Farther India. From far-voyagingsailors he brought home accounts of Zanzibar and Madagascar, and thesemi-Christian country of Abyssinia, where some accounts located thatmysterious potentate called Prester John. He had traversed Persia andhad picked up a vast amount of information concerning the country ofSiberia, with its polar snows and bears, its dog-sledges, and its almosteverlasting winter. He traversed the entire length of Asia. 

Surely, Europe might well be dazed when this account of regions, untilthen unknown, was unrolled before the scholars and explorers who couldread the few precious books then in circulation. For it should beremembered that the art of printing was then unknown, and only inmanuscript did any book make its appearance. Rusticiano wrote in a verypoor sort of French; for then, as now, that language was commonest inall the cities of Europe. How much of the language of the book of MarcoPolo's travels was Marco's, and how much was the worthy Rusticiano's, weare unable to decide. The facts in that famous book were duly vouchedfor by Marco. The opening chapter, or prologue, inflated and wordy, after the fashion of the times, was undoubtedly Rusticiano's. He beganthus: "Great Princes, Emperors, and Kings, Dukes and Marquises, Counts, Knights, and Burgesses! and People of all degree who desire to getknowledge of the various races of mankind and of the diversities of thesundry regions of the World, take this Book and cause it to be read toyou. For ye shall find therein all kinds of wonderful things, and thedivers histories of the Great Hermenia, and of Persia, and of the Landof the Tartars, and of India, and of many another country of which ourBook doth speak, particularly and in regular succession, according tothe description of Messer Marco Polo, a wise and noble citizen ofVenice, as he saw them with his own eyes. "

This portentous prologue ends with these great swelling words: "And Imay tell you that in acquiring this knowledge he spent in those variousparts of the World good six-and-twenty years. Now, being thereafter aninmate of the Prison at Genoa, he caused Messer Rusticiano, of Pisa, whowas in the same Prison likewise, to reduce the whole to writing; andthis befell in the year 1298 from the birth of Jesus. "

One year later, in the summer of 1299, Marco Polo was set at liberty andreturned to Venice, where he died peacefully in 1324. His last will andtestament, dated January 9, 1323, is preserved among the archives ofVenice, and a marble statue in his honor was set up by the Venetians, inthe seventeenth century, and may be seen unto this day in the PalazzoMorosini-Gattemburg, in the Campo S. Stefano of that city. 

How came Marco Polo to be drawn so far into the vague and shadowy East?Somewhere about the middle of the thirteenth century, certain members ofthe Polo family had established a trading-house in Constantinople, thenpretty near the end of the world from Europe. These adventurousVenetians, in 1260, sent the two brothers, Nicolo and Maffeo, stillfurther to the eastward on a trading journey to the Crimea. Led on byone adventure and another, and lured by the hope of new and greatergains, they ascended the Volga northward and eastward, crossed Bokhara, and finally broke into one of the northwestern provinces of China, orCathay, then faintly known in Europe by various names, the most classicof which was Seres. 

Here they made their way to the capital city of the Great Mongol Empire, the seat of government where ruled the Great Khan, a very mightypotentate, Kublai Khan, grandson of the famous conqueror, Ghenghis Khan. Kublai Khan resided at the wonderful city of Cambuluc, which we now knowas Pekin. North of the Great Wall, and some one hundred and eighty milesfrom Cambuluc, was the Great Khan's summer palace, one of the wonders ofthe world, reading of which in Purchas' account of Marco Polo'stravels, it is said that Coleridge fell asleep and dreamed the famouspoem beginning:

 "In Xanadu did Kublai Khan A stately pleasure dome decree, Where Alph, the sacred river, ran, Through caverns measureless to man, Down to a sunless sea. "

These Polo brothers were the first Europeans that the Great Khan hadever seen; but before this time, Friar Plano Carpini, in 1246, and FriarWilliam Rubruquis, in 1253, had penetrated into Mongolia on some errandnot now distinctly understood, but far enough to learn that a great andcivilized country existed somewhere in the eastern extremity of Asia. They also learned that beyond this extremity of the continent there wasa sea; people had until then believed that the eastern end of Asiadisappeared in a vast and reedy bog, beyond which was deep andimpenetrable darkness. More exact knowledge of that far eastern sea wassubsequently acquired by the Venetian travellers. From these wanderingfriars the Great Khan had heard, at second-hand, doubtless, of Europeanprinces, potentates, and powers, and of the Pope of Rome. 

He was mightily taken with the noble Venetians, and we are told that hetreated them with every courtesy and consideration. He was anxious tosecure through them the aid of the Sovereign Pontiff, of whose functionshe entertained high respect, in the civilizing of the hordes that hadlately been added to the Mongol Empire by wars of conquest. And heentreated the good offices of the polished and cultivated Venetians insecuring for him the good offices of the Pope for that end. Accordingly, the two brothers, after satisfying to some degree their curiosity, setout for home, full of tales of their strange adventure, we doubt not;and they reached Venice in 1269, only to find that the Pope Clement IV. Was dead, and that no successor had been chosen in his place. 

There was a long interregnum, and the brothers, taking with them the sonof Nicolo, the young Marco, then a stout lad, began to retrace theirsteps to Cathay, despairing of being able to enlist the one hundredpriests which the Great Khan had asked them to borrow for missionarypurposes from the Pope. 

At Acre, then held by European powers that had been engaged in thecrusades for the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre, they took counsel withone Tebaldo Visconti, an eminent prelate, who was Archdeacon of Liégeand a person of great consequence in the Eastern church. At theirrequest, he wrote letters to the Great Khan, authenticating the causesof their failure to fulfil the wishes of the Khan in the matter ofobtaining the missionaries whom he desired. Then they pushed on towardthe farther East, and while waiting for a vessel to sail from the portof Ayas, on the Gulf of Scanderoon, then the starting-point for theAsiatic trade, they were overtaken by the news that their friend theArchdeacon Tebaldo had been chosen Pope, under the title of Gregory X. They at once returned to Acre, and were able to present to the newlyelected pontiff the request of the Great Khan and get a reply. Butinstead of one hundred teachers and preachers, they were furnished withonly two Dominican friars; and these lost heart and drew back before thejourney was fairly begun. It may be said here that the Great Khan, beingdisappointed by the Roman Church, subsequently applied to the GrandLlama of Thibet, and from that source secured the teachers whom he sogreatly desired. The Great Khan appears to have been an enlightened andliberal sovereign, and, according to his lights, was willing to furnishto his people the best form of religion that was to be had. He preferredthe religion of the elegant and polished Italians, but, failing to getthis, he naturally turned his eyes in the direction of Thibet, then anunknown land to all Europeans, but regarded in Mongolia as a region ofsome considerable civilization. 

The three members of the Polo family finally set out on their return toCathay, leaving Acre in November, 1271. They proceeded by the way ofAyas and Sivas to Mardin, Mosul, and Bagdad to Hormuz, at the mouth ofthe Persian Gulf. Here they met with some obstacle and turned fromHormuz, and traversed successively Kerman and Khorassan, Balkh, andBadakhshan, by the way of the upper Oxus, to the plateau of Pamir;thence crossing the steppes of Pamir, the three travellers descendedupon Kashgar, whence they proceeded by Yarkand and Khotan to thevicinity of Lake Lob; and, crossing the desert of Gobi, they reached theprovince of Tangut in the extreme northwestern corner of China, orCathay. Skirting the northern frontier, they finally reached the actualpresence of the Great Khan, who was then at his summer palace ofKaipingfu, before spoken of, situated at the base of the KhinganMountains, fifty miles north of the Great Wall. One may form some ideaof the difficulties of Asiatic travel in those days, as well as theleisurely habits of the time, by considering that this journey occupiedthe three Venetians three years and a half. They arrived at the palaceof the Khan about May, 1275. 

The Polos were very cordially and gladly received by the potentate, thenruling over a territory so vast that it has been well said that, "InAsia and Eastern Europe scarcely a dog might bark without Mongol leave, from the borders of Poland and the coast of Cilicia to the Amoor and theYellow Sea. " Kublai Khan regarded the young Marco with especial favor, and soon began to employ him in errands and commissions of importance. "The Young Bachelor, " as he is called in his book, took pains to acquireat once an acquaintance with the Chinese alphabet, and to learn thelanguages and dialects of the countries in which he found profitable andinteresting employment. 

It appears that the Khan had been greatly annoyed by the stupidity ofhis own officials and agents. They attended only to the errands on whichthey were sent, and brought back absolutely no knowledge of the distantcountries that they visited, except that which they were speciallydirected to fetch. Very different was the conduct of the young Venetian. He was shrewdly observant, of a lively disposition, and given toinquiring into the strange and wonderful things which he beheld in thoseremote parts of the world, hitherto secluded from the observation ofEuropeans. He made copious and minute notes of all that he saw andheard, for the benefit of his imperial master. These notes afterwardserved him a good purpose, as we shall see; for they were the basis ofthe book that has made the name of Marco Polo famous throughout theworld. When he returned to the imperial court, we can imagine thesatisfaction with which the picturesque and intelligent narrations ofwhat he had seen and heard were received by the Great Khan. 

In the records of the Mongol dynasty has been found a minute settingforth the fact that a certain Polo, undoubtedly young Marco, wasnominated a second-class commissioner attached to the privy council ofthe Empire, in the year 1277. His first mission appears to have takenhim on public business to the provinces of Shansi, Shensi, Sechuen andYunnan, in the southern and southwestern part of China, and east ofThibet. Even now, those regions are comparatively unknown to the rest ofthe world; and one must needs admire the intrepidity of the youngVenetian who penetrated their wild mountain fastnesses, traced theirmighty rivers, and carried away for the delight of the Great Khan, muchnovel information concerning the peoples that so numerously flourishedin that cradle of the human race. 

In his book Marco Polo does not greatly magnify himself and his office, and it is only incidentally, as it were, that we know that he was forthree years governor of the great city of Yangchau. Following thedetails laid down in his book, the accuracy of which we have no reasonto doubt, we find him visiting the old capital of the Khans, inMongolia, employed in Southern Cochin-China, and on a mission to theIndian Seas, when he visited some of the states of India, of whichEuropeans at that time had only dimly heard the most fabulous and vagueaccounts. That the Polos were all favorites of the Great Khan issufficiently evident; but it does not appear that any but Marco was inthe employment of the Khan. All three of them doubtless made hay whilethe sun shone, and gathered wealth as they could, trading with thepeople and making use of their Venetian shrewdness in dealing with thenatives, who were no match for the cunning traders from the Rialto. 

Naturally, they longed to carry their wealth and their aged heads--forthe two elders were now well stricken in years--safely back to theirbeloved Venice on the Adriatic, so far away. But Kublai Khan would notlisten to any of their suggestions, and turned a deaf ear to theirhints. A happy chance intervened to bring them out of the wild, mysterious realm of the Great Khan. Arghun, Khan of Persia, agreat-nephew of Kublai, had lost by death his favorite wife, who was ofone of the Mongol tribes, and who, dying in 1286, laid a partinginjunction on the Khan that he should wed none but a Mongol princess. Sorely mourning her, the Persian Khan sent an embassy to the court ofKublai Khan to solicit a suitable bride for him. The Lady Kuchachin, adamsel of seventeen, beautiful and virtuous, was selected by the Courtand was made ready to be sent to Tabriz, then the capital of the PersianEmpire. The overland journey was highly dangerous, as it lay throughregions tenanted by hostile and warlike tribes, besides beingportentously long to be undertaken by a delicate young princess. ThePersian envoys, accordingly, entreated the Great Khan to send with themby sea the three foreigners, of whose seamanship they undoubtedly heldhigh opinion, especially as the young Marco had just returned from hisdistant and venturous voyage to the Indian Seas. With much reluctancethe Khan consented, and the argosy set forth. 

Having given leave for the three Venetians to sail, the Great Khanfitted them out nobly and endowed them with handsome presents atparting. They sailed, so far as we can now make out, from the port ofZayton, better known as Chinchau, in Fokien, at the beginning of theyear 1292, two hundred years before Columbus set forth upon his voyageacross the Ocean Sea. 

It was an ill-starred and unfortunate voyage for the three Polos andtheir precious charge, although all escaped with their lives andtreasure. They were detained five months on the coast of Sumatra, andthere were even longer detentions off the southern coast of India, sothat more than two years had passed since their departure from Fokien, when they arrived at the camp of the then reigning prince of Persia. TheKhan of Persia, they found, had died before they set sail from China, and his son, Ghazan Khan, reigned in his stead. 

After the custom of the times and the people, however, the princess wasmarried without ado to the successor of the royal person to whom she hadbeen betrothed before leaving far-off Cathay. It is related that shetook her leave of the three noble Venetians, to whom she had become likea daughter and sister, with many tears and protestations of affection;for they had been very choice in their care of her, and she lamentedtheir departure with sincere sorrow and many tears. 

Leaving the princess at the camp of the Khan (for he was now at war), the Venetians pushed on to Tabriz, where they made a long halt, restingand refreshing themselves after their long and wearisome journey. Thenthey again took up their line of march westward, and reached Venice, aswe have seen, in November, 1295, only to find their identity denied andtheir stories disbelieved, until, by an artifice, they made themselvestruly known to their fellow-townsmen, who had long since given them upfor dead. 

Marco Polo's book, dictated by him in prison, is remarkable for itsreserve and its scantiness of all semblance of ornament in its literarystyle. Messer Marco evidently did not greatly affect the arts and gracesof fine writing. Like most of the Italian gentlefolk of his day andgeneration, he held the business of writing in low esteem. Some of hischapters are very brief indeed, the text being no greater in bulk thanthe headings which his amanuensis put over them of his own motion. Ofthe original manuscript, written in French, copies were made for the useof the learned, the art of printing being as yet not invented. There arenow in existence no less than eighty of these manuscripts, in variouslanguages, more or less differing from each other in unimportantdetails; but all substantially verifying the facts of the wonderfulhistory of Messer Marco Polo as here set forth. The most precious ofthese is known as the Geographical text, and is preserved in the greatParis Library; from it was printed, in 1824, one of the most valued ofthe texts now in existence. But the most useful and satisfactory of allthe printed editions is that edited and annotated by Colonel Henry Yule, and printed in London in 1871. The first printed edition of Marco Polo'sbook was in the German text, and was published in 1477. 

Many writers have dwelt long on the question, Did Columbus gather anyinformation from the book of Marco Polo that aided him in forming histheory, that one could reach India and Cathay by sailing westward fromSpain out into the Sea of Darkness? We cannot satisfactorily answer thatquestion. But we do know that all Europe, at the time of Marco Polo'sadventurous journey eastward, resolutely turned its back upon theAtlantic, and looked toward Cathay and the Far Orient for a road to thefabulous diamond mines and spice islands that were believed to existsomewhere in the vague and mysterious East. Many philosophers, amongwhom was Columbus himself, thought the globe much smaller than it reallyis; but it was Columbus who was apparently charged with a divine missionto teach the world that sailing due westward from the Pillars ofHercules would bring the voyager to the dominions of Prester John, theIndies, and Cipangu. 

When Columbus set sail for his hazardous venture into the Sea ofDarkness, he was armed with letters to Prester John, the traditionalChristian prince of the Far East; and his first landfall, as we knownow, was by him supposed to be an outlying portion of that vast regionvaguely known to the explorers who followed Marco Polo, as FartherIndia. But centuries rolled away before the world saw the facts ofgeography as we know them, or learned to accept as true the marvellousstories of Marco Polo, whose priceless legacy was first dimly known tothe few, and was dubbed the Romance of the Great Khan. 

[Signature: Noah Brooks. ]

SIR WILLIAM WALLACE

(1270-1305)

The life and exploits of this most popular national hero of the Scotshave been principally preserved in a legendary form by poetry andtradition, and are only to a very small extent matter of contemporaryrecord, or illustrated by authentic documents. There is no extantScottish chronicler of the age of Wallace. Fordun, the earliest of hiscountrymen from whom we have any account of him, is his junior by nearlya century. Wyntoun, the next authority, is still half a century later. His chief celebrator is the metrical writer Blind Harry, or Harry theMinstrel, whose work confesses itself by its very form to be quite asmuch of a fiction as a history, and whose era, at any rate, is supposedto be nearly two centuries subsequent to that of his hero. Some fewfacts, however, may be got out of the English annalists Trivet andHemingford, who were the contemporaries of Wallace. 

[Illustration: Sir William Wallace. ]

There are contradictory statements of the year of his birth, but it isprobable he was born about 1270. His family was one of some distinction, and he is said to have been the younger of the two sons of Sir MalcolmWallace, of Elderslie and Auchinbothie, in the neighborhood of Paisley. His mother, who according to one account was Sir Malcolm's second wife, is stated by the genealogists to have been Margaret, daughter of SirRaynald or Reginald (other authorities say Sir Hugh) Crawford, who heldthe office of Sheriff of Ayr. 

The history of Wallace down to the year 1297 is entirely legendary, andonly to be found in the rhymes of Harry the Minstrel; though many of thefacts which Harry relates still live as popular traditions in thelocalities where the scenes of them are laid, whether handed down inthat way from the time when they happened, or only derived from hispoem, which long continued to be the literary favorite of the Scottishpeasantry. Harry, who, it may be observed, professes to translate from aLatin account written by Wallace's intimate friend and chaplain, JohnBlair, makes him to have been carefully educated by his uncle, a wealthychurchman who resided at Dunipace, in Stirlingshire, and to have beenafterward sent to the grammar-school of Dundee. Here his first memorableact is said to have been performed; his slaughter of the son of Selby, the English governor of the castle of Dundee, in chastisement of aninsult offered him by the unwary young man; Wallace with his daggerstruck him dead on the spot. This must have happened, if at all, in theyear 1291, after Edward I. Of England had obtained possession of all theplaces of strength throughout Scotland on his recognition as LordParamount by the various competitors for the crown, which had becomevacant by the death of the infant Margaret, the Maiden of Norway, inSeptember, 1290. 

This bold deed committed by Wallace, who in making his escape isasserted to have laid several of young Selby's attendants as low astheir master, was immediately followed by his outlawry. He now took tothe woods, and gifted as he was with eloquence, sagacity, and other highmental powers and accomplishments (to this the testimony of Fordun is asexpress and explicit as that of his poetical biographer), not less thanwith strength and height of frame and all other personal advantages, hesoon found himself at the head of a band of attached as well asdetermined followers, who under his guidance often harassed the Englishsoldiery, both on their marches and at their stations, plundering andslaying, as it might chance, with equally little remorse. Particularspots in nearly every part of Scotland are still famous for some deed ofWallace and his fellow-outlaws, performed at this period of his life;but for these we must refer to the Blind Minstrel. The woods in theneighborhood of Ayr would seem to have been his chief haunt; and some ofhis most remarkable feats of valor were exhibited in that town, in theface and in defiance of the foreign garrison by which it was occupied. Both his father and his elder brother are said to have fallen in_rencontres_ with the English during this interval. It was now also thathe fell in love with the orphan daughter of Sir Hew de Bradfute, theheiress of Lamington, having, it is said, first seen her at a church inthe neighborhood of Lanark. The Scotch writers affirm that this lady, whom he appears to have married, and who at any rate bore him adaughter, a year or two after forming her connection with Wallace fellinto the hands of his enemies, and was barbarously executed by order ofHazelrig, the English Sheriff or Governor of Lanark, while her husband, or lover, was doomed to witness the spectacle from a place where he layin concealment. Such private injuries were well fitted to raise hishatred to an unextinguishable flame. 

How far the guerilla warfare maintained by Wallace and his associatescontributed to excite and spread the spirit of resistance to the Englishgovernment, we have scarcely the means of judging; but it seems probablethat it aided materially in producing the general insurrection whichbroke out in the spring of 1297. The accounts we have of thecommencement of that movement represent Wallace at its head, in commandof a considerable force, and in association with some of the mostdistinguished persons in the kingdom, such as the Steward of Scotlandand his brother, Wishart, Bishop of Glasgow, Sir William Douglas, etc. Soon after this he was joined by the younger Robert Bruce (afterwardKing Robert I. ) who had hitherto, as well as his father, who was stillalive (the son of the original competitor for the crown), professed toadhere to the English king. 

This, however, appears to have been but an ill-cemented confederacy. When the force despatched by Edward to quell the revolt presented itselfbefore the Scottish army posted near Irvine, in Ayrshire, the leaders ofthe latter, throwing off the authority of their nominal chief, could nomore agree what to do than whom to obey: and the result was that Bruce, the Steward, Douglas, and others of them, availing themselves of thediplomatic talents of the Bishop of Glasgow, concluded a treaty on July9th, by which they agreed to acknowledge Edward as their sovereign lord. All the rest ultimately acceded to this arrangement, except only Wallaceand his friend, Sir Andrew Moray, of Bothwell. The treaty of Irvine, which is printed by Rymer, is, we believe, the first of the few publicdocuments in which mention is made of Wallace; to the instrument (whichis in French) are subjoined the words, "Escrit à Sir Willaume, " themeaning of which Lord Hailes conceives to be, "that the barons hadnotified Wallace that they had made terms of accommodation forthemselves and their party. " The words, moreover, on the suppositionthat they refer to Wallace, of which there seems to be little doubt, show that he had before this date obtained the honor of knighthood. Ithad probably been bestowed upon him (as was then customary) by someother knight, one of his companions in arms, since his elevation frombeing the captain of a band of outlaws to be the commander-in-chief ofthe national forces. 

Wallace now retired to the north, carrying with him, however, aconsiderable body of adherents, to whom additional numbers rapidlygathered, so that he soon found himself in a condition to recommenceaggressive operations. Directing his force to the northeastern coast, hesurprised the castle of Dunottar, cleared Aberdeen, Forfar, Brechin, andother towns of their English garrisons, and then laid siege to thecastle of Dundee. While he was engaged in this last attempt, news wasbrought that the English army was approaching Stirling; upon which, leaving the siege to be carried on by the citizens of Dundee, hehastened to meet the enemy in the field. The result was the completedefeat and rout of the English, at the battle of Stirling Bridge, foughton September 11, 1297--a battle which once more, for the moment, liberated Scotland. The English were immediately driven or fled fromevery place of strength in the country, including Berwick itself. 

Availing himself of this panic and of the exhilaration of hiscountrymen, Wallace pursued the fugitives across the border; and puttinghimself at the head of a numerous force, he entered England on October18th, and, remaining till November 11th, wasted the country with fireand sword from sea to sea, and as far south as to the walls ofNewcastle. It was during this visitation that the prior and convent ofHexham obtained from him the protection preserved by Hemingford. It isdated at Hexildesham (Hexham), November 7th, and runs in the names of"Andreas de Moravia, et Wilhelmus Wallensis, duces exercitus Scotiæ, nomine præclari principis Joannis, Dei gratia, Regis Scotia illustris, de consensu communitatis regni ejusdem, " that is, "Andrew Moray andWilliam Wallace, commanders-in-chief of the army of Scotland, in thename of King John, and by consent of the community of the said kingdom. "The John here acknowledged as King of Scotland was Baliol, now in thehands of Edward, and living in a sort of free custody in the Tower ofLondon. Wallace's associate in the command was the young Sir AndrewMoray, son of his faithful friend of that name, who had retired with himfrom the capitulation of Irvine, and who had fallen at the battle ofStirling Bridge. 

One of the most curious of the few public papers in which the name ofWallace occurs was a few years since discovered by Dr. Lappenburg, ofHamburg, in the archives of the ancient Hanseatic city of Lübeck. It isa letter, in Latin, addressed to the authorities of Lübeck and Hamburg, informing them that their merchants should now have free access to allports of the kingdom of Scotland, seeing that the said kingdom, by thefavor of God, had been recovered by war from the power of the English. The letter is dated "apud Badsing tonam" (the true word, it has beensuggested, is probably Haddingtonam), October 11, 1297, that is, a fewdays before the invasion of Cumberland and Northumberland. It is in thename of "Andreas de Moravia et Willelmus Wallensis, duces exercitisregni Scotiæ, et communitas, eiusdem regni"--like the Hexhamprotection--but without any mention of King John. 

After his triumphal return from his incursion into England, Wallaceassumed the title of Guardian of the Kingdom in the name of King John, whether formally invested with that dignity or only hailed as such bythe gratitude of his countrymen. In a charter, printed in Anderson's"Diplomata, " conferring the constabulary of Dundee on AlexanderSkirmischur (Scrimgeour) and his heirs, and dated at Torphichen (in thecounty of Linlithgow) March 29, 1298, he styles himself, "WillelmusWalays miles, Custos Regni Scotiæ, et ductor exercituum ejusdem, nominepræclari principis Domini Johannis, Dei gratia Regis Scotiæ illustris, de consensu communitatis ejusdem. " The grant is stated to have been madewith the consent and approbation of the nobility ("per consensum etassensum magnatum dicti regni. ")

But this supreme elevation did not last long. Supported only by his ownmerits and the admiration and attachment of his humblerfellow-countrymen, Wallace, a new man, and without family connection, would probably have found it difficult or impossible to retain his highplace, even if he had had nothing more to contend with than domesticjealousy and dissatisfaction. Fordun relates that many of the nobilitywere in the habit of saying, "We will not have this man to rule overus. " Meanwhile the energetic English king, who had been abroad when thedefeat of Stirling Bridge lost him Scotland, had now returned home, andwas already on his march toward the borders at the head of a powerfularmy. A body of English, which had landed in the north of Fife, led byAymer de Vallois, Earl of Pembroke, is said by the Scottish authoritiesto have been attacked and routed by Wallace on June 12, 1298, in theforest of Blackironside, in that county; but when the two main armiesmet on July 22d, in the neighborhood of Falkirk--the Scots commanded byWallace, the English by their king in person--the former, after agallant and obstinate resistance, were at last forced to give way, andthe battle ended in a universal rout accompanied with immense slaughter. 

This defeat did not put an end to the war; but it was taken advantage ofby the Scottish nobility to deprive Wallace of his office of guardian orchief governor of the kingdom. The Scottish accounts say that hevoluntarily resigned the supreme power; it is certain, at any rate, thatBruce, his rival Comyn, and Lamberton, Bishop of St. Andrew's, were nowappointed joint guardians of Scotland, still in the name of Baliol. Forsome years after this our accounts of Wallace are slight and obscure;but he appears to have returned with a chosen band of followers to thepractice of the desultory warfare in which he had originallydistinguished himself. The legendary histories continue to detail hisdeeds of prowess performed in harassing the enemy both on their marchesand in their camps and strongholds. And to fill up the story, they alsomake him to have paid two visits to France--the first in 1300, thesecond in 1302. The next well-ascertained fact regarding him is thatwhen the Scottish leaders were at last obliged to submit to Edward atStrathorde, on February 9, 1304, Wallace was not included in thecapitulation, one of the clauses of which (printed in the originalFrench in Ryley's "Placeta Parliamentaria") is to the effect that as forWallace (Monsieur Guillaume de Galeys), he might, if he pleased, givehimself up to the king's mercy ("quil se mette en la voluntè et en lagrace nostre seigneur le Roy, si lui semble, que bon soit"). He was soonafter summoned to appear before a parliament or convention of Scotch andEnglish nobility, held at St. Andrew's; and upon their not presentingthemselves, he and Sir Simon Frisel, or Fraser, were pronounced outlaws. For some time his retreat remained undiscovered, although his activehostility still continued occasionally to make itself felt. A principalperson employed in the attempts to capture him appears to have beenRalph de Haliburton; but how he was actually taken is not known. SirJohn Menteith (a son of Walter Stewart, Earl of Menteith), to whosetreachery his delivery to the English king is attributed by Blind Harryand popular tradition, appears to have really done nothing more thanforward him to England after he was brought a prisoner to DumbartonCastle, of which Menteith was governor under a commission from Edward. 

On being brought to London, Wallace was lodged in the house of WilliamDelect, a citizen, in Fenchurch Street; and on the next day, being theeve of St. Bartholomew, he was brought on horseback to Westminster, andin the hall there, "being placed on the south bench, " says Stow, "crowned with laurel for that he had said in times past that he ought tobear a crown in that all, " he was arraigned as a traitor, and on thatcharge found guilty, and condemned to death. After being dragged to theusual place of execution--the Elms, in West Smithfield--at the tails ofhis horses, he was there hanged on a high gallows, on August 23, 1305, after which he was "drawn and quartered. " His right arm was set up atNewcastle, his left at Berwick; his right leg at Perth, his left atAberdeen; his head on London Bridge. Wallace's daughter, by the heiressof Lamington, married Sir William Bailie, of Hoprig, whose descendantsthrough her inherited the estate of Lamington. 

ROBERT BRUCE

By Sir J. BERNARD BURKE, LL. D. 

(1274-1329)

Robert Bruce was born in the year 1274, on the Feast of the translationof St. Benedict, being March 21st, and was undoubtedly of Norman origin. In an annual roll containing the names of those knights and barons whocame over with William the Conqueror, we find that of Brueys; and fromthe Domesday Book it appears that a family of the same name werepossessed of lands in Yorkshire. Coming down to a later period, 1138, when David I. Of Scotland made his fatal attack upon England--fatal, that is, to himself and his people--the English barons, previous to thebattle of Cutton Moor, near Northallerton, sent a message to theScottish king, by Robert Bruce, of Cleveland, a Norman knight, whopossessed estates in either country. Upon his death, this knightbequeathed his English lands to his eldest son, and those in Annandaleto his younger, who received a confirmation of his title by a charter ofWilliam the Lion. From this root sprung Robert Bruce, the competitor forthe crown with Baliol, whose grandson was the more celebrated RobertBruce, the younger, Earl of Carrick in virtue of his mother's title, andafterward King of Scotland. He was the eldest of three brothers andseven sisters, whose marriages with some of the leading families ofScotland proved an important element of success to the future hero. Hisearliest years were passed at the castle of Turnberry, where his motherresided; but as he grew older, his father, who considered himself anEnglish baron, thought proper that he should be removed to the Englishcourt. The friendship subsisting between Edward the First and the Earlof Carrick induced the former to adopt the earl's son; so that theconfiding monarch trained up his mortal enemy in the use of those artsand weapons which were one day to be turned against himself. 

[Illustration: Robert Bruce. ]

The family of Bruce, as we have already noticed, were competitors forthe Scottish throne with Baliol, in whose favor an award was pronouncedby Edward, when called upon to arbitrate between them. At this time theelder Bruce was far advanced in years; his son, the Earl of Carrick, wasstill in the prime of life, and his grandson, Robert Bruce was eighteenyears of age. Upon the old man being required to do homage for his landsin Scotland to the new monarch of that country, he indignantly refused, exclaiming, "I am Baliol's sovereign, not Baliol mine; and rather thanconsent to such a homage, I resign my lands in Annandale to my son, theEarl of Carrick. " But Carrick was not less proud, or averse to anythingthat might call in question his claim to the crown of Scotland, and inlike manner refused to hold any lands of Baliol. As, however, accordingto the feudal law, he must either divest himself of his estate, or dohomage for it, he adopted the former alternative, and resigned the landsof Annandale in favor of his son, Robert. The young baron, lessscrupulous than his relatives, did not hesitate to accept his father'sgift, which, upon feudal principles, carried with it the title of Earlof Carrick, and did homage for the same to Baliol. By his father'sdeath, in 1304, he became possessed of the family estates in England. 

From this time Bruce played his part with skill, though in justice itmust be allowed that his patriotism was not altogether without the alloyof a selfish ambition; and perhaps it would be expecting too much fromhuman nature, even in its best and highest forms, to look for anythingelse. Neither can we free him from the charge of dissimulation in thathe swore a fealty to Baliol, which it is plain he never intended toobserve, and affected gratitude and attachment for the English monarch, while in secret he was preparing to undermine him. An excuse for thishas been sought by his more partial admirers in the necessity of thecase, arising from the well-known sagacity of Edward, who wouldotherwise have penetrated his purposes and crushed them in the budwithout scruple. Nor was this the only obstacle in his path to empire. Upon the failure of Baliol and his only son, Edward, the ancient andpowerful family of the Comyns were ready to dispute his title to thecrown, which they claimed for themselves. John, commonly called the RedComyn, who had been the determined opponent of Wallace, possessed, inthe event of the monarch dying without issue, the same right to thethrone which was vested in Bruce himself. He, too, had connected himselfby marriage with the royal family of England, and was at this time oneof the most powerful subjects in Scotland. When Baliol leagued withComyn to throw off the supremacy of Edward, whose hand, whether justlyor not, had raised him to the Scottish throne, the Bruces and theirparty, tempted by the promise of a crown, lent their best aid to theEnglish monarch. Upon the termination of the campaign the elder Brucedemanded the fulfilment of Edward's promise, to which the latterindignantly replied that he had not come into Scotland to conquer akingdom for him; so that Bruce reaped nothing else at the time from hisservice, than the satisfaction of seeing his rival, Baliol, dethroned, and the influence of the Comyns effectually diminished. 

In 1296 Edward held a parliament at Berwick, compelling the Scotchbarons to do him homage, and the young lord of Carrick concurred in thenational submission. But notwithstanding this outward show of fealty, hebecame, in the time of Wallace's success, suspected of entertainingdesigns upon the crown. At first, indeed, he had joined against Wallace, and wasted the lands of his adherent, Douglas, with fire and sword; yet, soon after his return home, he summoned the Annandale men, who were thevassals of his father, then in the service of Edward, and thus addressedthem: "You have already heard, without doubt, of that solemn oath, whichI lately took at Carlisle, and I cannot deny the fact; but the oath wasa foolish one, and exacted by fear; it was my body that took the oath, and not my mind; but its having been taken at all is now to me the causeof much remorse and sorrow; yet erelong I hope to be absolved from it byour Holy Father. In the meanwhile, I am resolved to go and join myfellow-countrymen, and assist them in their efforts to restore to itsliberty the land of my nativity, for none, as you know, is an enemy ofhis own flesh, and as for me, I love my people. Let me beseech you, then, to adopt the same resolution, and you shall ever be esteemed mymost dear friends and approved counsellors. "

To this request the men of Annandale deferred giving any answer till themorning, and took advantage of the night to retire, so that Bruce couldonly join the insurgents with his own vassals of Carrick. 

The first disappointment might have taught Bruce to desist from hisdesign, for which the time was not yet ripe; but blinded by ambition, heentered into a strict alliance with Wishart, the Bishop of Glasgow, andthe Steward of Scotland, the principal leaders of the insurrection. Uponjoining his new associates, he found their purposes utterly incompatiblewith his views upon the crown. Wallace, the soul of the party, had eversupported the claims of Baliol, and his great supporter, Sir AndrewMoray, a near connection of the Comyns, had the same object. During thecampaign, therefore, of 1298, which concluded with the battle ofFalkirk, Bruce shut himself up in his castle of Ayr, maintaining acautious neutrality, while his father continued to reside in England andto serve Edward in his wars. The king, however, did not admire this coldsystem of neutrality. He in consequence determined to attack the castleof Ayr, and Bruce, dreading the consequences, razed it to the ground, and sought an asylum in the mountain fastnesses of Carrick. 

In the following year, when Wallace had resigned the regency, JohnComyn, of Badenoch, and Sir John de Soulis, were chosen governors of thekingdom, and the party of Bruce availed themselves of the opportunity toadvance his influence by opposition to those in power, and by defeatingevery measure taken for the public benefit. An attempt was made by thosewho really wished well to the national cause, or who dreaded that theirdisunion might be fatal to all alike, to reconcile the contendingfactions; with this view they elected Bruce, and Lamberton, Bishop ofGlasgow, joint regents in the name of Baliol; but this ill-assortedcoalition soon fell to pieces, as might have been expected, where theviews which one party entertained in secret were so utterly opposed tothe avowed purposes of all. 

The policy which actuated Bruce on this occasion may be easilyexplained. It was clear that Edward would never consent to therestoration of Baliol, then in exile, and the Comyns had taken sodecided a part against him, that it seemed most improbable he would everconsent to raise one of that family to the throne. Continuing, therefore, the same line of duplicity with which he had commenced, andwhich he had only abandoned for a single instant in the vain hope ofpersuading the party of Wallace to openly adopt his claims, he nowendeavored by submission and affected attachment to win the favor of theEnglish monarch. Edward, he well knew, had the power, could he bebrought to entertain the inclination, to place him on the Scottishthrone, and if this point were once attained, Bruce trusted that meanswould afterward occur of shaking off all dependence upon his benefactor. In these designs he to a certain extent succeeded, but not in his mainobject. If he was crafty, Edward was yet craftier. He had fallen intothe same error that his father had, in 1296, and was outwitted by thesuperior political ability of him whom he had intended to deceive, andwho, it must be confessed, was equally insincere. Edward cheated bothfather and son, by holding out to them the hope of a crown he nevermeant them to attain, his object being to unite the two countries; anexcellent purpose in itself, if we could only bring ourselves tooverlook the fraud and violence by which it was to be accomplished. When, therefore, the Comyns submitted, in 1304, and he proceeded to thesettlement of his new dominions, the Earl of Carrick found that his onlygain was the being employed among the commissioners in organizing asystem of government. He had, however, reaped no little advantage fromhis dissimulation. While Baliol was an exile and Comyn in disgrace, hehad preserved his estates, and won the king's confidence without losing, but rather augmenting, his influence with the Scotch. At the same timehe saw that Comyn was still powerful; his claims to the throne were moregenerally admitted by the people, and without his concurrence nothingcould be effected. Thus situated, Bruce submitted to his rival thisalternative: "Give me your land, and I shall bind myself to support yourtitle to the kingdom, and, when we have expelled our enemies, to placethe crown upon your head; or, if thou dost not choose to assume thestate of the kingdom, here am I ready to resign to you my estates, oncondition that you second me in my efforts to regain the throne of myfathers. " Comyn accepted the latter alternative, but immediatelybetrayed the design to Edward, and sent him the letter, or indenture, bywhich Bruce had bound himself. But the latter, when suddenly chargedwith it, denied his hand and seal with a coolness that could only belongto one long practised in the arts of dissimulation, and demanded time toprove his innocence. Arch-deceiver as the English king himself was, heyet allowed himself to be duped by this specious effrontery, and Bruceescaping into Scotland, murdered Comyn in the church of the Grey Friars, at Dumfries. Soon afterward he was crowned at Scone, and the revolutionspread far and wide; upon hearing which, Edward sent an invading armyinto Scotland. Superiority of force and military skill soon compelledBruce to retreat to the mountain fastnesses, that offered a better placeof security than the strongest castle, for castles might be stormed; buthere, if danger threatened him at one point, he had only to retreat toone more remote and more rugged, and thus at any time was enabled tobaffle his pursuers when he found them too powerful to be resisted. Aseries of fights--battles they could hardly be called--and adventuresnow ensued which have all the coloring of romance, but which entailed somuch of hardness and privation upon his followers, that after a while itbecame evident he would not be able much longer to keep them fromabandoning a cause so desperate. Then, again, a spark of hope waskindled by the disaffection growing out of the severity which Edwardexercised upon all who had been in arms to resist him. Numbers inconsequence flocked to Bruce, and fresh adventures succeeded of a yetmore romantic nature than those already mentioned; the fortunes of thewanderer seeming now to be at the lowest ebb, and then again rising intoa prosperous flood, which as rapidly subsided, making it a matter ofsome difficulty for him to escape being stranded by the falling waters. It was during this season that Douglas disgraced himself and theScottish name by barbarities that have never been surpassed, and rarelyeven equalled. 

The death of the great Edward--for great he was, in spite of all hisfaults--and the accession of his son, the feeble Edward II. , left anopen field to Bruce, who was as much superior to those that now opposedhim, as he had been overcrowned by the genius of his late adversary. Hemarched from victory to victory, and would, no doubt, have brought thecontest to a happy termination, had he not been seized by an alarmingsickness. At first, it threatened to be fatal; things were againbeginning to look gloomy for Scotland; but in the moment of extremeperil, he shook off his disease by a strong effort, and once more ledhis followers through a series of triumphs, which were crowned by thegreat battle of Bannockburn. Though we cannot allow the ambition whichseeks a crown to pass for patriotism, it is impossible to deny thehighest praise to the courage, firmness, and ability displayed by Brucethrough the whole of this trying period. None may deny that he deserveda crown, and when once obtained, it acquired a lustre from the talentsof him who wore it. 

Bruce soon found himself in a condition to assist his brother Edward inthe attempt to drive the English out of Ireland. But here the usual goodfortune of the Scotch abandoned them. After a hard-fought campaign, attended by many vicissitudes, his sagacity saw that the attempt washopeless, and he returned to Scotland. Shortly afterward, the turbulentand aspiring Edward Bruce was slain in battle. 

His wonted success attended Bruce in the field, in the midst of which, however, a plot was formed against his life and government. Fortunatelyit was revealed in time by the Countess of Strathearn, to whom theconspirators had the weakness to confide their intentions; and soonafterward, to crown his prosperity, Edward II. Was compelled by a seriesof defeats to conclude a peace. But Bruce's health began to be impaired, and when war again broke out between the countries, upon the depositionof Edward II. And the succession of his son, Edward III. , he was unableto lead his projected expedition against England. It ended in failure, if not in defeat. 

A short interval of health and hope gleamed upon him after this attack, and peace was concluded between the two countries, greatly to thedissatisfaction of the English, who, justly enough, consideredthemselves sacrificed to the ambition of the queen-mother, Isabella, andof her favorite, Mortimer. But this momentary promise of health andvigor soon passed away, and it became plain to all that the life of thisbrave and sagacious monarch was drawing rapidly to a close. Inexpectation of the final event he had given orders to have a magnificenttomb made at Paris; which was brought to Bruges, thence through Englandinto Scotland, and on its arrival erected in the church of theBenedictines at Dunfermline. 

Bruce died in his fifty-fifth year, and was buried in the abbey-churchof Dunfermline, as he had desired. 

In the prime of his life Bruce was upward of six feet high; hisshoulders were broad, his chest full and open; the cheek-bones strongand prominent, and the muscles of the back and neck of great size andthickness; his hair curled short over a broad forehead, and the generalexpression of his face was calm and cheerful; yet, when he pleased, hecould assume a character of stern command. Such, at least, Bruce hasbeen described by the old historian, and we may easily believe it, sincethe outward semblance agrees so well with what is recorded of his lifeand actions. 

ARNOLD VON WINKELRIED

(DIED, 1386)

[Illustration: Arnold von Winkelried. ]

The incident with which this name is connected is, after the purelylegendary feat of Tell, the best known and most popular in the earlyhistory of the Swiss Confederation. We are told how, at a criticalmoment in the great battle of Sempach, when the Swiss had failed tobreak the serried ranks of the Austrian knights, a man of Unterwalden, Arnold von Winkelried by name, came to the rescue. Commending his wifeand children to the care of his comrades, he rushed toward theAustrians, gathered a number of their spears together against hisbreast, and fell pierced through, having opened a way into the hostileranks for his fellow-countrymen, though at the price of his own life. But the Tell and Winkelried stories stand in a very different positionwhen looked at in the dry light of history; for, while in the formerimaginary and impossible men (bearing now and then a real historicalname) do imaginary and impossible deeds at a very uncertain period, inthe latter we have some solid ground to rest on, and Winkelried's actmight very well have been performed, though, as yet, the amount ofgenuine and early evidence in support of it is very far from beingsufficient. 

The Winkelrieds of Stanz were a knightly family when we first hear ofthem, though toward the end of the fourteenth century they seem to havebeen but simple men without the honors of knighthood, and not alwaysusing their prefix "von. " Among its members we find an Erni Winkelriedacting as a witness to a contract of sale on May 1, 1367; while the sameman, or perhaps another member of the family, Erni von Winkelried, isplaintiff in a suit at Stanz, on September 29, 1389, and in 1417 is thelandamman (or head-man) of Unterwalden, being then called ArnoldWinkelriet. We have, therefore, a real man named Arnold Winkelriedliving at Stanz, about the time of the battle of Sempach. The questionis thus narrowed to the points, was he present at the battle, and did hethen perform the deed commonly attributed to him? The determination ofthis question requires a minute investigation of the history of thatbattle, to ascertain if there are any authentic traces of thisincident, or any opportunity for it to have taken place. 

1. EVIDENCE OF CHRONICLES. --The earliest known mention of the incidentis found in a Zurich chronicle (discovered in 1862 by Herr G. Von Wyss), which is a copy, made in 1476, of a chronicle written in, or at any ratenot earlier than, 1438, though it is wanting in the sixteenth centurytranscript of another chronicle written in 1466, which up to 1389closely agrees with the former. It appears in the well-known form, butthe hero is stated to be "ein getrüwer man under den Eidgenozen, " noname being given, and it seems clear that his death did not take placeat that time. No other mention has been found in any of the numerousSwiss or Austrian chronicles, till we come to the book "De HelvetiæOrigine, " written in 1538 by Rudolph Gwalther (Zwingli's son-in-law), when the hero is still nameless, being compared to Decius or Codrus, butis said to have been killed by his brave act. Finally we read the fullstory in the original draft of Giles Tschudi's chronicle, where the herois described "as a man of Unterwalden, of the Winkelried family, " thisbeing expanded in the first rescension of the chronicle (1564) into "aman of Unterwalden, Arnold von Winkelried by name, a brave knight;"while he is entered (in the same book, on the authority of the"Anniversary Book" of Stanz, now lost) on the list of those who fell atSempach, at the head of the Nidwald (or Stanz) men, as "Herr Arnold vonWinkelried, ritter, " this being in the first draft "Arnold Winckelriet. "

2. BALLADS. --There are several war songs on the battle of Sempachwhich have come down to us, but in one only is there mention ofWinkelried and his deed. This is a long ballad of sixty-sevenfour-line stanzas, part of which (including the Winkelried section)is found in the additions made between 1531 and 1545 to Etterlin'schronicle by H. Berlinger of Basel, and the whole in WernerSteiner's chronicle (written 1532). It is agreed on all sides thatthe last stanza, attributing the authorship to Halbsuter, ofLucerne, "as he came back from the battle, " is a very late addition. Many authorities regard it as made up of three distinct songs (oneof which refers to the battle and Winkelried), possibly put togetherby the younger Halbsuter (citizen of Lucerne in 1435, died between1470 and 1480); though others contend that the Sempach-Winkelriedsection bears clear traces of having been composed after theReformation began, that is, about 1520 or 1530. Some recentdiscoveries have proved that certain statements in the song, usuallyregarded as anachronisms, are quite accurate; but no nearer approachhas been made toward fixing its exact date, or that of any of thethree bits into which it has been cut up. In this song the storyappears in its full-blown shape, the name of Winckelriet beinggiven. 

[Illustration: Arnold Winkelried At Sempach. ]

JOAN OF ARC[8]

 [Footnote 8: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By ELLA WHEELER WILCOX

(1412-1431)

[Illustration: Joan of Arc. ]

In the history of the world since the dawn of time, there is no othercharacter so remarkable to me as that of Joan of Arc. 

You have but to think of any young girl of your acquaintance, seventeenyears old, and try to imagine her leading an army to battle, storming afort, or planning a campaign, in order to realize in a measure theastounding qualities possessed by this wonderful being. 

Not only did she do all this as wisely as the most astute general whoever lived, but she succeeded in liberating France from the hands of theEnglish, where we have very good reason to think it might have otherwiseremained to this day; for the English were gaining ground steadily, andthe French dauphin was utterly discouraged, and had ceased to make aneffort to maintain his rights, when Joan of Arc came to his rescue. 

The English king, Henry V. , had died in the midst of his triumphs. Twomonths later, imbecile Charles VI. , of France, passed away also, andHenry VI. , of England, was proclaimed king of both nations; while at thesame time the dauphin was hailed King of France by his few followers. But his fortunes were at the lowest ebb, his small army, stationed atOrleans, was in need of food. Four thousand of his men went out tosearch for provisions, and encountered half that number of Englishsoldiers. A battle ensued, and five hundred of the bravest Frenchsoldiers were left dead on the field of strife. Despite their bravery, hunger and fatigue had unfitted them to combat with their well-fedadversaries. 

The dauphin had shut himself in the castle of Chinon, with fair womenand gay comrades, while the siege was raging before the walls ofOrleans. He was at that time a weak and vacillant youth, given over tothe same pleasures and vices which drove his father mad and caused hisbrother's death. He had no pride in rescuing his crown from the English, and it must be confessed that the treatment he had received from his ownmother and his own countrymen, who sold him to the enemy, was sufficientto dishearten a stronger nature than his. Added to this, he was doubtfulof his legitimate right to the throne, owing to his mother's depravedcareer. But when, in the midst of his orgies, the news was brought tohim, in the castle of Chinon, that his army was defeated before thewalls of Orleans, what little hope or courage he had left seemed todesert him and he sank into a state of despair. 

And far away on the frontier, in the little village of Domremy, a younggirl watched her flocks, and wept over the fate of her beloved country;and weeping, prayed that God would save France from the oppressor. Howearnestly she prayed, and how well God listened, history has recorded ina tale more wonderful than any story ever conceived by the imaginationof man, and sadder than any other save the story of the Nazarene uponthe Cross of Calvary. 

The end of France as a nation seemed at hand. The nobility had been ledinto captivity and sold to an invading enemy; the clergy had seen itsaltars defamed by arrogant strangers. Industry had been ruined by civilwars during the long imbecility of Charles VI. , and the succeedingravages made by the English. Villages were depopulated, homes desolated, and look where they might, the people of France saw no hope of aid, savefrom on high. 

Of this epoch Henry Martin says, "The people expected nothing from humansources; but a sentiment of indestructible nationality stirred in theirhearts and told them that France could not die. Hoping nothing fromearth, they lifted their souls to heaven; an ardent religious fervorseized upon them, which had no part with clergy or creed. It rose fromthe extremity of their need, and fixed its root in an old oracle of theMiddle Ages, which had predicted that France should be 'lost through awoman and saved by a virgin. '"

France had certainly been lost through its wicked queen; that part ofthe old prophecy had been fearfully fulfilled; the remaining clause wasyet to be verified. The people, excited to a religious frenzy by theirdesperate straits and their faith in the old superstition, prayed morefervently with each day; and their prayers rose like great white eaglesand settled upon the heart of that strange divine child, who was weepingover the fate of France while she watched her sheep on the plains ofDomremy. 

A humbly born girl was Joan of Arc, unable to read or write; women whocould do more than that were rare in those days, so she was not despisedon account of her ignorance, but highly respected for her industry andpiety. An enthusiastic Catholic, she added to her church duties byactive benevolence and kindness to the sick and poor in her native town. Often she was seen to kneel in the fields and pray; and there was achapel some miles from Domremy to which she used to make a pilgrimageevery Sunday and offer prayers to the Virgin. There was, too, in theforest of Bois Chemin a famous beech-tree under which a stream of clearwater flowed; and a superstition prevailed among the people of Domremythat fairies had blessed this tree and bestowed healing properties uponthe waters of the stream. The priest and the villagers marched about thesacred tree once each year singing solemn chants, and the young peoplehung its boughs with garlands, and danced under its shading branches. Joan dearly loved this spot, and it became her favorite haunt. Theechoes of war reverberated even to this quiet frontier hamlet, and inher hours of reverie she dwelt sadly upon the stories of bloodshed andsuffering which she heard her elders repeat. 

She was twelve years old when the dauphin was proclaimed king by his fewfollowers; and in all his flight from province to province, fleeingbefore the usurpers of his throne, no heart in all France suffered morekeenly than the heart beating in the breast of this humble shepherdgirl. The misfortunes of the dauphin, the woes of her country, tookcomplete possession of her expanding mind. Her pure young soul yearnedtoward the Infinite in one ceaseless prayer; and when any soul is solifted up above all thought of self, praying for the good of others, aresponse never fails to come. It is only selfish prayers which remainunanswered. Joan's beautiful nature was like the sensitive plateprepared to receive the impression; and while she prayed the angels tosave France, the angels prepared her to become the saviour. 

One summer day, when she was in her fourteenth year, she was running inthe fields with her companions, when, as she afterward declared, "shefelt herself lifted as by an invisible force and carried along as if shepossessed wings. " Her companions gazed upon her with astonishment, seeing her fly beyond their reach. Then she heard a voice, whichproceeded from a great light above her; and the voice said, "Joan, putyour trust in God, and go and save France. "

This strange experience filled her with terror; but ere many days sheheard the voice again, and this time she saw the figure of a wingedangel. "I am the Archangel Michael, " the voice said, "and the messengerof God, who bids you to go to the aid of the dauphin and restore him tohis throne. "

Overcome with fear, she fell on her knees in tears; but the angelcontinued to appear to her, accompanied with two female forms, andalways urging her to go to the aid of her country. Fear gave place toecstacy, and in the heart of this divine child awoke the audacious ideawhose climax astounded the whole world. 

At first she reasoned with the voices, telling them "she was but a poorgirl, who knew nothing of men or war. " But the voices replied, "Go andsave France; God will be with you, and you have nothing to fear. "

During three years she listened to these voices, which made themselvesheard by her two or three times each week. She seemed consumed by aninward fever, and strange words escaped her. One day she said to alaborer, that "midway between Coussi and Vaucouleurs there lived a maidwho should bring the dauphin to his throne. "

These words were repeated to her father and they alarmed him; and wecannot wonder that they did. How could he think otherwise than that hislittle girl was losing her senses? How could he dream of the divine andsuperhuman powers that had descended upon her from a higher world? Hetold her brother that if Joan should attempt to follow the army, as hefeared she might, "he would rather drown her with his own hands. " Herparents set a watch upon her movements, and decided to marry her to ayoung man who was secretly enamored of her. They connived with thisadmirer to swear before an officer of the law that Joan had promised himher heart; but she so strenuously denied the assertion before the judgethat she gained her case. 

Just at this epoch the people of Domremy were obliged to fly before aninvading troop of soldiers. When they returned to their village theyfound their church burned and their homes pillaged. Joan regarded thisas a direct punishment for her hesitation in heeding the "voices. " Shewould hesitate no longer, and after repeated delays and dishearteningrebuffs, she succeeded in winning her way, with a few believers in hermission, to the king's castle. 

When Charles finally consented to an interview, he disguised one of hiscourtiers as king, and he was disguised as a courtier; but Joan was notdeceived by clothing; she fell at his feet, clasped his knees, andexclaimed, "Gentle king, God has taken pity on you and your people; theangels are on their knees praying for you and them. "

The king was impressed with her lofty enthusiasm, and plied her withquestions. Her responses astonished him. One reliable authority tells usthat she revealed to him something known only to himself--and answered aquestion which he had that day demanded of God in the privacy ofprayer--the question of his legitimate right to the throne. Joan toldhim that he had asked this question of God, and that she was able toreply to it in the affirmative. 

The king was so astonished and overjoyed at this proof of the maiden'spowers, that he expressed belief in her divine mission; but he quicklyrelapsed into doubt again, and Joan was obliged to endure a verycritical examination before a parliament, where she confused andconfounded the learned doctors by her simple words: "I know not A or B, but I am commanded by my voices to raise the siege of Orleans and crownthe dauphin at Rheims. " When one aggressive doctor, with a bad accent, asked sarcastically; "what language her voices spoke, " she replied, "Better than yours, sir, " which brought the laughter of the wholeparliament upon him. A messenger sent to Domremy, to ascertain the earlyconduct of the maid, returned with accounts of her piety andbenevolence. All this worked in her favor, together with the strongfaith which the masses reposed in her; for the people remembered the oldprophecy and believed that the maiden had come to deliver France. 

Even the doctors of theology were affected by this prophecy, and theresult was the final equipment of Joan for battle. When arrayed in aknight's armor she refused to accept a sword. "The voices told me, " shesaid, "that in the church vault at Fierbois there lies a sword markedwith five crosses which I must carry, and no other. "

A messenger was sent, who found the sword exactly as she had describedit. This naturally swelled the faith of the people in her divinemission. She ordered a white banner made, covered with the lilies ofFrance, and with the inscription, "Jesus Maria, " emblazoned upon it. Atthe end of two months she entered the town of Blois, where the army wasstationed, seated upon a fine horse, her head bare, her dark curlsstreaming in the wind, an air of triumph and joy on her face. Sixthousand soldiers were drawn up to receive her. But the pleasure-lovingyoung dauphin, be it said to his shame, was enjoying himself in hiscastle and was not there to meet her. Nothing had yet been decided aboutthe position Joan was to occupy, but the wild enthusiasm of the army atonce made her its leader. 

The very first act of this pure being was an attempt to uplift the moralstatus of the army. Women of evil repute were sent away with goodadvice, and the men were called to battle by prayer and confession. Coarse soldiers followed her to mass, fascinated by her peculiar spell, and rough language was silenced in her presence. Remarkable as hasseemed Joan's career up to this point, it was simple compared to themiracles which ensued. Modest as the simplest maiden in private life, gentle as a child in all matters pertaining to herself, utterly devoidof self-seeking interests, she was yet enabled to plan campaigns, directattacks and lead armies with all the skill of any world-renownedgeneral. In the dead of night, with a band of 200 men, she entered thebeleaguered city of Orleans in the face of the English enemy. Theinhabitants crowded about her, regarding her rightly with wonder andawe. Her first act was to hasten to a cathedral where the Te Deum wasbeing chanted by torch-light. She then selected her home with a lady ofspotless reputation, in order that all her hours of repose might beguarded from suspicions of evil. The following day she directed a letterof warning to be sent to the English, urging them to retreat beforecompelled to do so by the "fire of Heaven. " She then reconnoitred thecity, determining in her mind where to begin the attack; and as she sawno signs that the English had taken heed of her letter, she finallymounted the walls of the town, and in a loud voice warned the English todepart before overtaken with the shame and disaster in store for them. To this the English responded with insults and ribald words, and toldher to "Go home and keep her cows. " Joan wept at their insults to hermodesty, and would have at once opened an attack, had she not beendissuaded by her generals, who begged her to await the arrival of herarmy. 

Despite their bold words, the English were so influenced by Joan'speculiar power, that they allowed her army to enter Orleans with aconvoy of provisions, and made no resistance. They seemed to beparalyzed with fear, and many of them expressed a belief that she wasaided by the devil. Although the maid was immensely popular with thearmy, a lurking secret jealousy of her was already at work in thebreasts of some of her officers; and these men chose an hour when shewas taking a brief repose, to open an attack upon the English, hoping totake the glory of a conquest to themselves. But Joan's Voices awoke her, and told her the blood of France was being spilled; and seizing herwhite banner, she mounted her horse, and rushed into the strife, turningthe tide of battle at once in favor of the French army, which hadalready suffered loss. Wherever the white flag was seen, a superhumanstrength seemed to take possession of the men; and after a fierce battleof three hours, the bastile of St. Loup was won by the French. 

The bastile des Augustins fell next, and here Joan was slightly woundedin the foot; but she resolved to attack the only remaining hold of theEnglish the following day. Her officers counselled together and reportedthemselves unfavorable to this project, as the bastile des Tournelleswas very strong, and filled with the bravest of the English army. ButJoan replied, "I, too, have been at council with God, and we shall fightto-morrow. "

They did fight, the English with fury, the French "as if they believedthemselves immortal. " After three hours of warfare Joan saw her menhesitate under the fierce attack of the enemy. She seized a ladder, planted it against a wall, and began to ascend it. At that moment anEnglish arrow struck her between the neck and shoulder, and she fell tothe ground. The disheartened soldiers bore her from the field, anddressed her wound, from which she extracted the arrow with her own hand, shedding womanly tears meanwhile. After the wound was dressed, a visioncame to her, and with sudden strength she remounted her horse and rodeback to battle. 

The English, believing her nearly dead from her wound, were terrified tosee her return, and lost courage from that moment; while the French, electrified by her unexpected presence, fought with such zeal thatbefore nightfall the maid led her army into Orleans crowned withtriumph. It was only seven days since she had entered the city, and Joanhad already verified her assertion that she could and would "raise thesiege of Orleans. "

The indolent and unworthy dauphin, however, refused to go to Rheims andbe crowned and so fulfil the second part of Joan's mission. He saidthere were ports along the Loire which needed to be taken first so thegirl general laid out her campaign and added Beaugency and Jargeau toher other conquests. The English had become filled with superstitiousfear of her power, attributing it to the devil. But the Dauphin ofFrance still dallied with light women in his castle, and treated Joanwith coldness and suspicion. The army now became so unanimous in thedesire that the king should go to Rheims, that he finally, withreluctance, consented. On July 16th, after having taken Troyes andChalons on the way, the French army entered Rheims; and there, on thefollowing day, the dauphin was anointed with holy oil and received thecrown of France. 

Happy, but modest and humble in her happiness, rejoicing only in theprosperity of the king and the country, the sublime saviour of her landknelt before her sovereign after the ceremonies were concluded and said, "Gentle king, I wish now that I might return toward my father and mymother, to keep my flocks and my herds as heretofore. " Alas for thehappiness of the poor girl and the honor of two countries, that herrequest was not granted!

Joan's father was present on this occasion, and the inn where he lodgedat the king's expense, and the cathedral where the dauphin was crowned, still exist in Rheims. 

[Illustration: Joan of Arc. ]

During all Joan's life as a soldier and general, she exhibited a mosttouching humanity toward the conquered enemy. She would spring from herhorse to sooth the wounds of a suffering English soldier, and it isrecorded of her that she carried a dying enemy in her arms to aconfessor, and remained with him till his soul took flight. The peopleadored her, the soldiers of her army idolized her, and the king realizedthat she was of too great value to him to permit her to go in peace toher old humble home. So Joan remained, asking that the king wouldremove all impost from the village of Domremy, in place of bestowing atitle upon her family as he offered to do. For three hundred years herrequest was obeyed. From this time to the tragic end, the story ofJoan's life is a hard one to relate. Although we are nearing the fifthcentennial of her birth, the recital of her sufferings and death muststill wring tears from every heart which is not made of stone. Thefeeling of jealousy which great success, of even the most worthy andnoble souls, arouses in meaner natures, had already sprung up againstJoan. This feeling increased as the days passed by and she added moreand more to her glory by the conquest of Laon, Soissons, Compiègne, andBeauvais. Paris was next besieged, and here Joan was seriously wounded, an event which depressed the king and the army. 

Her wound disabled her from action, and she was left lying on the fielduntil evening, neglected, and seemingly forgotten. Already conscious ofthe growing sentiment of jealousy among her officers, this final proofof their indifference to her fate must have been more painful to herpure and lofty mind than the physical agony she was enduring. But evenlying there, wounded, she cheered on the men as they passed her in thecombat, and revived their failing courage. 

She was enabled to resume action the next day; her plans were allperfected, and judging from her past triumphs we can but suppose victorywould have attended her, had not that most remarkable mandate arrivedfrom the king, commanding the French army to retreat to Saint-Denis. 

To the undying shame of his memory be it said that Charles VII. Enteredinto a plot, with jealous enemies of Joan, to force failure upon her. The people and the soldiers had grown to believe her infallible; theking and his favorites determined that she should be proven fallible. They deemed the country sufficiently safe, the army sufficiently strong, to enable them to go on now and claim victories of their own, withouthaving their divine deliverer share the glory. 

Next to the crime of Isabel, who sold her son and her country to theenemy, this base act of Charles VII. Stands unparalleled in infamy. Sodiscouraged and heart-broken was Joan over the conduct of the king, although she did not understand the deep-laid plot against her, that sheresolved to abandon the life of a soldier and enter the church ofSaint-Denis. She hung up her armor and her sword, but when the kingheard of this he sent for her to return to the army. He was not yet sureof himself, and he wanted her where he could call upon her if need be. 

Joan returned with reluctance; "her Voices" counselled her to keep toher resolution; but she was so accustomed to obey the king, that for thefirst time she allowed an earthly voice to overrule the counsels of herheavenly guides. And from this hour her star set; from this hour herpath led into darkness. Soon after her return to the army she broke themagic sword with which she had achieved so many conquests; the Voices, too, were silent, and all this troubled her. The king kept her away fromall active warfare, and she grew restive and impatient with her life ofinaction. The army, which under her influence had been reformed of halfits vices, now separated from her by the king's orders and fell intothe most wild excesses. Joan prayed and pleaded to be allowed to goagain into combat, and finally the king allowed her to do so; but suchsuccess attended her, and such enthusiasm seized upon her soldiers, thatthe jealous favorites of the king were alarmed. They resolved to preventany further triumphs for her, but to pretend great friendship andadmiration meanwhile. 

The king was influenced to bestow honors and titles upon her family, andto present her two brothers, who had fought in the army, with swords ofsilver; all of which Joan received coldly and with indifference, formeantime she was suffering such agony as only so brave and valiant asoul could suffer in being kept from her duty. 

After four months of this galling life, Joan could not fail to see thatshe was the victim of a jealous plot. What suffering to a nature sohonest and self-sacrificing as hers, to discover that the king for whomshe had achieved such miracles, was a coward and a hypocrite, unworthyof her respect and faith. 

But it was surely this knowledge which actuated Joan to take a few bravemen, and without orders from the king, to go in aid of William de Flavy, commander of the fortress of Compiègne, who was in distress. She setout, and on the evening of May 24th, headed an attack upon the English. She fought nobly and well, but before the close of the combat, she wasobliged to sound a retreat, and as she was attempting to escape throughthe half-closed city gate, an English archer came up behind and pulledher to the ground. 

Joan of Arc was a prisoner. The joy of the English was overwhelming--thedespair of the French correspondingly great; and that despair gave placeto anger when it was learned that William de Flavy, the man whom she hadtried to defend, had betrayed her into the hands of the English becausehe was jealous of her. This man's wife slew him when she learned of hisbase act, and was pardoned for the crime when she told its cause. In allthe cities which Joan had delivered from English control, public prayersand processions were ordered; people walked barefooted and bareheaded, chanting the _Miserere_, in the streets of Tours. She was imprisonedfirst at Beaurevoir, then in the prison of Arras, and from there she wastaken to Le Crotoy. 

It was customary in those days to exchange prisoners taken in arms, orto ransom them; but the English had suffered such loss and defeatthrough Joan that they determined she should die. 

Their only way to do this without publicly dishonoring themselves, wasto accuse her of being a witch, and to compel the "religious" tribunalof her own land to become her murderer. 

During the first six months of her captivity Joan was treated humanely;but the defeat of the English at Compiègne awoke anew the superstitionsof the English, who believed that, though a prisoner, she exercised herspell upon the army; and she was taken to Le Crotoy, and cast into aniron cage with chains upon her wrists and ankles. After being starved, insulted, and treated with the most hellish brutality in prison fornearly ten months, the saviour of France was brought before a tribunalof men, all of them her enemies. There were three days of this shamefulpretence of a trial, and the holy maid, deserted by those whom she hadcrowned with glory and benefits, was trapped into signing a paper whichshe supposed only a form of abjuration, but which proved to be aconfession of all the crimes with which she was charged; and after shewas returned to her dungeon this was exhibited to the people to convincethem of her guilt and turn the tide of public sympathy. The Bishop ofBeauvais then sentenced her to prison for the rest of her life, oncondition that she resume woman's apparel; yet one morning she woke tofind no dress in her prison but the clothes she had worn in battle. Nosooner had she donned these than the bishop appeared, and accused her ofdisobedience to the orders of the Church, and he fixed her execution forthe next day. 

When the horrible fact was made known to her that she was to be burnedat the stake in the market-place of Rouen, before a multitude of people, she burst into piercing cries of agony. Her physical strength, courage, and brain-power were all impaired by the months of abuse she hadendured, and her very soul was torn by the neglect and indifferencewhich the base king manifested toward her. Up to the very last hour shehad believed deliverance would come, but it came only through death. Never since that spectacle of the bleeding Nazarene upon the Cross ofCalvary, has the world beheld so terrible a picture of crucifiedinnocence and purity as that of Joan of Arc, the saviour of France, burning in the market-place of Rouen. With her dying breath she criedout that the Voices were real, and that she had obeyed God in listeningto their counsels. 

Her last word was the name of--Jesus. 

[Signature: Ella Wheeler Wilcox. ]

HANS GUTENBERG

By ALPHONSE DE LAMARTINE

(1400-1468)

Hans Gensfleisch Gutenberg von Sorgeloch was a young patrician--born atMainz, a free and wealthy city on the banks of the Rhine, in the year1400. His father, Friel Gensfleisch, married Else von Gutenberg, whogave her name to her second son John. 

It is probable that if Mainz, his country, had not been a free city, this young gentleman would have been unable to conceive or to carry intoexecution his invention. Despotism and superstition equally insist uponsilence; they would have stifled the universal and resistless echo whichgenius was about to create for written words. Printing and liberty wereboth to spring from the same soil and the same climate. 

[Illustration: Hans Gutenberg. ]

Mainz, Strasburg, Worms, and other municipal towns on the Rhine, thengoverned themselves, under the suzerainty of the empire, as smallfederal republics, like Florence, Genoa, Venice, and the other states ofItaly. The nobility warlike, the burgesses increasing in importance, andthe laboring population vacillating between these two classes, whoalternately oppressed and courted it, from time to time, here aseverywhere, fought for supremacy. Outbursts of civil war, excited byvanity or interest, and in which the victory remained sometimes with thepatricians, sometimes with the burgesses, and at others with theartisans, made them alternately victors, conquered, and proscribed. Thisis the history of all cities, of all republics, and of all empires. Mainz, was a miniature of Rome or Athens, only the proscribed party hadnot the sea to cross to escape from their country; they went outside thewalls, and crossed the Rhine; those of Strasburg going to Mainz, andthose of Mainz to Strasburg, to wait until their party recovered power, or until they were recalled by their fellow-citizens. 

In these intestine struggles of Mainz, the young Gutenberg, himself agentleman, and naturally fighting for the cause most holy in a son'seyes--that of his father--was defeated by the burgesses, and banished, with all the knights of his family, from the territory of Mainz. Hismother and sisters alone remained there in possession of their property, as innocent victims on whom the faults of the nobility should not bevisited. His first banishment was short, and peace was ratified by thereturn of the refugees. A vain quarrel about precedence in the publicceremonies on the occasion of the solemn entry of the Emperor Robert, accompanied by the Archbishop Conrad, into Mainz, refreshed theanimosity of the two classes in 1420, and young Gutenberg, at the age ofnineteen, under went his second exile. 

The free city of Frankfort now offered itself as a mediator between thenobles and plebeians of Mainz, and procured their recall on condition ofthe governing magistracy being equally shared between the high classesand the burgesses. But Gutenberg, whether his valor in the civil war hadrendered him more obnoxious and more hostile to the burgesses; whetherhis pride, fostered by the traditions of his race, could not submitpatiently to an equality with plebeians; or whether, more probably, tenyears of exile and study at Strasburg had already turned the bent of histhoughts to a nobler subject than the vain honors of a free city, refused to return to his country. His mother, who watched over herson's interest at Mainz, petitioned the republic to allow him to receiveas a pension a small portion of the revenues of his confiscatedpossessions. The republic replied that the young patrician's refusal toreturn to his country was a declaration of war, and that the republicdid not pay its enemies. Gutenberg, persisting in his voluntary exileand in his disdain, lived on the secret remittances of his mother. 

But at Strasburg he already enjoyed so great a popularity for hisdisposition and his acquirements, that one day, when the chiefmagistrate of Mainz was passing the territory of Strasburg, he wasarrested by the friends of Gutenberg, shut up in a castle, and did notrecover his liberty until the city of Mainz had signed a treaty whichrestored the exile his patrimony. Thus this youth, the great tribune ofthe human mind, whose invention was destined to destroy forever theprejudices of race, and to restore, in after-times, liberty and civilequality to all the plebeians of the world, began his life, as yetunrecognized, at the head of the patrician party of his country, inthese struggles between the privileged castes and the people. Fortuneseemed to delight in the contrast. But Gutenberg's wisdom, increasingwith his age, was afterward destined to reunite the people and nobility, who looked on each other as enemies. 

The restoration of his goods allowed young Gutenberg to satisfy hisliterary, religious, and artistic tastes, by travelling from town totown to study monuments, and visit men of all conditions celebrated fortheir science, their art, or even their trade. The artisans of Germanythen held nearly the same rank as the artists. It was at the time whenthe trades, scarcely known, were confused with the arts, and when themost humble professions produced their earliest masterpieces, which, onaccount of their novelty, were looked upon as prodigies. Gutenbergtravelled alone, on foot, carrying a knapsack containing books andclothes, like a mere student visiting the schools, or a journeymanlooking for a master. He thus went through the Rhenish provinces, Italy, Switzerland, Germany, and lastly, Holland, not without an object, like aman who lets his imagination wander at the caprice of his footsteps, butcarrying everywhere with him a fixed idea, an unchanging will led by apresentiment. This guiding star was the thought of spreading the word ofGod and the Bible among a vaster number of souls. 

Thus it was religion which, in this young wandering apostle, was seekingthe soil wherein to sow a single seed, of which the fruit hereafter wasto be a thousand various grains. It is the glory of printing that it wasgiven to the world by religion, not by industry. Religious enthusiasmwas alone worthy to give birth to the instrument of truth. 

What mechanical processes Gutenberg may until then have revolved in hismind, remains unknown. Whatever they were, chance effaced them all, andbrought him at once upon his great discovery. One day, at Haarlem, inHolland, the verger of the cathedral, named Lawrence Koster, with whomhe had established friendly relations, showed him in the sacristy aLatin grammar, curiously wrought in engraved letters on a wooden board, for the instruction of the seminarists. Chance, that gratuitous teacher, had produced this approach to printing. 

The poor and youthful sacristan of Haarlem was in love. He used to walkon holydays to the spring outside the town, and sit under the willows bythe canals, to indulge in his day-dreams. His heart full of the image ofhis bride, he used to amuse himself, in true lover's fashion, byengraving with his knife the initials of his mistress and himself, interlaced, as an emblem of the union of their hearts and of theirinterwoven destinies. But, instead of cutting these ciphers on the bark, and leaving them to grow with the tree, like the mysterious ciphers sooften seen on the trees in the forests and by the brooks, he engravedthem on little blocks of willow stripped of their bark, and stillreeking with the moisture of their sap; and he used to carry them, as aremembrance of his dreams and a pledge of affection, to his lady-love. 

One day, having thus cut some letters on the green wood, probably withmore care and perfection than usual, he wrapped up his little work in apiece of parchment, and brought it with him to Haarlem. On opening itnext day to look at his letters, he was astonished to see the cipherperfectly reproduced in brown on the parchment by the relieved portionof the letters, the sap having oozed out during the night and imprintedits image on the envelope. This was a discovery. He engraved otherletters on a large platter, replaced the sap by a black liquid, and thusobtained the first proof ever printed. But it would only print a singlepage. The movable variety and endless combinations of charactersinfinitely multiplied, to meet the vast requirements of literature, werewanting. The invention of the poor sacristan would have covered thesurface of the earth with plates engraved or sculptured in relief, butwould not have been a substitute for a single case of movable type. Nevertheless, the principle of the art was developed in the sacristy ofHaarlem, and we might hesitate whether to attribute the honor of it toKoster or Gutenberg, if its invention had not been with one the mereaccidental discovery of love and chance, and, in the other, thewell-earned victory of patience and genius. 

At the sight of this coarse plank, the lightning from heaven flashedbefore the eyes of Gutenberg. He looked at the plank, and, in hisimagination, analyzed it, decomposed it, put it together again, changedit, divided it, readjusted it, reversed it, smeared it with ink, placedthe parchment on it, and pressed it with a screw. The sacristan, wondering at his long silence, was unwittingly present at thisdevelopment of an idea over which his visitor had brooded in vain forthe last ten years. When Gutenberg retired, he carried a new art withhim. 

On the morrow, like a man who possesses a treasure, and knows neitherrest nor sleep until he has hidden it safely, Gutenberg left Haarlem, hastened up the Rhine until he reached Strasburg, shut himself up in hiswork-room, fashioned his own tools, tried, broke, planned, rejected, returned to his plans, and again rejected them, only to return to themagain; and ended by secretly executing a fortunate proof upon parchmentwith movable wooden types, bored through the side with a small hole, strung together and kept close by a thread, like square beads on achaplet, each with a letter of the alphabet cut in relief on oneside--the first printer's alphabet, coarse, but wonderful--the firstcompany of twenty-four letters, which multiplied like the herds of thepatriarchs, until at last they covered the whole earth with writtencharacters, in which a new and immaterial element--human thought--becameincarnate. 

Gutenberg, perceiving at the first glance the immense social andindustrial bearing of his invention, felt that his weak hand, shortlife, and moderate property would be spent in vain on such a work. Heexperienced two opposite wants--the necessity of associating withhimself persons to assist in meeting the expenses and in executing themechanical labor, and the necessity of concealing from his assistantsthe secret and real object of their labors, for fear lest his inventionmight be divulged and pirated, and the glory and merit of his discoverytaken from him. He cast his eyes on the nobility and rich gentry of hisacquaintance at Strasburg and Mainz. He probably met with rebuffs fromall quarters, on account of the prejudice then prevailing thathandicrafts were derogatory to a gentleman. He was, therefore, obligedto sink his rank, become a workman, associate with artisans, and mixwith the people, in order to raise the people to the high level ofmorality and intelligence. 

Under the pretence of working together at _a new and marvellous craft_, such as jewelry, clock-making, and grinding and setting precious stones, he entered into a deed of partnership with two wealthy inhabitants ofStrasburg, Andrew Dritzchen and Hans Riffe, bailiff of Lichtenau; andafterward with Faust, a goldsmith and banker of Mainz, whose name, confounded with that of Faustus, the wondrous sorcerer of German fable, the master of mystery, and the friend of the Evil One, caused theinvention of printing to be attributed to magic; and, lastly, withHulmann, whose brother had just established the first paper-mill atStrasburg. 

In order the more effectually to conceal from his partners the realobject of his pursuit, Gutenberg joined them in several artistic andsecondary enterprises. Continuing in secret his mechanical researches onprinting, he employed himself publicly in these other occupations. Hetaught Dritzchen the art of cutting precious stones. He himself polishedVenetian glass for mirrors, or cut pieces of it into facets, settingthem in copper frames ornamented with wooden figurines representingpersonages from history or fable, from the Bible or the Testament. Thesearticles, which found sale at the fair of Aix-la-Chapelle, kept up thefunds of the association, and assisted Gutenberg in the secret expensesreserved for accomplishing and perfecting his design. 

To conceal it the better also from the restless curiosity of the public, who began to circulate a suspicion of witchcraft against him, Gutenbergleft the town, and established his workshop in the ruins of an olddeserted monastery, called the Convent of St. Arbogast. The solitude ofthe place, only inhabited by the houseless poor of the suburbs, coveredhis first attempts. 

In a corner of one of the vast cloisters of the monastery, occupied byhis partners for their less secret labors, Gutenberg had reserved forhimself a cell, always closed with lock and bolt, and to which none buthimself ever had access. He was supposed to go there to draw thedesigns, arabesques, and figurines for his jewelry and the frames of hisglasses; but he passed his days and sleepless nights there, wearinghimself out in the pursuit of his invention. There it was that heengraved his movable types in wood, and projected casting them in metal, and studied hard to find the means of inclosing them in _forms_, whetherof wood or of iron, to make the types into words, phrases, and lines, and to leave spaces on the paper. There it was that he invented coloredmediums, oleaginous and yet drying, to reproduce these characters, brushes and dabbers to spread the ink on the letters, boards to holdthem, and screws and weights to compress them. Months and years werespent, as well as his own fortune and the funds of the firm, in thesepersevering experiments, with alternate success and disappointment. 

At length, having made a model of a press, which seemed to him tocombine all the requirements of printing, according to his ideas at thattime, he concealed it under his cloak, and walking to the town, went toa skilful turner in wood and metal, named Conrad Saspach, who lived inthe Mercer's Lane, asking him to make the machine of full size. Herequested the workman to keep it secret, merely telling him that it wasa machine by the help of which he proposed to produce some masterpiecesof art and mechanism, of which the marvels should be known in due time. 

The turner, taking the model in his hands, and turning it backward andforward with the smile of contempt that a skilful artist usually puts onwhen looking at a rough specimen, said, somewhat scornfully, "But it isjust simply a press that you are asking me for, Master Hans!"

"Yes, " replied Gutenberg, with a grave and enthusiastic tone, "it is apress, certainly, but a press from which shall soon flow ininexhaustible streams the most abundant and most marvellous liquor thathas ever flowed to relieve the thirst of man! Through it God will spreadhis Word. A spring of pure truth shall flow from it; like a new star, itshall scatter the darkness of ignorance, and cause a light heretoforeunknown to shine among men. " He retired. The turner, who understood notthese words, made the machine, and delivered it at the monastery ofArbogast. 

This was the first printing-press. 

As soon as he was in possession of his press, Gutenberg began printing. Little is known of the first works which he sent out; but the stronglyreligious disposition of the inventor leaves no doubt concerning thenature of the labors to which he devoted the first-fruits of his art. They were, to a certainty, religious books. The art invented for thesake of God, and by his inspiration, began with his worship. His laterpublications at Mainz are a proof of it; the divine songs of thePsalmist, and the celebrated Latin Bible, were the first works issued atMainz from the machine invented by Gutenberg, and applied to the use ofthe most sacred powers of man, lyrical praise of his Maker, andlamentation for the woes of earth. Under the hands of this pious andunfortunate man, praise and prayer were the first voices of the press. The press ought ever to be proud of it. 

[Illustration: Gutenberg's Invention. ]

But great tribulation awaited him after his triumph. We have seen thatthe necessity of procuring funds obliged him to take partners. Thenecessity that subsequently arose of getting assistance for themultifarious labor of a great printing establishment obliged him toconfide his occupation, and even the secret of his process, to hispartners and to a number of workmen. His partners, tired of supplyingfunds to an enterprise which, for want of perfection, was not thenremunerative, refused to persevere in the ungrateful occupation. Gutenberg begged them not to abandon him at the very moment that fortuneand glory were within his grasp. They consented to make fresh advances, but only on condition of sharing completely his secret, his profits, hisproperty, and his fame. 

He sold his fame to procure success to his work. The name of Gutenbergdisappeared. The firm absorbed the inventor, who soon became a mereworkman in his own workshop. It was a parallel to the case ofChristopher Columbus brought back in irons on board his own vessel, by acrew to whom he had opened a new world. 

This was not all. The heirs of one of the partners brought an actionagainst him to contest his invention, his property, and his right ofcarrying on the work. They compelled him to appear before the judges atStrasburg, to make him submit to some more complete and more legalspoliation than the voluntary abandonment he had himself acknowledged. His perplexity before the court was extreme. To justify himself, it wasnecessary to enter into all the technical details of his art, which hedid not as yet wish to make completely public, reserving to himself, atleast, the secret of his hopes. The judges, being inquisitive, pressedhim with insidious questions, the answers to which would have exposedthe secret of all his processes. He evaded them, preferring an adversedecision to the publication of his art. To succeed in penetrating thesecret of the discovery which filled people's imaginations, the judgessummoned his most confidential workmen, and required them to giveevidence of what they knew. These men, simple-minded, yet faithful andstrongly attached to Gutenberg, refused to reveal anything. Theirmaster's secret was safer in their hearts than in the breasts of hismore grasping associates. None of the great mysteries of the arttranspired. Gutenberg, ruined, condemned, perhaps banished, retiredalone and in poverty to Mainz, his native place, to recommence hislabors and begin his life and fame anew. 

He was still young, and the report of his lawsuit at Strasburg had madehis fame known all over Germany, but he returned a workman to a citywhich he had quitted as a knight. Humiliation, poverty, and glorycontended with each other in his fate and in the behavior of hisfellow-citizens. Love alone recognized him for what he had been, and forwhat he was one day to become. 

On his return to Mainz, having been relieved from degradation and ruinby the woman he loved, as Mohammed was by his first wife, Gutenberg gavehimself entirely up to his art, entered into partnership with Faust andSchoeffer, Faust's son-in-law; established offices at Mainz, andpublished, still under the name of the firm, Bibles and Psalters, ofremarkable perfection of type. 

Schoeffer had for a long time carried on the business of a scrivener, and a trade in manuscripts in Paris. His travels, and his intimacy withthe artists of that town, had made him acquainted with mechanicalprocesses for working in metals, which he adapted, on his return toMainz, to the art of printing. These new means enabled him to castmovable leaden types in a copper matrix, with greater precision thanbefore, and thus to give great neatness to the letters. It was by thisnew process that the Psalter, the first book bearing a date, was printedin 1457. Soon afterward the Mainz Bible, recognized as a masterpiece ofart, was produced under the direction of Gutenberg, from types foundedby Peter Schoeffer's process. 

The tendency of the new art, which began by cheapening sacred booksunder the auspices of the Church alone, escaped, during the first yearsof its existence, the notice of the Roman court, which saw an auxiliaryin what it afterward considered as an opponent. 

"Among the number of blessings which we ought to praise God for havingvouchsafed during your pontificate, " says a dedication in the time ofPaul II. , "is this invention, which enables the poorest to procurelibraries at a low price. Is it not a great glory to your Holiness, thatvolumes which used to cost _one hundred pieces of gold_ are now to bebought for four, or even less, and that the fruits of genius, heretoforethe prey of the worms and buried in dust, begin under your reign toarise from the dead, and to multiply profusely over all the earth?"

Meanwhile, Faust the banker, and Schoeffer the workman, Gutenberg's newpartners, were not long in giving way, like his former partner, oneMentel or Metelin at Strasburg, to the temptation of absorbing bydegrees Gutenberg's glory, the most tempting of all possessions, becauseof its immortality. Like many others, they hoped to deceive posterity, if not their own contemporaries. After recognizing, in the EpistleDedicatory prefixed to the German translation of Livy, printed by HansSchoeffer, and addressed to the Emperor Maximilian, "that the art ofprinting was invented at Mainz by that sublime mechanician Hans vonGutenberg, " they forgot this confession, and seven years later assumedto themselves all the merit and honor of the discovery. 

A short time afterward, the Emperor Maximilian, erecting the printersand compositors into a species of intellectual priesthood, relieved themby the nobility of their occupation from all degradation of rank. Heennobled the art and the artists together; he authorized them to wearrobes embroidered with gold and silver, which nobles only had a right towear, and gave them for armorial bearings an eagle with his wings spreadover a globe, a symbol of the flight of written thoughts, and of itsconquest of the world. 

But Gutenberg was no longer upon earth to enjoy the possession of thatintellectual world, religious and political, of which he had only had aglimpse, like Moses, in the vision of his dream in the monastery of St. Arbogast. Despoiled by his partners of his property and of his fame;expelled again, and for the last time, from his country by poverty, hisonly consolation being that he was followed by his wife, who remainedfaithful through all his troubles; deprived by death of all hischildren; advanced in years, without bread, and soon afterward, by hiswife's decease, a widower, he was received by the Elector of Nassau, the generous Adolphus. The elector created him his counsellor of stateand chamberlain, in order to enjoy in an honorable familiarity theconversation of this surpassing genius, who was afterward to holdconverse with all times and all places. This shelter afforded toGutenberg sheds everlasting lustre on Nassau and its prince. We meet inhistory with instances where a generous hospitality has given happinessand immortal fame to the most insignificant potentates and to thesmallest of states. 

Gutenberg continued printing with his own hands, at Nassau, under theeyes of his Mæcenas, the elector, during several years of peace andquiet. He died at the age of sixty-eight, leaving his sister noinheritance, but bequeathing to the world the empire of the human mind, discovered and achieved by a workman. 

"I bequeath, " he says in his will, "to my sister all the books which Iprinted at the monastery of St. Arbogast. " The poor inventor's onlylegacy to his surviving relative was the common property of almost allinventors like himself--wasted youth, a persecuted life, a nameaspersed, toil, watchings, and the oblivion of his contemporaries. 

WILLIAM CAXTON

(1412-1491)

[Illustration: William Caxton. ]

William Caxton, to whom England owes the introduction of printing, wasborn, according to his own statement, in the Weald of Kent. Of the dateof his birth nothing is known with certainty, though Oldys places it in1412. Lewis and Oldys suppose that between his fifteenth and eighteenthyears he was put apprentice to one Robert Large, a mercer or merchant ofconsiderable eminence, who was afterward, successively, sheriff and lordmayor of London, and who upon his death, in 1441, remembered Caxton inhis will by a legacy of 20 marks. Caxton at this time had become afreeman of the Company of Mercers. His knowledge of business, however, induced him, either upon his own account or as agent of some merchant, to travel to the Low Countries for a short time. In 1464 we find himjoined in a commission with one Robert Whitehill, to continue andconfirm a treaty of trade and commerce between Edward IV. And Philip, Duke of Burgundy; or if they find it necessary, to make a new one. Theyare styled in it ambassadors and special deputies. This commission atleast affords a proof that Caxton had acquired a reputation forknowledge of business. Seven years afterward Caxton describes himself asleading a life of ease, when, "having no great charge or occupation, " heset about finishing the translation of Raoul le Fevre's "Recueil desHistoires de Troye, " which he had commenced two years before, in 1469. The original was the first book he printed, and this translation thethird. Of Caxton's pursuits and travels abroad, we know little more thanthat in his peregrinations he confined himself, for the most part, tothe countries of Brabant, Flanders, Holland, and Zealand, and finallyentered into the service, or at least the household, of Margaret, Duchess of Burgundy, who encouraged him to finish his translation of LeFevre's "History of Troy, " assisted him with her criticisms upon hisEnglish, and amply rewarded him upon the completion of his labor. Fromthe prologues and epilogues of this work we discover that he was nowsomewhat advanced in years, and that he had learnt to exercise the artof printing, but by what step he had acquired this knowledge cannot bediscovered; his types only show that he acquired it in the LowCountries. He does not appear to have seen any of the beautifulproductions of the Roman, Venetian, and Parisian presses before he hadcaused his own font of letters to be cut. 

The original of Raoul's "History, " the "Oration of John Russell onCharles, Duke of Burgundy, being created a Knight of the Garter, " andthe "Translation" of Raoul, were, as far as we know, Caxton's firstthree works; the last finished in 1471. A "Stanza, " by Wynkyn de Worde, notices an edition of "Bartholomoeus, de Proprietatibus Rerum, " asprinted by Caxton at Cologne (about 1470), but the actual existence ofthis edition is unknown. Nor has more certain information yet beenobtained of the exact period of Caxton's return to his native country. The usual supposition has been that he brought the art of printing intoEngland in 1474, and this date is indicated by the figures which areunited in the centre of his device as a printer. In 1477, however, hehad undoubtedly quitted the Low Countries and taken up his residence inthe vicinity of Westminster Abbey, where and in which year he printedhis "Dictes and Sayings of the Philosophers. " Stowe says he firstexercised his business in an old chapel near the entrance of the abbey;but a very curious placard, a copy of which, in Caxton's largest type, is now at Oxford in the late Mr. Douce's library, shows that he printedin the Almonry. It is as follows: "If it plese any man spirituel ortemporel to bye ony Pyes of two and thre comemoracions of Salisburi vseemprynted, after the forme of this present lettre whiche ben wel andtruly correct, late hym come to Westmonester in to the Almonesrye at thereed pole and he shal have them good chepe. Supplico stet cedula. "According to Bagford, Caxton's office was afterward removed to KingStreet. 

[Illustration: The First Sheet from Caxton's Press. ]

From the evidence of Wynkyn de Worde, in the colophon of his edition of"Vitæ Patrum, " 1495, it appears that these "Lives of the Fathers" were"translated out of French into English by William Caxton, ofWestminster, lately dead, " and that he finished the work "at the lastday of his life. " His death, however, seems fixed, by two or threeentries in the parish accounts of St. Margaret, Westminster, to theyear 1491 or 1492, in which we read, "Item: atte bureyng of WilliamCaxton for iiij, torches vj^s viij^d. Item: for the belle at sameBureyng vj^d. " Wynkyn de Worde no doubt referred to this time. 

Caxton, Mr. Warton observes, by translating, or procuring to betranslated, a great number of books from the French, greatly contributedto promote the state of literature in England. In regard to his types, Mr. Dibdin says he appears to have made use of five distinct sets, orfonts, of letters, which, in his account of Caxton's works, he hasengraved plates in fac-simile. Edward Rowe Mores, in his "Dissertationupon English Typographical Founders and Foundries, " says Caxton's letterwas originally of the sort called Secretary, and of this he had twofonts; afterward he came nearer to the English face, and had three fontsof Great Primer, a rude one which he used anno 1474, another somethingbetter, and a third cut about 1482; one of Double Pica, good, whichfirst appears 1490; and one of Long Primer, at least nearly agreeingwith the bodies which have since been called by those names. All ofCaxton's works were printed in what are called black letter. 

CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS[9]

 [Footnote 9: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By A. R. SPOFFORD, LL. D. 

(1436-1506)

[Illustration: Christopher Columbus. ]

The discovery and the discoverer of America have furnished an almostinexhaustible theme for the critic, the biographer, and the historian. In the year 1892 there was celebrated an event which has come by commonconsent to be regarded as a world-famous epoch, worthy to be held ineverlasting remembrance. We commemorated the man whose discovery almostdoubled the extent of the habitable globe. 

The life, the voyages, the brilliant triumphs, and the mournful end ofColumbus are already familiar to most readers. To recount them at lengthwould be here a needless repetition. Let us rather attempt to glance atsome of the historic disputes involving the character and acts of thegreat discoverer, to sketch briefly the sources of information abouthim, and to characterize some of the more important writings upon thesubject. 

There is no lack of biographical material concerning the discoverer ofAmerica. He has left memorials of his personality and life-history moreabundant than most of the men who have influenced their age. There aremore than sixty authentic letters of Columbus in existence. There arelong narratives of his expeditions and discoveries, by persons who knewhim more or less intimately. There is an extended biography of himwritten by his own son, Ferdinand Columbus, or from materials furnishedby him. There are numerous documents and state papers authenticating hisacts, his privileges, and his dignities. And yet, with all the wealth ofmaterial, so copious upon his character and his career, it would seem, from recent developments, that the true discoverer of America is yet tobe discovered. 

Among the many lives of Columbus that have been written, there existsome twenty-five in the English language. Of these two or three onlyhave any historical or critical value. The mass of biographies, bothEnglish and American, are mere echoes or abridgments, in other forms oflanguage, of the great work of Washington Irving, first published in1828. This book was written in Spain, and based upon collections ofdocuments (manuscript and printed) not previously used by biographers. Hence its value as the most copious and systematic life of Columbuswhich had appeared in any language. The finished and graceful stylewhich characterizes all the works of its accomplished author gave it ahigh place in literature, which it has maintained for more than half acentury, being constantly reprinted. 

Next in point of time to Irving, though treating Columbus with lessfulness of detail, came the polished historian Prescott, whose "Historyof Ferdinand and Isabella" was published in 1837. This ardent andlaborious scholar was, like Irving, constitutionally inclined to theoptimistic view of his leading characters. To magnify the virtues and tominimize the faults of their heroes has always been the besetting sin ofbiographers. The pomp and picturesque circumstance of the Spanish court, the splendid administrative abilities of Ferdinand, the beauty, amiability, and devoted piety of Isabella, are depicted in glowingcolors, but the crimes and cruelties which they sanctioned, whilecondemned upon one page, are softly extenuated upon others. Columbusappears as a romantic figure in history, the glory of whose successfuldiscovery atones for his many failings. 

Of the original sources of information about Columbus the most importantare:

1. The great collection of original documents printed in Spanish byNavarrete, in 1825-37, in five volumes, and partly reprinted in a Frenchtranslation in 1828. These contain the precious letters of Columbus, many of which have been translated and recently published in English. 

2. The "Historia general de las Indias, " of Oviedo, first published in1535. 

3. The "Historia de las Indias, " of the Spanish Bishop Las Casas, composed in 1527 to 1561, which remained in manuscript until 1875, whenit was printed from the original Spanish. 

4. The "Letters and the Decades of Peter Martyr, " written in partcontemporaneously with the discovery of America, and printed in Latin in1530, and in English in 1555. 

5. The "Historia de las Reyes Catolicos, " of Andres Bernaldez. 

6. The "Life of the Discoverer, " by Ferdinand Columbus, first publishedin 1571 at Venice, in Italian. 

The last five writers had personal knowledge or intercourse withColumbus, while Las Casas, Oviedo, and Ferdinand had the advantage ofresidence in America, and intimate knowledge of the aborigines, and ofthe men and events of the period. 

Almost every item involved in the checkered and eventful life ofColumbus has afforded a fruitful theme for controversy. His birth, even, is disputed, under stress of evidence, as falling anywhere between 1435and 1447--a discrepancy of twelve years. His birthplace is claimed bymore towns than that of Homer, although his own statement, that he was anative of Genoa, has met general concurrence. His knowledge ofgeography, astronomy, and navigation is asserted and denied with variousdegrees of pertinacity. His treatment by the sovereigns of Portugal, Castile, and Aragon is so far in question that irreconcilabledifferences of opinion exist. How much Columbus really owed to the aidof the crown, and how much to private enterprise, in fitting out hisexpeditions of discovery, cannot be definitely ascertained. How far hewas hindered by the bigotry, or helped by the enlightenment of powerfulecclesiastics, as at the council of Salamanca, is a theme of perennialcontroversy. 

The island where he first landed is so far from being identified, thatmany books have been written to prove the claims of this, that, or theother gem of the sea to be the true land-fall of Columbus. His treatmentof the natives has been made the subject of unsparing denunciation andof undiscriminating eulogy. His conduct toward his own, often mutinous, crews is alternately lauded as humane and generous, or denounced asarrogant and cruel, according to the sympathies or the point of view ofthe critic. His imprisonment and attempted disgrace have been made thetheme of indignant comment and of extenuating apology. His moralcharacter and marital relations are subjects of irreconcilabledifferences of judgment. His deep religious bias, so manifest in nearlyall his writings, has been praised as a mark of exalted merit by somewriters, and stigmatized by others as cant and superstition. The lastresting-place of his bones, even, is in doubt, which it required anelaborate investigation by the Royal Academy of History of Madrid tosolve in favor of Havana, as against the cathedral of Santo Domingo;though its report is still controverted, and M. A. Pinart has proved tothe satisfaction of many that a misprision took place and that the trueremains of Columbus still rest at Santo Domingo. The movement tocanonize the great discoverer has been championed with more zeal thandiscretion by some over-ardent churchmen, while the too-evident humanfrailties of the proposed candidate for the honors of sainthood haveinspired an abundant caution in the councils of the Vatican. 

On a subject fraught with so much inherent difficulty, contradictoryevidence, and conflict of opinion, he is on the safest ground whocandidly holds his judgment in reserve. In the light of thekeenly-sifted evidence which modern critical study has brought to bear, the laudatory judgments of Irving and Prescott, rendered sixty yearsago, cannot stand wholly approved. 

Neither can a discerning reader accept the fulsome laudations of hisprincipal French biographer, Roselly de Lorgues, whose rhetoricalpanegyrics and pious eulogies place its author in the front rank of thecanonizers. 

On the other hand, those who have taken the unfavorable view ofColumbus, have done their utmost to divest him of most of the honorswhich the general voice of history has assigned him as America'sgreatest discoverer. The established fact that parts of North Americawere seen centuries before, though no permanent settlement norcontinuity of intercourse ensued, has been used to discredit him, thoughhe was undeniably the pioneer who set out with a plan to discover, anddid discover by design, what others found only by accident. Hisgeographical ideas were derived, they say, from Behaim and Toscanelli;his nautical skill from Pinzon; his certainty of finding new lands fromAlonzo Sanchez; his courage and daring from some of his fellow-voyagers. 

We are pointed to his double reckoning on his first voyage, by which hedeceived his sailors as to their true distance from Spain, as evidenceof a false nature. He is charged with ambition, cupidity, and arrogance, in demanding titles, dignities, and money as fruits of his discoveries. He was, we are told, a fanatic, a visionary, a tyrant, a buccaneer, aliar, and a slave-trader. He was proud, cruel, and vindictive. 

What manner of man, then, was this Columbus, with whose name the trumpof fame has been busy so long? As to his person, we have no verifiedportrait, while the likenesses (of all periods) claiming to representhis features, present irreconcilable differences. But here is thedescription of him given by Herrera: "Columbus was tall of stature, long-visaged, of a majestic aspect, his nose hooked, his eyes gray, of aclear complexion, somewhat ruddy. He was witty and pleasant, well-spokenand eloquent, moderately grave, affable to strangers, to his own familymild. His conversation was discreet, which gained him the affection ofthose he had to deal with, and his presence attracted respect, having anair of authority and grandeur. He was a man of undaunted courage andhigh thoughts, patient, unmoved in the many troubles and adversitiesthat attended him, ever relying on the Divine Providence. " Gomaradescribes him as "a man of good height, strong-limbed, with a longcountenance, fresh and rosy in aspect, somewhat given to anger, hardy inexposure to fatigues. "

Benzoni says that Columbus was "a man of exalted intellect, of apleasant and ingenuous countenance. "

Bernaldez, the historian of Ferdinand and Isabella, who knew himintimately in his later years, says "he was a man of very lofty genius, and of marvellously honored memory. "

[Illustration: Columbus ridiculed at the Council of Salamanca. ]

With these personal characteristics, Columbus united a restless spirit, a firm will, and a singularly enthusiastic temperament. The latterfaculty gave him a consuming zeal for his undertakings, which was asrare as it proved ultimately successful in compassing his greatdiscovery. He was discouraged by no rebuffs, would take no denials. Hismotto seemed to be never to despair, and never to let go. His spiritualnature was as remarkable as his intellectual. Here, his imagination wasthe predominant faculty. He firmly believed himself divinelycommissioned to find out the Indies, and to bring their inhabitants intothe fold of the true faith. He had early vowed to devote the profits ofhis enterprise, if successful, to rescue the tomb of Christ from theinfidels. Himself a devout son of the Church, he fervently believed thathe had miraculous aid on many perilous occasions of his life. Humblebefore God, he was sufficiently proud and independent before men. Heinsisted upon conditions with the haughty sovereigns of Spain which theydeemed exacting, but the high views and tenacity of Columbus carried theday, and his own terms were granted at last. He never forgot, in all hissubsequent trials and humiliations, that he was a Spanish admiral, andViceroy of the Indies. 

Such was the character of Columbus. Let us now look at his environment, which in all men contributes so much to make or modify character. Bornin Genoa, the headquarters in that day of navigation, Columbus earlyimbibed a passion for maritime affairs. His youthful days and nightswere given to the study of astronomy and of navigation. He was a trainedsailor and map-maker from his boyhood. He brooded over the problemsinvolved in the spherical form of the earth. He caught up all the hintsand allusions in classical and mediæval writers that came in his way, ofother lands than those already known. The Atlantis of Plato, and theclear prediction in Seneca of another world in the west, fired hisimagination. He himself tells us that he voyaged to the Ultima Thule ofhis day, which was Iceland, besides various expeditions in the Atlanticand Mediterranean. 

The early fancies of isles in the western sea loomed up before his eyes, and repeated themselves in his dreams. These visions were heightened bythat vague sense of wonder that is linked with the unknown. No wonder, then, that Columbus, with a bent almost preternatural toward theundiscovered regions of the globe, should dream of new lands, new men, new scenery, and new wealth. But to his vivid imagination dreams becamerealities, until he believed with all the force of his ardent naturethat he was divinely commissioned to be a discoverer. Hitherto thePortuguese voyages familiar to Columbus had only skirted the coast ofAfrica, and discovered the Cape Verde Islands and the Azores. It was nottill 1486, years after the idea of his western voyage took firm root inhis mind, that the Cape of Good Hope was at last doubled by Vasco daGama. All voyages prior to his had been only tentative and brief, slowlycreeping from headland to headland, or else finding new islands by beingdrifted out of courses long familiar to mariners. 

It was the supreme merit of Columbus that he was the first to cut loosefrom one continent to find another, and to steer boldly across anunknown sea, in search of an unknown world. We need not belittle (stillless need we deny) the finding of Greenland and of other parts of NorthAmerica by the Norsemen in the ninth and tenth centuries. We may hailEric the Red and his stout son, Leif Ericson, as pioneers in what may betermed coasting voyages of discovery. But the story of America gains aslittle from these shadowy and abortive voyages as civilization hasgained from their fruitless results. 

On the first voyage of Columbus, he was more fortunate in the uncertainelements which always affect sea voyages so overpoweringly than in someof his later ones. His own vessel, with single deck, was about ninetyfeet long, by a breadth of twenty feet. The Pinta, a faster sailer, andthe Nina (or "baby") were smaller caravels, and without decks, commandedrespectively by the brothers Martin and Vicente Pinzon. The threevessels carried ninety persons, sailing September 6, 1492, running firstsouth to the Canaries, and then stretching straight westward on thetwenty-eighth parallel for what the admiral believed to be the coast ofJapan. Delightful weather favored the voyagers, but when, on the tenthday out from Spain, the caravels struck into that wonderful stretch ofseaweed and grass, known as the Sargasso Sea, fear lest they should runaground or soon be unable to sail in either direction took possession ofthe crews. In five days the caravels ran into smooth water again. But astheir distance from Spain grew greater, the spirit of protest and mutinygrew louder. Columbus needed all of his invincible constancy andfirmness of purpose to quell and to animate his despairing crews. Atlast, October 21, 1492--day ever memorable in the annals of thisworld--the unknown land rose from the bosom of the water. It was namedby its pious discoverer San Salvador--Holy Saviour. The charm of climateand of landscape enchanted all, and fear and despondency gave way todelight and joy and the most extravagant anticipations. The subsequenthistory of this first voyage, the wreck of the admiral's flag-ship SantaMaria, the base desertion of Pinzon, and his baffled attempt toforestall Columbus in the credit of the discovery, the triumphal honorspaid to the successful admiral, and the pope's bull conferring uponSpain all lands west of a meridian one hundred leagues from theAzores--all this is familiar to most readers. The actual discoveries ofthe first voyage included Cuba and Hispaniola (or Haiti), with somelittle islands of the Bahama group, of small importance. 

On his second voyage Columbus found no difficulty in collectingseventeen ships and 1, 500 adventurers, so popular had the new way to theIndies become when the way was once found. He set sail six months afterhis return to Spain, or on September 15, 1493. He returned in June, 1496, after three years of explorations, interrupted by a long illness, and having discovered Jamaica, Porto Rico, Santa Cruz, Antigua, Montserrat, Dominica, and Guadaloupe. 

The third voyage began May 30, 1498, and embraced six vessels and 200men. Columbus struck southwestward from the Cape Verde Islands and rannearly to the equator, into a region of torrid heat, discoveringTrinidad, Tobago, Grenada, and the Gulf of Paria, and making his firstlanding on the continent, at the Pearl Coast, near the mouth of theOrinoco, in what is now Venezuela. This voyage witnessed manydisasters--the rebellion of Roldan, the severe prostration of theadmiral by fever, and his seizure and imprisonment in chains by theinfamous Bobadilla. 

The fourth and last voyage of Columbus, with four small caravels and 150men, was begun May 11, 1502. On this voyage he discovered Martinique andthe coasts of Honduras, Nicaragua, and Veragua, on the mainland, returning to Spain, after untold disasters and miseries, on November 7, 1504. Then followed the weary struggle of the infirm old voyager tosecure justice and a part of his hard-earned benefits from the crown. But Isabella had died, and Ferdinand, under the influence of thehard-hearted and cruel bigot, Fonseca, postponed all the claims ofColumbus. He who had given a world died in poverty, a suppliant for themeans of an honorable existence. 

It is easy enough for the writers of the nineteenth century to criticisethe actors of the fifteenth; and learned scholars, sitting in luxuriouseasy-chairs in great libraries, can pass swift and severe judgment uponthe acts and motives of Columbus. But let them go back four hundredyears, and divest themselves of the bias which the science of to-dayunconsciously inspires; let them quit the age of steam-engines, telegraphs, democratic governments, printing-presses, andSunday-schools; let them orient themselves, and become Spaniards of1492, instead of Americans of 1892; let them take the place ofColumbus--if they are gifted with imagination enough among theirmanifold endowments to do it; let them think his thoughts, endure histrials, cherish his resolves, encounter his rebuffs, overcome hisobstacles, launch out on his voyage, govern his mutinous crew, deal withhis savage and hostile tribes, combat the traitors in his camp, sufferhis shipwrecks, struggle with his disappointments, bear the ignominy ofhis chains, see his visions, and pray his prayers. 

Behold him, launched on his uncertain voyage across the "sea ofdarkness, " in three little caravels, no larger than the modern yacht, and far less seaworthy. Watch his devoted and anxious look, his solitaryself-communings, his all-night vigils under the silent stars. See hismotley crew, picked up at random in Palos streets, ignorant, superstitious, and full of fears, dreading every added mile of thevoyage, and alarmed at the prevalent east winds which they thought wouldnever permit them to sail back to Spain; so that Columbus, on a contraryhead-wind springing up, thanked God with all the fervency of his pioussoul. Pursue his career in his later expeditions, hampered by themutinous vagabonds whom fate had thrust upon him as followers, many ofthem desperadoes just out of jail. See his baffled endeavors to maintainorder and discipline among such a crew; to restrain their excesses, curbtheir lawless acts of violence, and secure some semblance of decency intheir conduct toward the natives. Many of them, we read, were so givenover to idleness and sloth, that they actually made the islanders beastsof burden, to carry them on their backs. It is a most unhappy fact thatthe missionaries of the cross were often accompanied by bands ofmiscreants, who wantonly broke every commandment in the decalogue andtrampled upon every precept of the gospel. See him in his last voyage, beating about the rocks and shoals of an unknown archipelago, overtakenby West India hurricanes, almost engulfed in waterspouts, scudding underbare poles amid perilous breakers, blinded by lightning, deafened byincessant peals of thunder, his crazy little barks tossed about likecockle-shells in the raging waves, his anchors lost, his worm-eatenvessels as full of holes as a honey-comb, two caravels abandoned, andthe two remaining run ashore at Jamaica, where Columbus built huts ontheir decks to shelter his forlorn crew. See him stranded here, pressedby hunger and want, visited by sickness and almost blindness, burningwith fever under the wilting, fiery heat of the tropics, desolate, forsaken, infirm, and old. There he lay a whole year without relief, until the cup of his misery was full. 

If Columbus was sometimes harsh and cruel, we are to remember that helived in an age when the most cruel and barbarous punishments werecommon. There are numerous instances of his clemency both to natives andto his revolted Spaniards, and he more than once jeopardized his ownlife by sparing theirs. Among a treacherous and vindictive race, many ofwhom were continually plotting for his overthrow, the admiral, endowedwith full power over the lives and acts of his followers, was compelledto make examples of the worst, many of whom were criminals released fromthe prisons of Spain. Like other fighters, he met treachery withtreachery, cruelty with cruelty. He had never learned to love hisenemies, nor to turn his cheek for the second blow. Show us the maninvested with absolute power, in that or in any former age, who abusedit less. Try him by the moral standards, not of our humane andenlightened age, but by those of his own. Compared with the deeds ofdarkness that were done by Bobadilla and Ovando, the governors whoreplaced him, the reign of Columbus appears, even at its worst, to havebeen mild and merciful. 

By the side of the atrocities and cruel massacres perpetrated underCortes in Mexico, and Pizarro in Peru, the few deeds of blood underColumbus appear slight indeed. While we have no right to extenuate hiserrors and his abuses, we have as little right to hold him to a standardnowhere set up in his day. He had learned his ethics in a school whichtaught that, for great and pious objects, the end justified the means. In the ardor of his zeal for what he deemed the Christian faith, Columbus committed many glaring mistakes and errors; but whatover-zealous apostle or reformer has failed to do the same? Columbus wasunduly eager after gold, they say; but in our advanced age, when thatwhich Virgil called "the accursed hunger for gold" pervades all ranks, and our cities are nothing but great encampments of fortune-hunters, does it lie in our mouths to condemn him?

The age of Columbus took him as he was--all full of human imperfectionsand frailties, but full also to overflowing with a great idea, and witha will, a perseverance, a constancy, and a faith so sublime, as fairlyto conquer every obstacle, after a weary struggle of eighteen years, andto carry forward his arduous enterprise to triumphant success. That thegreat discoverer failed as a governor and administrator makes nothingagainst his merits as a discoverer. That his light at last went out indarkness--that the world he discovered brought nothing to Spain butdisappointment and Dead Sea ashes--that he dragged out a miserable oldage in rotten and unseaworthy ships, lying ill in the torrid heats ofthe West Indies, racked with excruciating pain, and in absolute penuryand want--all this but adds point to a life so full of paradox that wemay almost pardon him for believing in miracles. After so much glory andso much fame, his life darkened down to its dreary and pathetic close. His ardent soul went at last where wicked governments cease fromtroubling, and weary mariners are at rest. On May 20, 1506, worn out bydisease, anxieties, and labors, the great discoverer launched forth onhis last voyage of discovery, beyond the border of that unknown landwhose boundaries are hid from mortal ken. 

His place among the immortals is secure. By the power of theunconquerable mind with which nature had endowed him, he achieved a fameso imperishable that neither the arrows of malice, nor the shafts ofenvy, nor the keenest pens of critics, nor the assaults of iconoclastscan avail to destroy it. 

[Signature: A. R. Spofford. ]

VASCO DA GAMA[10]

 [Footnote 10: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By Judge ALBION W. TOURGÉE

(1460-1525)

[Illustration: Vasco Da Gama. ]

Vasco da Gama was the pet of fortune. Never did a man win immortalitymore easily. As a discoverer and a navigator he should rank not onlybelow Columbus, but also below Bartolemeo Diaz and Cabral among his owncountrymen, as well as Vespucius and Magellan, who carried the Spanishflag, and the Cabots, who established England's claim to the mostimportant portions of the New World. As a commander, an administrator, and ruler of newly discovered regions, however, he ranks easily abovethem all. He not only led the way to India, but laid securely thefoundations of Portuguese empire in the East. 

Even in the hour of his birth he was fortunate. Prince Henry, surnamed"the Navigator, " to whose indefatigable exertions for more than fortyyears was due that impulse to maritime achievement of which thediscoveries of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries were the result, had just died, and his influence hung like an inspiration over thelittle kingdom for which he had wrought with such self-denyingpatience. This grandson of John of Gaunt has received scant credit forthat wonderful series of discoveries by which the accessible earth wasmore than quadrupled in extent. Yet without him, there is no reason tobelieve that either the coast of Africa would have been explored, theCape of Good Hope passed, or the American continents discovered for acentury, at least, perhaps for two or three centuries afterward. He wasthe father of discovery, and it was his hand more than any or all othersthat rolled up the curtain of darkness which hid the major part of thehabitable globe. All the navigators and discoverers of that marvellousage were but the agents of his genius and the creatures of hisindefatigable exertion. 

The son of the most noted sovereign of Portugal, and grandson of thatrugged Englishman from whose loins have sprung so many royal lines, hewas fitted by descent and training for the heroic part which heperformed. Distinguished for military achievement before he had come toman's estate, urged by four of the leading sovereigns of Europe to takecommand of their armies, and made Grand Master of the Order of Christbefore he was twenty-five, there is hardly any limit to the militarydistinction he might have won or the power he might have secured, had hesought his own advancement. 

But he gave himself to Portugal, and determined to raise the littlekingdom his father had so gallantly held against jealous and powerfulneighbors, to the rank of a first-class power. To seek to enlarge arealm shut in by mountains on one side and the sea upon the other, byconstant strife with embittered enemies, he saw at once was to inviteannihilation. The sea afforded the only avenue of hope, the continent ofAfrica, where his father had already gained something from the Moor, inbattling with whom he had himself won renown, the only visibleopportunity. So he determined to explore, and finally, to circumnavigateAfrica, and give to Portugal whatever of power or wealth the ocean orthe dark continent might hide. He believed that India might be reachedby sailing round its southern extremity, and he determined to pour thewealth of the Orient into the treasury of the kingdom his father hadestablished. 

In 1418, therefore, he turned his back on personal ambition, laid asidethe glory of military renown, and sat himself down to a hermit's lifeand a scholar's labors on the promontory of Sagres, in the province ofAlgarve, that point on the coast of Portugal which stretches farthestout into the Atlantic in the direction of his hope. Here he built anobservatory whose light was the last his captains saw as they wentforth, and the first to greet them on their return. Here he opened aschool of navigation, and here were trained the discoverers who openedthe way for all who came afterward. Here was not only nourished theimpulse which fired the hearts of Columbus and his contemporaries, buthere was taught the science and here were gathered the facts whichenabled them to achieve success. 

Up to that time, Cape Nun had been the boundary of the modern world tothe southward. With infinite patience, Prince Henry labored to convincehis captains that the terrors which they thought lay at the southward ofthis point were wholly imaginary. Little by little his caravels creptdown the coast of Africa. Every year he sent out two or three. Navigators and geographers flocked to his service. In two years here-discovered Madeira and Porto Santo, of which latter he afterward madePerestrello, the father of Columbus's wife, the governor. By 1433 hisships had reached Cape Bojador; eight years afterward they passed CapeBlanco; in 1445 they were at the mouth of the Senegal. Still he urgedthem on toward that "_thesaurus Arabum et divitia Indiæ_, " to which heset himself the task of opening up the way. The crown of Portugalassumed all the cost of these expeditions. Gold, ivory, cinnabar, dye-woods, spices, and slaves, added to the wealth of the kingdom onlyto furnish forth new ventures. 

He died before the end came, but not until many of the most importantproblems of cosmographic condition had been solved. It was known byactual experience that the "steaming sea" was a myth. Ships had crossedthe equator, and their crews came back to tell of southward-stretchingshadows. Ships were able, it was seen, to sail up the southern slope ofthe world as well as down it. Why they did not fall off into space, noneknew, but that they did not was proved. Gravitation was a force whoselaws and character were yet unformulated. The diurnal motion of theearth was hardly suspected until a hundred years later. But the facts onwhich these two fundamental truths are based were being gathered forNewton and Copernicus. When he died, those whom he had inspired andinstructed continued the work to which he had devoted himself, under thepatronage of his brother Alfonso and his nephew João II. ; until, in1486, Bartholomeo Diaz had sailed two hundred miles to the eastward ofthe Cape of Good Hope and returned to assure his sovereign that the wayto India had at length been found. 

It was not, however, until Dom Manoel had succeeded to the throne, in1495, that any successful effort was made to follow up the success whichDiaz had achieved. The way to India was indeed open, but no one seems tohave had sufficient fortitude to undertake so long a voyage in order toreach it by that route. Dom Manoel had, however, but one idea. He wasnot a geographer like his predecessor, João, "the perfect, " but he was aman of action, and determined that the route Prince Henry's navigatorshad opened to India should not remain unused. Vasco da Gama was then inhis thirty-fifth year, the handsomest man of his age, of ancient family, and it is claimed was not without royal blood in his veins. As a soldierhe was trained in the war with Castile; as a navigator he had servedunder Prince Henry's best captains. Camoens, the historical poet ofPortugal, declares that he was familiar not only with the recordedachievements of his predecessors, but with all the regions they haddiscovered. Dom João, on the return of Diaz, selected him to command thefleet he meant to send to follow up this discovery. In the ten yearsthat elapsed before he actually sailed, it is probable that he had grownto be not only a better geographer, but also a stronger, morecool-headed, and reliable man. That he was able to command, thosemutineers who cavilled at his severity during the stormy passage of fourmonths from Lisbon to Table Bay, found out when they demanded that hegive up trying to reach India and return to Portugal as other captainshad done, at the behest of their crews. He made short work of them, andin his whole career, so salutary was the lesson, no one under hiscommand ever again refused to obey his orders. 

It was July 8, 1497, when he sailed from Lisbon, and it was not untilDecember 1st that he left Delagoa Bay, the farthest eastward point whichDiaz had reached, to pass over the actually unknown water that laybetween him and India. Even this could hardly be called "unknown water, "for Corvilhan, who a dozen years before had made his way overland toAden, had sent back to Dom João II. This message:

"Anyone who will persist, is sure to sail around the southernmost pointof Africa, and can then easily make his way up the eastern shore andacross the gulf to India. "

Literally were his words fulfilled. With favoring breezes, Gama reachedMalinda early in January, 1498, and securing the services of an Indianpilot, who had not only sailed hither from Calicut, but seemed asfamiliar as Gama himself with compass and astrolabe, he set out boldlyacross the Indian Ocean, and in May arrived at Calicut. When we considerthat this latter part of the voyage was with a pilot accustomed to makethe trip in the far more fragile crafts of the Arabs, the boldness ofthe undertaking does not seem so apparent to one of our day. Comparedwith the voyages of Columbus, Magellan, Vespucius, or Cabral overabsolutely unknown seas, without pilots or charts of any kind, thepassage from Aden to India hardly seems remarkable. Yet upon this thefame of Gama as an explorer rests, and as has been remarked, "few menhave won fame so easily. " His real merit lay in the fact that he didwhat so few of his predecessors were able to accomplish, controlled themutinous crews, who had after all been the most serious obstacle in thepath of Portugal to the coveted Indian possessions. It is probable thatif Prince Henry had encouraged his captains to exercise greaterseverity, the darling object of his life might have been attained beforehis death and the birth of the fortunate explorer, whose cheaply-wonfame has obscured his own, even with the king-loving Portuguese. 

It would seem as if the capacity to control men, which was so prominenta characteristic of the "Discoverer of India, " was not of a conciliatorycharacter, for the Zamorin of Calicut received him but coldly, andbefore his ships were loaded the difference had ripened into a quarrel, and he was obliged to cut his way out of the harbor to begin hishomeward voyage. This lack of complaisance on the part of the Zamorin heattributed, not without reason, to the jealousy of the Arab merchants, whose swift-sailing dhows crowded the port. Why should they not bejealous of him who came to take away their immemorial privilege?Theretofore the treasures of the Orient had reached the western worldonly through the hands of the Arab merchants. The dhow and the camel hadbeen its carriers. Gama had brought the more capacious caravel to bearthem over a new highway to the western consumers. His success meant theloss of a great part of the business on which the sailors, merchants, and camel-drivers of Arabia depended for a livelihood. Why should theynot conspire to kill him and destroy his fleet?

His homeward passage was as fortunate as the outward one had been. Thathe did not experience the disasters which befell others, was no doubtlargely due to the fact that he foresaw and avoided peril wheneverpossible. He was one of those men who, while shrinking from nounavoidable danger, take no unnecessary risks. He was received withunprecedented honors when, after two years and two months' absence, hisships were again anchored in the Tagus. Their rich cargo attested therare value of the trade he had opened up. Despite the gold which theminers of Española were beginning to send to Spain, and the pearls whichhad come from Cubagua, the apparent value of the discoveries of Columbuswere as nothing to the boundless wealth which Gama's voyage assured toPortugal. By the bull of Pope Alexander VI. , all lands discovered eastof the meridian of the Azores belonged to the King of Portugal. It wasnot only half the world, but that half which was of most inexhaustiblerichness, Asia and Africa. Titles and honors and wealth were conferredupon the fortunate explorer. In consideration perhaps of his royalextraction, he was permitted to affix the kingly title, "Dom, " to hisname. No wonder he was thus honored, when the cargo of one small caravelloaded with spices, yielded a greater sum than the whole outfit of thefleet Columbus commanded on his first voyage!

In an incredibly short time, thirteen ships were fitted out, and underthat prince of navigators, Cabral, set sail to secure the results ofGama's discovery. On him, too, fortune smiled as it rarely has on themthat "go down to the sea in ships. " Blown out of his course byhead-winds, his very mishaps ripened into the rarest fortune, for hediscovered Brazil, and thus added to his master's realm what wasdestined to be one of the richest kingdoms of the world. With theinstinct of genius, and a courage as rare as it was heroic, he did notreturn to notify his king of the new continent which had risen out ofthe deep before him, but sending back a single caravel with themarvellous news, he turned his battered prows to that point of thecompass where he judged the Cape of Good Hope to be, and after passingthree thousand miles of water that had never known a keel before, herounded the southern point of Africa and proceeded to carry out hisorders. He lacked, however, the soldierly qualities and administrativepower of the "Discoverer of India, " who the year after his return wassent out to complete his work. This time he had a fleet of twenty sail, and from the outset was bent not only on taking permanent possession ofthe countries whose trade it was desirable to secure, but on avengingthe affront that had before been offered him by the Zamorin of Calicutand the Arab traders who had inspired the action. 

On his way he founded the colonies of Mozambique and Sofala, and sailedto Travancore. During the passage he fell in with a ship which wascarrying many Indian Mussulmans to Mecca, laden with rich presents forthe shrine of the Prophet. This he pillaged and burned, with all of her300 passengers except twenty women and children, whom he saved more forhis own pleasure, no doubt, than from any pity for them. He excused thisact of savagery, so far as any excuse was necessary, on the ground thatthey were paynim Moors, and some among them had incited the attack uponhim at Calicut on his former voyage. The truth is they were rich; hewanted the plunder; and there was less likelihood of trouble if hekilled them than if they were left alive to publish and avenge theirlosses. It was merely an application of the freebooter's maxim, that"dead men tell no tales. "

Arriving at Calicut, he found that forty Portuguese who had been left toestablish a permanent post, had been killed. With unusual deliberation, he investigated the matter and demanded reparation, submission, and atreaty acknowledging the sovereignty of Portugal over India. This beingrefused, he bombarded the city, burned the ships in the harbor, andcompelled the Zamorin himself and all the native princes of the regionto submit and acknowledge themselves feudatories of Portugal. So rapidwere his movements, and so accurate his calculations, that before theclose of 1503 he had reached Lisbon again with thirteen vessels laden tothe gunwale with the plunder of the Orient--by all odds the richestargosy that had come to any European port since the days of the Romans. 

Da Gama was now forty-three years old, and must have been in the veryprime of manhood. Why so skilled a navigator, so intrepid a commander, so shrewd a negotiator, and so successful an administrator, who hadestablished the power of Portugal from Delagoa Bay to Calcutta, should, at that period of his life, have been laid upon the shelf for twentyyears, is a conundrum hard to answer. Knowing the character of DomManoel, it is not difficult to guess that his sordidness lay somewhereat the bottom of the trouble; but it is said to Gama's credit, that heneither whined nor remonstrated. 

It must be admitted, however, that he was succeeded by one who wasgreatly his superior both as a general, a statesman, and anadministrator. If Vasco da Gama laid the foundations of Portugueseempire in the East, Alfonso d'Albuquerque, "the Great, " broadened andbuilt upon them as he could never have done. From Aden to Cochin bloodflowed beneath his blows, but peace followed; and though he was termed"the Portuguese Mars, " his justice became traditional, and his sagacitywas shown in the permanence of the settlements he made, even under theincompetent viceroys who followed him. 

It was twenty years since Vasco da Gama had commanded a ship. Albuquerque was dead, and his successors had brought shame and defeatupon the Portuguese power in the East. Dom Manoel was dead also, andwhatever grievance he had against "the Discoverer of India, " seems tohave died with him. His successor, Dom João III. , casting about forsomeone to bring order out of confusion, success out of failure, andhonor out of shame, called again into his service the courtly andsagacious mariner, now over sixty years of age; and conferring upon himthe title of viceroy, sent him to retrieve the prestige his successorshad lost. His high spirit was yet undaunted, and when he neared thecoast of India and found the waters in a strange ferment for which noone could account, as there was neither wind nor tide, he said loftily:"The sea beholds its conqueror and trembles before him!" It soundsbombastic, but in the mouth of one who had first guided a civilized keelover its surface, such arrogance is at least pardonable. 

In the few months that intervened before his death he made the power ofPortugal once more respected in the East. When he died in Cochin, in1525, he was mourned by the natives as a just ruler, and by hiscountrymen as one who had saved to Portugal the richest part of thenational domain. It is not strange, therefore, that when his ashes wereconveyed to Lisbon, they were received with a pomp almost equal to thatwhich greeted him when he came as the discoverer of the Orient and itspriceless treasures. It is rare in history that one receives twotriumphs, the one while living and the other when dead, especially inconnection with the same achievement; but it is rarer still that one whohas won immortality should leave a record so singularly free frombickering and strife as that of the dignified and self-containedPortuguese rival of Columbus, Dom Vasco da Gama, the "Discoverer andSixth Viceroy of India, Count of Vidigueira, " where he lies entombed. Little is known of his private life; but there seems no doubt that itwas free from the stains that obscure his great rival's fame, from whomhe also differed in the fact that he neither begged nor boasted, and inold age was honored even more than in his prime. 

[Signature: Albion W. Tourgée. ]

THE CHEVALIER BAYARD

By HERBERT GREENHOUGH SMITH

(1476-1524)

[Illustration: The Chevalier Bayard. ]

Pierre Du Terrail was born in 1476, at Castle Bayard, in Dauphiny. Thehouse of Terrail belonged to the Scarlet of the ancient peers of France. The Lords of Bayard, during many generations, had died under the flagsof battle. Poictiers, Agincourt, and Montlhéry had taken, in succession, the last three; and in 1479, when Pierre was in his nurse's arms, hisfather, Aymon du Terrail, was carried from the field of Guinegate with afrightful wound, from the effects of which, although he survived forseventeen years to limp about his castle with the help of sticks, henever again put on his shirt of mail. 

The old knight was thus debarred from bringing up his son as his ownsquire. But the Bishop of Grenoble, his wife's brother, was a closefriend of Charles the Warrior, the great Duke of Savoy. When Pierre wasin his fourteenth year it was proposed that he should begin his knightlyeducation among the pages of the duke. The bishop promised to presenthim. A little horse was bought; a tailor was set to work to make agorgeous suit of silk and velvet; and Pierre was ready to set out. 

During six months the palace of Charles became his home. The lovable andhandsome boy soon won all hearts about him. The duke with delight sawhim leap and wrestle, throw the bar, and ride a horse better than anypage about the court. The duchess and her ladies loved to send him ontheir dainty missions. His temper was bright and joyous; his only fault, if fault it can be called, was an over-generosity of nature. His pursewas always empty; and when he had no money, any trifling service of alackey or a groom would be requited with a silver button, a dagger, or aclasp of gold. And such was to be his character through life. Time aftertime, in after years, his share of treasure, after some great victory, would have paid a prince's ransom; yet often he could not lay his handon five gold pieces. 

When Pierre had lived at the palace about half a year, the duke made avisit to Lyons, to pay his duty to the king. That king was Charles theEighth, then a boy of twenty, who was making his days fly merrily withtilts and hawking parties, and his nights with dances and the whispersof fair dames. The duke desired to carry with him to his sovereign apresent worthy of a king's acceptance. A happy notion struck him. Heresolved to present the king with Bayard and his horse. 

King Charles, delighted with his new page, placed him in the palace ofLord Ligny, a prince of the great house of Luxemburg, and there forthree years he continued to reside. During that time his training wasthe usual training of a page. But the child was the father of the man. Thoughts of great deeds, of tilts and battle-fields, of champions goingdown before his lance, of crowns of myrtle, and the smiles of lovelyladies--such already were the dreams which set his soul on fire. 

At seventeen Pierre received the rank of gentleman. Thenceforward he wasfree to follow his own fortune; he was free to seek the gloriousDulcinea of his dreams--a fame as bright and sparkling as his sword. Andthereupon begins to pass before us, brilliant as the long-drawn scenesof a dissolving view, the strange and splendid series of his exploits. He had not ceased to be a page ten days before the court was ringingwith his name. 

Sir Claude de Vauldre, Lord of Burgundy, was regarded as the stoutestknight in France. He was then at Lyons, and was about to hold a tilt, with lance and battle-axe, before the ladies and the king. His shieldwas hanging in the Ainay meadows, and beside it Montjoy, theking-at-arms, sat all day with his book open, taking down the names ofthose who struck the shield. Among these came Bayard. Montjoy laughed ashe wrote down his name; the king, Lord Ligny, and his own companions, heard with mingled trepidation and delight that Bayard had struck theblazon of Sir Claude. But no one had a thought of what was coming. Theday arrived, the tilt was held, and Bayard, by the voice of all theladies, bore off the prize above the head of every knight in Lyons. 

The glory of this exploit was extreme. It quickly spread. Three dayslater Bayard went to join the garrison at Aire. He found, as he rodeinto the little town, that the fame of his achievement had arrivedbefore him. Heads were everywhere thrust out of windows, and a band offifty of his future comrades issued on horseback from the garrison tobid him welcome. A few days after his arrival he held a tilt in his ownperson, after the example of Sir Claude. The palms were a diamond and aclasp of gold. Forty-eight of his companions struck his shield, and rodeinto the lists against him. Bayard overthrew the whole band, one by one, and was once more hailed at sunset by the notes of trumpets as thechampion of the tourney. 

It is not in tournaments and tilts, however, that a knight can win hisspurs. Bayard burned for battle. For many months he burned in vain; butat last the banners of the king were given to the wind, and Bayard, tohis unspeakable delight, found himself marching under Lord Ligny againstNaples. 

The two armies faced each other at Fornovo. The odds against the Frenchwere six to one, and the fight was long and bloody. When the greatvictory was at last decided, Bayard was among the first of those calledup before the king. That day two horses had dropped dead beneath him;his cuirass and sword were hacked and battered, and a captured standard, blazing with the arms of Naples, was in his hand. At the king's order heknelt down, and received upon the spot the rank of knight. At one boundhe had achieved the height of glory--to be knighted by his sovereign onthe field of battle. 

Bayard was not yet nineteen. His figure at that age was tall andslender; his hair and eyes were black; his complexion was a sunny brown;and his countenance had something of the eagle's. 

He was now for some time idle. He was left in garrison in Lombardy. Butfiercer fields were soon to call him. Ludovico Sforza took Milan. AtBinasco, Lord Bernardino Cazache, one of Sforza's captains, had threehundred horse; and twenty miles from Milan was Bayard's place ofgarrison. With fifty of his comrades he rode out one morning, bent onassaulting Lord Bernardino's force. The latter, warned by a scout oftheir approach, armed his party, and rushed fiercely from the fort. Thestrife was fought with fury; but the Lombards, slowly driven back towardMilan, at length wheeled round their horses and galloped like the windinto the city. 

Bayard, darting in his spurs, waving his bare blade, and shouting outhis battle-cry of "France, " was far ahead of his companions. Before heknew his danger, he had dashed in with the fugitives at the city gatesand reached the middle of the square in front of Sforza's palace. Hefound himself alone in the midst of the fierce enemy--with the whitecrosses of France emblazoned on his shield. 

Sforza, hearing a tremendous uproar in the square, came to a window ofthe palace and looked down. The square was swarming with the soldiersof Binasco, savage, hacked, and bloody; and in the centre of the yellingtumult, Bayard, still on horseback, was slashing at those who strove topull him from his seat. 

Sforza, in a voice of thunder, bade the knight be brought before him. Bayard, seeing that resistance was mere madness, surrendered to LordBernardino, and was led, disarmed, into the palace. Sforza was a soldiermore given to the ferocity than to the courtesies of war. But when theyoung knight stood before him, when he heard his story, when he lookedupon his bold yet modest bearing, the fierce and moody prince was movedto admiration. "Lord Bayard, " he said, "I will not treat you as aprisoner. I set you free; I will take no ransom; and I will grant youany favor in my power. " "My Lord Prince, " said Bayard, "I thank you foryour courtesy with all my soul. I will ask you only for my horse andarmor. " The horse was brought; Bayard sprang into the saddle, and anhour later was received by his companions with raptures of surprise andjoy, as one who had come alive out of the lion's den. 

Milan fell; Sforza was taken; and Bayard went into garrison atMonervino. At Andri, some miles distant, was a Spanish garrison underthe command of Don Alonzo de Sotomayor, one of the most famous knightsin Spain. Bayard, with fifty men, rode out one morning, in the hope offalling in with some adventure. It happened that he came across Alonzo, with an equal party, abroad on the same quest. Their forces met; bothsides flew joyously to battle, and for an hour the victory hung in thebalance. But at last Bayard, with his own sword, forced Alonzo tosurrender; and his party, carrying with them a large band of prisoners, rode back in triumph to the garrison. 

Sotomayor behaved in most unknightly fashion, and after being ransomed, accused Bayard of ill-treating him. Bayard sent him the lie, andchallenging him to a duel to the death, slew him. A few days later, theSpaniards, panting for reprisal, proposed to meet a party of the Frenchin combat, for the glory of their nations. Bayard received the challengewith delight. On the appointed day, thirteen knights of either side, glittering in full harness, armed with sword and battle-axe, andprepared for a contest to the death, rode forth into the lists. 

By the laws of such a tilt a knight unhorsed, or forced across theboundary, became a prisoner, and could fight no longer. The Spaniards, with great cunning, set themselves to maim the horses; and by thesetactics, eleven of the French were soon dismounted. Two alone were leftto carry on the contest, Bayard and Lord Orose. 

Then followed such a feat of arms as struck the gazers dumb. For fourhours these two held good their ground against the whole thirteen. TheSpaniards, stung with rage and shame, spurred till their heels drippedblood. In vain. Night fell; the bugles sounded; and still theunconquerable pair rode round the ring. 

But great as this feat was, it was soon to be succeeded by a greater. Afew weeks afterward the French and Spanish camps were posted on oppositesides of the river Gargliano. Between them was a bridge, in thepossession of the French; and some way farther down the river was aford, known only to the Spanish general, Pedro de Paez. He proposed tolure the French guards from the bridge, and then to seize it. And hisstratagem was ready. 

Early in the morning the French soldiers at the bridge were startled toperceive a party of the enemy, each horseman bearing a foot-soldier onhis crupper, approach the river at the ford and begin to move across it. Instantly, as Paez had intended, they left the bridge and rushed towardthe spot. Bayard, attended by Le Basque, was in the act of putting onhis armor. He sprang into the saddle, and was about to spur after hiscompanions, when he perceived, across the river, a party of two hundredSpaniards making for the bridge. The danger was extreme; for if thebridge were taken the camp itself would be in the most deadly peril. Bayard bade Le Basque gallop for his life to bring assistance. And hehimself rode forward to the bridge, alone. 

The Spaniards, on seeing a solitary knight advance against them, laughedloudly at his folly. Their foremost horsemen were already half-way overwhen Bayard, with his lance in rest, came flying down upon them. Hisonset swept the first three off the bridge into the river, and instantlythe rest, with cries of vengeance, rushed furiously upon him. Bayard, not to be surrounded, backed his horse against the railing of thebridge, rose up in his stirrups, swung his falchion with both handsabove his head, and lashed out with such fury that, with every blow abloody Spaniard fell into the river, and the whole troop recoiled inwonder and dismay, as if before a demon. While they still stood, half-dazed, two hundred glaring at one man, a shout was heard, and LeBasque, with a band of horsemen, was seen approaching like a whirlwind. In two minutes the Spaniards were swept back upon the land in hopelessrout--and the French camp was saved. 

Bayard received for this great feat the blazon of a porcupine, with thisinscription, _Unus agminis vires habet_--"One man has the might ofarmies. "

And still came exploit after exploit in succession--exploits of everykind of fiery daring. At Genoa, when the town revolted, Bayard stormedthe fort of the insurgents, quelled the riot, forced the city tosurrender, and hanged the leader on a pole. At Agnadello, against thetroops of Venice, he waded with his men through fens and ditches, tookthe picked bands of Lord d'Alvicino on the flank, scattered them to thewinds, and won the day. At Padua, during the long siege, he scoured thecountry with his band of horse, and frequently rode back to camp atnightfall with more prisoners than armed men. At Mirandola, where hefaced the papal armies, he laid a scheme to take the Pope himself. Asnowstorm kept the fiery Julius in his tent, and Bayard lost him. A fewdays afterward the pontiff's life was in his hands. A traitor offered, for a purse of gold, to poison the Pope's wine. But it is not theBayards of the world who fight with pots of poison; and the slipperyJudas had to fly in terror from the camp, or Bayard would infalliblyhave hanged him. 

So far, amid his life of perils, Bayard had escaped without a wound. Butnow his time had come. 

Brescia was taken by the troops of Venice. Gaston de Foix, thethunderbolt of Italy, marched with 12, 000 men to its relief. Bayard wasamong them. At the head of the storming-party he was first across theramparts, and was turning round to cheer his men to victory when a pikestruck him in the thigh. The shaft broke off, and the iron head remainedembedded in the wound. 

Two of his archers caught him as he fell, bore him out of the rush ofbattle, and partly stanched the wound by stripping up the linen of theirshirts. They then bore him to a mansion close at hand. The master of thehouse, who seems to have been a person of more wealth than valor, haddisappeared, and was thought to be hiding somewhere in a convent, leaving his wife and his two daughters to themselves. The girls had fledinto a hay-loft, and plunged themselves beneath the hay; but, on thethunderous knocking of the archers, the lady of the house came tremblingto the door. Bayard was carried in, a surgeon was luckily discoveredclose at hand, and the pike-head was extracted. The wound was pronouncedto be not dangerous. But Bayard, to his great vexation, found he wasdoomed to lie in idleness for several weeks. 

According to the laws of war, the house was his, and all the inmateswere his prisoners. And the fact was well for them. Outside the houseexisted such a scene of horror as, even in that age, was rare. Tenthousand men lay dead in the great square; the city was given up topillage, and it is said that the conquerors gorged themselves that daywith booty worth three million crowns. The troops were drunk withvictory and rapine. No man's life, no woman's honor, was in safety foran instant. 

Bayard set his archers at the door-way. His name was a talisman againstthe boldest; and in the midst of the fierce tumult that raged all roundit, the house in which he lay remained a sanctuary of peace. 

The ladies of the house were soon reassured. Bayard refused to regardthem as his prisoners or to take a coin of ransom. The daughters, twolovely and accomplished girls, were delighted to attend the woundedknight. They talked and sang to him, they touched the mandolin, theywoke the music of the virginals. In such society the hours flew lightlyby. The wound healed, and in six weeks Bayard was himself again. 

On the day of his departure the lady of the house came into hisapartment, and besought him, as their preserver, to accept a certainlittle box of steel. The box contained two thousand five hundred goldenducats. Bayard took it. "But five hundred ducats, " he said, "I desireyou to divide for me among the nuns whose convents have been pillaged. "Then, turning to her daughters, "Ladies, " he said, "I owe you more thanthanks for your kind care of me. Soldiers do not carry with them prettythings for ladies; but I pray each of you to accept from me a thousandducats, to aid your marriage portions. " And with that he poured thecoins into their aprons. 

[Illustration: Bayard taking Leave of the Ladies of Brescia. ]

His horse was brought, and he was about to mount, when the girls camestealing down the steps into the castle court, each with a littlepresent, worked by their own hands, which they desired him to accept. One brought a pair of armlets, made of gold and silver thread; theother, a purse of crimson satin. And this was all the spoil that Bayardcarried from the inestimable wealth of Brescia--the little keepsakes oftwo girls whom he had saved. 

The scenes of Bayard's life at which we have been glancing have beenchiefly those of his great feats of arms. And so it must be still; forit is these of which the details have survived in history. And yet itwas such incidents as these at Brescia which made the fame of Bayardwhat it was and what it is. To his foes, he was the flower of chivalry;but to his friends, he was, besides, the most adored of men. It is saidthat in his native province of Dauphiny, at his death, more than ahundred ancient soldiers owed to him the roof that covered their oldage; that more than a hundred orphan girls had received their marriageportions from his bounty. But of such acts the vast majority areunrecorded; for these are not the deeds which shine in the world's eye. 

Gaston de Foix was now before Ravenna. Bayard rode thither with allspeed; he was just in time. Two days after his arrival came the battle. Weak though he still was from his long illness, Bayard on that day wasseen, as ever, "shining above his fellow-men. " He turned the tide ofvictory; he tore two standards from the foe with his own hand; and hewas first in the pursuit. 

Two months after, Bayard was at Pavia. The little troop with which hewas then serving had there sought refuge under Louis d'Ars. The armiesof the Swiss burst in upon them. Bayard, with a handful of soldiers inthe market-place, held, for two hours, their whole force at bay, whilehis companions were retreating from the town across a bridge of boats. As he himself was crossing, last of all, a shot struck him in theshoulder, and stripped it to the bone. No surgeon was at hand. Thewound, roughly stanched with moss, brought on a fever, and for some timehe lay in danger of his life. 

And now Bayard was to follow a new master. Louis XII. Died; Francis I. Received the crown; and Bayard, with the young king, marched to Milan, which the Swiss had seized and held. 

On Thursday, September 13, 1515, King Francis pitched his camp atMarignano, before the city of the spires. No danger of attack wasapprehended; the king sat calmly down to supper in his tent; when all atonce the Swiss, aroused to madness by the fiery eloquence of Cardinal deSion, broke like a tempest from the city, and fell upon the camp. TheFrench, by the red light of sunset, flew to arms, and fought with furytill night fell. Both armies sat all night on horseback, waiting for thedawn; and with the first streaks of morning, flew again to battle. Itwas noon before the bitter contest ended, and the Swiss, still fightingevery inch of ground, drew slowly back toward the city. It had been, indeed, as Trevulzio called it, a Battle of the Giants. And the greatestof the giants had been Bayard and the king. 

That evening Francis held, before his tent, the ceremony of creatingknights of valor. But before the ceremony began, a proclamation by theheralds startled and delighted all the camp. Francis had determined toreceive the rank in his own person. Bayard was to knight the king!

In the days of the primeval chivalry, when even princes were compelledto win their spurs, such a spectacle was not uncommon. But not for ageshad a king been knighted by a subject on a field of battle. Nor was anysplendor wanting that could make the spectacle impressive. Nowhere inAriosto is a picture of more gorgeous details than is presented by thisscene of history; the great crimson silk pavilion, the seat spread withcloth of gold, the blazoned banners, the heralds with their silvertrumpets, the multitude all hushed in wonder, the plumed and glitteringcompany of knights and men-at-arms. Such were the surroundings amidwhich Francis knelt, and Bayard, with his drawn sword, gave theaccolade. 

The sword with which he had performed the ceremony Bayard keptreligiously until his death. It was then mislaid, and neverrediscovered. The loss is a misfortune. For few relics could exist ofmore romantic interest than the sword with which the noblest of allknights did honor to the most magnificent of kings. 

Bayard's glory had long been at such a height that hardly any exploitcould increase it. And yet an exploit was at hand at which, even whenBayard was the actor of it, all France and Germany were to stand inwonder. 

The German emperor, marching with a mighty army on Champagne, tookMonson by surprise, and advanced against Mézières. If Mézières weretaken, the whole province would be in the most deadly peril. And yetdefence seemed hopeless; the place had no artillery, and the rampartswere in ruins. At this crisis Bayard volunteered to hold the crazy city. "No walls are weak, " he said, in his own noble style, "which aredefended by brave men. "

With a small but chosen band he hastened to Mézières. Two days after hisarrival the Count of Nassau, with a vast array of men and cannon, appeared before the walls. The siege began--a siege which seemedimpossible to last twelve hours. 

But day after day went by, and still the town was standing. Every daythe ramparts gaped with cannon-shot; but every night, as if by miracle, they rose again. The defenders suffered from wounds, pestilence, andfamine; but Bayard had put every man on oath to eat his horse, and thenhis boots, before he would surrender. Three weeks passed; and when atlast the king arrived with forces to relieve the town, he found a fewgaunt spectres still glaring defiance from the battered ramparts againsta hundred cannon and more than forty thousand men. 

Nothing can more strikingly describe the part of Bayard than thetestimony of his enemies themselves. Some time after, Mary of Hungaryasked the Count of Nassau in disdain how it came to pass that with ahost of troops and guns he could not take a crazy pigeon-house. "Because, " replied the count, "there was an eagle in it. "

It was Bayard's last great exploit. It had been his lifelong wish thathe might fall upon the field of battle. And so it was to be. 

Early in the spring of 1524, the French camp was posted at Biagrasso. Lord Bonnivet, who was in command, found himself, after a prolongedresistance, at last compelled by famine and sickness to retire beforethe Spaniards. It was Bayard's constant custom to be first in anadvance and last in retreat, and that day he was, as usual, in the postof danger. It was for the last time. Friends and enemies were to hear, before night fell, the thrilling tidings that Bayard was no more. 

On both sides of the road which the retreating army had to traverse theSpaniards had placed in ambush a large force of arquebusiers. It was aweapon which Bayard held in detestation; for while skill and couragewere required to wield a spear or sword, any skulking wretch could pulla trigger from behind a stone. From one of these hated weapons hereceived his death. As he was retreating slowly with his face toward thefoe, a stone from a cross-arquebus struck him on the side. He instantlysank forward on his saddle-bow, exclaiming in a faint voice, "Great God!I am killed. "

His squire helped him from his horse, and he was laid beneath a tree. His spine was broken in two places; and he felt within himself that hewas dying. He took his sword, and kissed the cross-hilt, murmuring aloudthe Latin prayer, "_Miserere mei, Deus, secundum magnam misericordiamtuam_. "

The Spaniards were approaching. His friends made some attempt to raisehim and to bear him from the field. But the least movement made himfaint with agony; and he felt that all was vain. He charged hiscompanions, as they loved him, to turn his face toward the enemy, and toretire into a place of safety; and he sent, with his last breath, hissalutation to the king. With breaking hearts they did as he desired, andhe was left alone. 

When the Spaniards reached the spot, they found him still alive, butsinking fast. The conduct of Lord Pescara, the Spanish general, towardhis dying foe, was worthy of a great and noble knight. He bade his ownpavilion to be spread above him; cushions were placed beneath his head;and a friar was brought, to whom he breathed his last confession. As hewas uttering the final words, his voice faltered, and his head fell. Thefriar looked upon his face--and saw that all was over. 

GUSTAVUS VASA[11]

 [Footnote 11: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By CHARLES F. HORNE

(1496-1560)

Three or four hundred years ago the little country of Denmark was ofmuch greater importance than it is to-day. It had the mightiest navy inthe world, and its rule over the seas was undisputed. Its appearance onthe map was also very different then, for it not only extended over muchof the German territory now surrounding it, but also held all Norway asa province. Sweden, too, though often rebelling, and being punished withterrible cruelty, was, up to the year 1523, a dependency of the Danishcrown. 

Naturally the Danes rather looked down on the conquered Swedes, and madethem the subject of many rude jests and taunts. There was in thebeginning of the sixteenth century at the great Danish university atUpsala a Swedish boy, who with the rest of his countrymen must havesuffered many such insults. His proud, brave, little heart rebelledagainst this treatment; and one day, when his teacher had driven himbeyond endurance with his severe punishments and bitter sneers, the boysnatched out his little sword and plunged it straight through themaster's book. "I will teach you something, too, " he cried; "teach youthat the Swedes are no cowards, for some day I will gather them togetherand treat every Dane in Sweden as I do your book. " Then he rushed out ofthe school, never to return. 

[Illustration: Gustavus Vasa. ]

Many lads have, in some moment of passion made big boasts of what theywould do "some day. " Few ever made so tremendous a vaunt; fewer stillever so completely fulfilled their threats; and, perhaps, no one everstruggled so patiently, so nobly, nor against such tremendous obstaclesbefore the goal was reached, as did this angry little Swede, known tohistory as Gustavus Vasa. He was born in 1496, and was the oldest son ofSir Eric Johansson, governor of a little group of islands in the Gulf ofBothnia. Returning home after his precipitate flight from school, Gustavus grew up under the eye of his stalwart father, who trained himto be not only a strong and a shrewd man, but also a good one. 

Sent at the age of eighteen to the court of Svante Sture, the regentgoverning Sweden, he threw himself eagerly into the great war forfreedom which his countrymen had begun under that mighty leader. Thisstruggle was so far successful that four years later King Christian, ofDenmark, utterly defeated on land and with his fleet in sore dangeranchored off Stockholm, and proposed a peace. He asked that hostages besent to remain on his ships, while he was on shore arranging the treaty. This was readily agreed to, and the hostages went on board without athought of evil, the king having guaranteed their safe return. YoungVasa, although only twenty-two, had already gained such prominence amongthe patriots as to be one of those selected for this duty. Just as heand his companions reached the ships, the wind, which had hitherto blownfrom such a direction that King Christian was unable to leave theharbor, suddenly changed, and the king as promptly changing his plans, hoisted sail and fled from Stockholm, carrying with him, as prisoners, the hostages whom he was bound in honor to respect. But this grim andcruel old king never at any time let himself be checked by his promisedword; and now he seriously considered slaying these men as rebels andtraitors. Finally he concluded to hold them as prisoners. 

Gustavus was placed for safe keeping in the castle of Eric Bauer, aJutland noble, where he remained for two years. He lived on the verypoorest food, and far worse, had to endure taunts a hundred times morebitter than those of his old school days, from the young nobles abouthim. Worse still, he learned from them that King Christian was gatheringanother and greater army with which to utterly crush the rebelliousSwedes; and he could neither warn his countrymen nor raise a finger togive them help. But his courage and patience never failed him. Throughall that weary time he was always planning and watching for a chance toescape. At last it came. Deceived by his apparent indifference hisjailers permitted him to ride, and even to hunt with them, but alwaysunder a careful watch. One day, however, the hunt grew so exciting thateveryone forgot Gustavus and rode hard and fast after the game. He sawhis opportunity, and rode hardest and fastest of all. Soon he was firstin the race; but he did not stop when he reached the captured deer. There was no one in sight and he hurried on faster than ever. When hishorse gave out he pressed forward on foot, and nightfall found him fortymiles from the castle. He astonished a countryman by trading clotheswith him; and the next day, thus disguised, he hired himself to a droverto help him drive a herd of cattle to the great German city of Lubeck. Probably no cattle had ever been so driven before. Our hero knew wellthat the pursuit would be fast and furious, and he kept the herd almoston a steady run. The old drover was in a perpetual state of amazement;he did not know whether to regard his new assistant as a madman or asthe most valuable hand he had ever hired. Gustavus never let the poorold fellow rest a moment; he had to eat his meals as he walked, and evento totter along half asleep. At last animals and men reached Lubeck, allbadly worn out, but safe, for Lubeck was a free city and a powerful one, and when, an hour later, the enraged Eric Bauer galloped up to its greatgates, he knew that his prisoner was beyond his reach, and that unlesshe could persuade the citizens to give him up there was no chance ofrecapturing him. 

The citizens did not give Gustavus up. He and his jailer were broughtface to face before the City Council to argue their case. When Eric saidhis prisoner had broken his word in escaping, Gustavus related how theking had broken his in the capture. When Eric threatened them all withhis master's wrath, the shrewd old burghers laughed. They knew KingChristian had other things to keep him busy enough, and that he wouldthink twice before attacking their great league of cities. Besides, thisyoung man had already shown that he could do great things, and, as oneof the Council said, "Who knows what he may win if we send him home. " SoEric was forced to leave without his captive; and after some delay, during which he was treated with high honor, Gustavus was sent home bythe kind Lubeckers with the promise to help him, if need be, with bothmen and money. 

Indeed Sweden needed all the help she could get just then; but it didnot seem as though one man could do much for her. King Christian hadcarried out his threats, and landing with a great army, defeated thebrave Sture and spread terror and destruction through all the land. Thetale of his cruelty and treacheries belongs rather to the history ofSweden than of Gustavus. Enough to say that, having by promises ofpeace and pardon got all the leading Swedes into his power, he had themmurdered, and then he and his soldiers went on slaying the common peopleright and left in mere wanton savagery. All the surviving nobles were inhis pay; the least suspicion of an uprising was crushed with an ironhand, the least murmur of discontent brought death. Never had Swedenseemed more helpless in the power of the Danes. 

To this unhappy country came Gustavus Vasa, and at once he was declaredan outlaw, and a great price was offered for his head; for the king knewthat here survived one man whom he could neither terrify nor bribe. Onecastle still held out against the besieging Danes, and for this Gustavusset out. But its defenders were disheartened by their hopeless position, and were almost on the point of surrender. They answered angrily to hisbrave words, and he left them to try and rouse the peasantry all overthe land. 

Now began for him such a period of danger, sorrow, and privation, as fewmen could have endured and lived. The land was filled with Danes eagerfor his capture. The peasants were timid and disheartened. To hispassionate patriotic appeal they answered only, "We have salt andherring still. If we rebel we will lose them too. " Often they drove himaway with stones. Sometimes his own countrymen would have slain him forthe promised reward. At length it was no longer possible for him toremain in Southern Sweden, and with a single servant he fled to thehighlands of Dalecarlia, a province in the north. From this on his lifereads like some wild romance of adventure. He had the grim courage andgrit and perseverance of a bull-dog. Nothing could dishearten him in hisseemingly hopeless and insane resolve to raise the Swedes once moreagainst Christian. 

He found as much devotion in some places, as he did treachery in others. Having crossed a ferry in advance of his servant, this latter rode offwith their small stock of money. Gustavus plunged his horse into theriver, and riding back after the faithless servitor, pursued him all daystraight back into the enemy's country, until the terrified thief, abandoning horse and money and all, fled into the woods. Gustavusrecovered his property and pursued his course. The Danes swarmed intoDalecarlia after him. He disguised himself as a woodcutter, and lived assuch. One day he met in the woods a giant Dalesman named Liss Lars, and, as they were chatting together, a great bear attacked Gustavus. After afierce battle Lars slew the brute with a blow of his axe. The twowoodcutters became friends, and Lars got his companion a place under thesame master as himself, where Gustavus remained a whole winterunsuspected. Often he himself was questioned by the Danish spies, hunting for the now famous Vasa. 

[Illustration: Abdication of Gustavus Vasa. ]

Once there was like to have been trouble between the two friends, forLars loved a maiden at the farm, who out of coquetry often smiled atGustavus, until the giant Dalesman became terribly jealous. One day whenshe brought them their noon-day ale, she handed it first to Gustavus, who, after drinking, returned it with a pleasant word and a pat on thecheek. With a roar like a mad bull, Lars rushed on his comrade andseized him in his giant arms. As he did so he saw around his neck theembroidered collar worn by the Swedish nobility. The astounded Dalesmanstaggered back, pointing to it. "Either thou art a thief, or the greatGustavus himself. " "Ay, friend Lars, I am the outlaw Gustavus, son ofEric. Now, wilt thou hand me over to the Danes, or smash my head againstthe floor, as just now thou seemedest minded?" "I will swear eternalfealty to thee, " cried Lars; "and if thou raisest the standard ofrevolt, I will be the first to join. "

Soon, however, even this retired spot became too unsafe, and Gustavusfled farther north. Once an old schoolmate offered him shelter, andthen, while Gustavus slept, rode away to get help to capture him. Butthe housewife, suspecting her husband's treachery, roused Gustavus, whoclimbed through a window twenty feet from the ground, and escaped on ahorse the good woman had provided. 

At another time, by burying himself in a load of hay he was carried pastsome Danish soldiers who were searching for him. They thrust theirspears through the hay and then rode on. One of the spears wounded thehidden man, and, seeing the blood trickle down, the soldiers hurriedback. But the driver had snatched out his knife and given a slight cutto one of his horses; and when he pointed to this, charging one of themwith having done it, they rode away again laughing at their ownsuspicions. In a hundred other equally dangerous situations he escapedeither by his own courage, or by the ready wit of the brave Dalecarlianpeasants; and at last the Danish spies gave up the hunt for him, andreturned to Stockholm. 

Then he came forth again, and in ringing words urged the people torevolt. But though they loved Gustavus, and loved Sweden, yet they heldback in doubt and fear from his daring plans; and so the hero left them, and went on through the surrounding provinces, telling everywhere ofKing Christian's cruelty, and sowing seed which was to ripen later on. Yet nowhere could he rouse the peasants to action, until word came thatthe cruel king had sworn to cut a hand and foot from every man inSweden, that they might never revolt again. Now all felt that there wasnothing left but fight. In great haste the Dalecarlians sent afterGustavus and brought him back. They held a great meeting, and to it cameGustavus' wood-cutter friend, Liss Lars. He made a great homely speech, saying, "This Gustavus, son of Eric, is a man. He has threshed with me, and I know him. We can trust him, and sense has he, more than all of usput together. He must be our leader. "

All swore fealty to Gustavus; and he bade them make swords and spearsand arrows on their own anvils, while he went on again to rouse theother provinces. King Christian had been called home by a rumor ofrebellion there, but his lieutenants thought to crush this littleuprising of the Dalecarlians as easily as they had a few others, and oneof them marched promptly there with a large force. The brave peasants, led by Liss Lars and another, attacked him as he was crossing a riverand defeated him with great slaughter. Gustavus heard rumors of thebattle, and that his little army was destroyed. In wild haste hegalloped back to Dalecarlia to find them celebrating their victory. 

Now did the men he had roused in every quarter come pouring in; and hedrilled them, and trained them, and encouraged them, became head andhand and heart for them all, till soon he had such an army that he mightfairly hope to match any force the Danes could bring against him. Thenhe sent out a proclamation declaring Christian deposed for his cruel andbloody tyranny, and calling all true Swedes to join him in making warupon the oppressor. 

Thus did this young man at twenty-five become the leader of a greatrebellion, which he himself had created and controlled. He led his menagainst one fortress after another. There were long sieges and terriblebattles; but Gustavus proved himself as great a general as he was a man;and two years later, in 1525, Stockholm, the last town remaining to theDanes in Sweden, surrendered to his army. Christian himself had beenunable to leave Denmark, but he was in constant communication with hislieutenants, and wild was his rage at the continued success of his youngopponent. Gustavus's mother and sister, with many other Swedish ladies, had fallen into the king's hands at the time of those wholesale murders;and he tried to frighten the hero with threats of what he would do tothem; but poor Gustavus had learned only too surely that most of themwere already dead from his cruel treatment. Finally this brute wasdeposed by his own subjects, and a new king chosen. This king made somefaint attempts to recover Sweden, but he had small chance against such aman as Vasa. 

The hero and his army entered Stockholm in triumph; and such of the oldnobles as were left, gathered in a council and offered him the crownwhich he had wrested from Denmark. He refused it, saying he had laboredfor his country, not himself, and bade the nobles choose from amongthemselves some older man. But the whole country cried out that theywould submit to no man but him; he had freed them, he should rule them. So there was, what seldom has been in history, a free choice of a kingby a united people; and Gustavus, son of Eric, became Gustavus I. , Kingof Sweden. Five years before he had been carried off a helpless, almostfriendless prisoner, by a mighty king. Now they had, by sheer force ofcharacter, changed places; the king was in a dungeon, Gustavus on athrone. 

Though the remainder of our hero's life was less adventurous, it was noless noble. He made, as all had foreseen, a great king, showing himselfas wise and high-minded as he had already proven brave and patient. Hefound Sweden a petty province, he left it a mighty kingdom; he found ita wilderness, poor, thinly peopled, and semi-barbarous, he left itprosperous, populous, and civilized. He himself was the head and centreof all this, performing an amount of work which seems almost impossiblefor one man. His letters, some of which remain, are clear, minute indetail, and exact. He knew just how he wanted things done, and he hadthem done his way. His own life might be summed up in his advice to histwo sons, given when, only a few months before his death, he resigned acrown grown too heavy for his failing strength. "Think carefully, execute promptly, _never give up_, never delay. Resolves not carried outare like clouds without rain in times of drought. "

MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS

By SAMUEL L. KNAPP

(1542-1587)

[Illustration: Mary, Queen of Scots. ]

Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots, was the third child of James V. And hiswife, Mary of Guise. That lady had borne him previously, two sons, bothof whom died in infancy. Mary was born on December 7, 1542, in thepalace of Linlithgow. She was only seven days old when she lost herfather, who, at the time of her birth, lay sick at the palace ofFalkland. 

The young queen was crowned by Cardinal Beaton, at Stirling, onSeptember 9, 1543. Soon after her birth, the Parliament nominatedcommissioners, to whom they intrusted the charge of the queen's person, leaving all her other interests to the care of her mother. The first twoyears of her life, Mary spent at Linlithgow, where it is said she hadthe small-pox, but the disease must have been of a particularly gentlekind, having left behind no visible traces. During the greater part ofthe years 1545, 1546, and 1547, she resided at Stirling Castle, in thekeeping of Lords Erskine and Livingstone. She was afterward removed toInchmahome, a sequestered island in the lake of Monteith; afterremaining there upward of two years, it was thought expedient by thosewho had at the time the disposal of her future destiny, that she shouldbe removed to France. She was accordingly, in the fifth year of her age, taken to Dunbarton, where she was delivered to the French admiral, whosevessels were waiting to receive her; and attended by Lords Erskine andLivingstone, her three natural brothers, and four young ladies ascompanions, she left Scotland. 

The thirteen happiest years of Mary's life were spent in France. She wasreceived at Brest, by order of Henry II. , with all the honors due to herrank and royal destiny. She travelled by easy stages to the palace atSt. Germain en Laye; and to mark the respect that was paid to her, theprison gates of every town she came to were thrown open, and theprisoners set free. Shortly after her arrival she was sent, along withthe king's own daughters, to one of the first convents in France, whereyoung ladies of distinction were instructed in the elementary branchesof education. 

Henry, to confirm the French authority in Scotland, was eager to marryFrancis, his son, to Mary. Francis, the young dauphin, who was muchabout Mary's own age, was far inferior to her both in personalappearance and mental endowments. They had been playmates from infancy;they had prosecuted all their studies together; he loved her with thetenderest affection; it was not in Mary's nature to be indifferent tothose who evinced affection for her; and if her fondness for Francis wasmingled with pity, it has long been asserted that "pity is akin tolove. "

On April 24, 1558, the nuptials took place in the church of Notre Dame, with great splendor. Every eye was fixed on the youthful Mary; and, inspired by those feelings which beauty seldom fails to excite, everyheart offered up prayers for her future welfare and happiness. She wasnow at that age when feminine loveliness is perhaps most attractive. Itis not to be supposed, indeed, that her charms, in her sixteenth year, had ripened into that full-blown maturity which they afterward attained;but they were on this account only the more fascinating. Some haveconjectured that Mary's beauty has been extolled far above its realmerits; and it cannot be denied that many vague and erroneous notionsexist regarding it. But that her countenance possessed, in a pre-eminentdegree, the something which constitutes beauty, is sufficiently attestedby the unanimous declaration of all contemporary writers. Her person wasfinely proportioned, and her carriage exceedingly graceful anddignified. 

Shortly after the espousals, Mary and her husband retired to one oftheir princely summer residences, where she discharged the duties of awife without ostentation. But the intriguing and restless ambition ofher uncles could not allow her to remain long quiet. About this timeMary Tudor, who had succeeded Edward VI. On the English throne, died;and although the Parliament had declared that the succession rested inher sister Elizabeth, it was thought proper to claim for Mary Stuart aprior right. But it was destined that there was to be another and moreunexpected death at the French court. Henry II. Was killed at atournament by Count Montgomery. Francis and Mary succeeded to thethrone. Mary was now at the very height of European grandeur, for shewas queen of two powerful countries, and heir presumptive of a third. She stood unluckily on too high a pinnacle to be able to retain herposition long. Francis died after a short reign of seventeen months, andthe heir to the throne Charles IX. , being a minor, Catharine de Medicisbecame once more virtually queen of France; and from her Mary couldexpect no favors. 

In August, 1561, Mary left France with tears, and was received inScotland with every mark of respect. She came, alone and unprotected, toassume the government of a country which had long been distinguished forits rebellious turbulence. Contrasted, too, with her former situation, that which she was now about to fill appeared particularly formidable. By whatever counsel she acted, the blame of all unpopular measures wouldbe sure to rest with her. If she favored the Protestants, the Catholicswere sure to renounce her, and if she assisted the Catholics, theProtestants would be again found assembling at Perth, listening, witharms in their hands, to the sermons of John Knox, pulling down theremaining monasteries, and subscribing additional covenants. Is itsurprising, then, that she found it difficult to steer her coursebetween the rocks of Scylla and the whirlpools of Charybdis? Ifmisfortunes ultimately overtook her, the wonder unquestionably ought tobe, not that they ever arrived, but that they should have been guardedagainst so long. 

To further their political views, Mary's hand was sought for by princesof the several European courts. The princes of the house of Austria, apprehensive of the ambition of France, wished a union between theScottish queen and the Archduke Charles. Philip II. , envying theAustrians so important a prize, used all his influence to procure herhand for his son Don Carlos, heir to the extensive domains of theSpanish monarchy. Catharine de Medicis, jealous of them both, offeredthe hand of the Duke of Anjou, brother to her former husband, andElizabeth, the artful queen of England, recommended Lord Robert Dudley, afterward Earl of Leicester. 

Mary shunned all their intrigues, and followed the bent of her owninclination in marrying Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley, eldest son of theEarl of Lennox. Darnley, at this time in the bloom of youth, wasdistinguished for the beauty and grace of his person, and accomplishedin every elegant art; and he also professed the Catholic religion. Darnley's qualifications, however, were superficial, and abandoninghimself to pleasure and the vices of youth, he became gradually carelessand indifferent toward the queen, whose disappointments andmortifications were in proportion to the fervor of her formersentiments. Her French secretary was one David Rizzio, who was possessedof musical talents, and to whom she became much attached. Darnley becamejealous of Rizzio, and he, with a number of conspirators, tookpossession of the palace on March 9, 1566, while the queen was at supperwith the Countess of Argyle and Rizzio. The latter clung to the queenfor protection, but he was torn from her and dragged to the nextapartment, where the fury of his enemies put an end to his existence, bypiercing his body with fifty-six wounds. The conspirators put Mary underguard, but she escaped, and by the aid of Bothwell and others, she wassoon enabled to put her enemies at defiance. This event served toalienate Mary's affections from Darnley. 

On June 19, 1566, the queen gave birth to a son; an event more fortunateto the nation than to his unhappy mother, whose evil destiny receivedaggravation from a circumstance which appeared so flattering to herhopes. 

Darnley, neglected by the queen, and despised by the people, remained insolitude at Stirling, but alarmed by the rumor of a design to seize hisperson, he thought fit to retire to his father at Glasgow. On his waythither he was seized with a dangerous illness. Mary visited him, andit is said prevailed on him to be removed to the capital, where shewould attend on him. Kirk of Field, a house belonging to the provost ofa collegiate church, was prepared for his reception. The situation, on arising ground and in an open field, was recommended for the salubrity ofits air. 

At two o'clock on the morning of February 10, 1567, the city was alarmedby a sudden explosion. The house in which Darnley resided was blown upwith gunpowder. The dead body of Henry and a servant, who slept in hisroom, were found lying in an adjacent garden, without marks of violence, and untouched by fire. Thus perished Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley, in histwenty-first year, a youth whom the indulgence of nature and fortune hadcombined to betray to his ruin. 

This execrable deed gave rise to various suspicions and conjectures, which, while they glanced at the queen from her new sentiments withregard to her husband, were, with a general consent, directed towardBothwell. A proclamation was issued from the throne, offering aconsiderable reward for the murderer. Neither the power and greatness ofBothwell, nor his favor with the queen, secured him from the indignantsentiment of the nation. He had a mock trial, in which he was acquitted. 

The queen, on a journey from Edinburgh to Stirling, to visit her son, was seized by a party of Bothwell's and conducted a prisoner to hiscastle at Dunbar. Here he prevailed on her to marry him, and on hersubsequent appearance in public she was received with a sullen anddisrespectful silence by the people. 

The transactions which had passed during the last three months inScotland were beheld by Europe with horror and detestation. The murderof the king, the impunity with which his assassins were suffered toescape, and the marriage of the queen with the man accused of beingtheir chief, were a series of incidents, which, for their atrocity andrapid succession, were scarcely to be paralleled in the pages ofhistory. A general infamy fell upon the Scotch nation, which wasregarded, from these circumstances, as a people void of decency, humanity, and honor. 

[Illustration: Mary Stuart and Rizzio. ]

The discontented nobles confederated together and flew to arms. Bothwelland Mary were unable to stem the opposition; she surrendered to herenemies, and was conducted a captive to the castle of Lochleven. Maryhad for some weeks suffered the terrors of a prison; of her deliverancethere seemed to be but little prospect; no one had appeared as herdefender or advocate. Thus solitary, deserted, and distressed, herpersecutors reckoned on her fears and on her sex. Lord Lindsay, thefiercest zealot of the party, was employed to communicate their plan tothe queen, and to obtain from her a subscription to the papers withwhich he was charged. In the execution of his commission, he sparedneither harshness nor brutality; certain death was offered to theunhappy victim, as the alternative of her refusal. Thus urged, sheyielded to the pressure of circumstances, and put her signature to thepapers presented to her by Lindsay. By one of these papers she resignedthe crown, renounced all share in the government, and consented tothe coronation of the young king. By another, she appointed Murray tothe regency, and vested him with the powers and privileges of theoffice. Pierced with grief, and bathed in indignant tears, she signedthe deed of her own humiliation, and furnished to her adversaries theinstrument of her abasement. 

The people were not generally satisfied with the conduct of Murray, theregent, and the scattered party of the queen began gradually to reunite. Such was the disposition of the nation when Mary, through the medium ofGeorge Douglas, a youth of eighteen, contrived to escape from prison. She flew on horseback, at full speed, to Hamilton, where, before a trainof great and splendid nobles, and an army 6, 000 strong, she declaredthat the deeds signed by her during her imprisonment, and theresignation of her crown, were extorted from her by fear. An engagementbetween her forces and those of Murray took place at Hamilton; her armywas defeated. She stood on a hill and saw all that passed. In confusionand horror she began her flight, and so terrible was the trepidation ofher spirits, that she stopped not till she reached the abbey ofDunrenan, in Galloway, fully sixty Scottish miles from the field ofbattle. In the space of eleven days she had beheld herself a prisoner, at the mercy of her greatest enemies; at the head of a powerful army, with a numerous train of nobles devoted to her service; and a fugitive, at the hazard of her life, driven, with a few attendants, to lurk in acorner of her kingdom. Still anxious and agitated in her retreat, shewas impelled by her fears to an irretrievable step, fatal to all herfuture hopes. In vain her attendants, with the lords Herries and Heming, implored her on their knees not to confide in Elizabeth, her resolutionwas not to be shaken, and to England she fatally resolved to fly. Nolonger an object of jealousy, but compassion, Mary trusted in thegenerosity of a sister queen, that she would not take advantage of hercalamitous situation. She got into a fisherman's boat, and with abouttwenty attendants, landed at Workington, in Cumberland, whence, withmarks of respect, she was conducted to Carlisle. 

She addressed, on her arrival in England, a letter to the queen, inwhich she painted in glowing colors the injuries she had sustained, andimplored the sympathy and assistance which her present situation sopressingly required. Elizabeth and her council deliberated upon thecourse which, in this extraordinary event, it would be proper to pursue;and at last determined, in spite of justice and humanity, to availherself of the advantages given her by the confidence of her rival. Marydemanded a personal interview with Elizabeth, but this honor she wastold must be denied to her. She had no intention of acknowledgingsuperiority in the queen of England, who, she expected, would, as afriend, herself receive and examine her defences. But Elizabeth chose toconsider herself as umpire between the Scottish queen and her subjects;and she prepared to appoint commissioners to hear the pleadings of bothparties, and wrote to the Regent of Scotland to empower proper personsto appear in his name, and produce what could be alleged in vindicationof his proceedings. 

Mary, who had hitherto relied on the professions of Elizabeth, was bythis proposal at once undeceived, and she was, in despite of herremonstrances and complaints, conducted to Bolton, a castle of LordScroop, on the borders of Yorkshire. Commissioners met on both sides, and after protracted deliberations for four months, they left thingsjust as they found them. 

The last eighteen years of Mary's life were spent in imprisonment, andare comparatively a blank in her personal history. She was transported, at intervals, from castle to castle, and was intrusted sometimes to thecharge of one nobleman, and sometimes to another; but for her the activescenes of life were past; the splendor and dignity of a throne were tobe enjoyed no longer; the sceptre of her native country was never moreto grace her hands; her will ceased to influence a nation; her voice didnot travel beyond the walls that witnessed her confinement. She cameinto England at the age of twenty-five, in the prime of womanhood, thefull vigor of health, and the rapidly ripening strength of herintellectual powers. She was there destined to feel, in all itsbitterness, that "hope deferred maketh the heart sick. " Year after yearpassed slowly on, and year after year her spirits became more exhausted, her health feebler, and her doubts and fears confirmed, till they atlength settled in despair. Premature old age overtook her before she waspast the meridian of life; and for some time before her death, her hairwas white "with other snows than those of age. " Yet, during the whole ofthis long period, amid sufferings which would have broken many amasculine spirit, and which, even in our own times, have been seen toconquer those who had conquered empires, Mary retained the innate graceand dignity of her character, never forgetting that she had been born aqueen, or making her calamities an excuse for the commission of anypetty meanness, which she would have scorned in the days of herprosperity. Full of incident as her previous life had been, brilliant inmany of its achievements, it may be doubted whether the forbearance, fortitude, and magnanimity displayed in her latter years, do not redoundmore highly to her praise than all that preceded. Elizabeth wished forsome plausible pretext to take away the life of the unhappy Mary, whom, though so defenceless, she regarded as a dangerous rival. The Duke ofNorfolk made offers of marriage to Mary, to which she consented, in caseshe should be liberated. His scheme also was to favor the Catholiccause, and on its being discovered he was thrown into prison, where, after six months' confinement, he was liberated, on condition of hisholding no further intercourse with the queen. He was, however, arrestedthe second time, and executed. 

A conspiracy soon after took place, through the blind affection of theEnglish Catholics for Mary, and their implacable hatred of Elizabeth;that, while it proved fatal to the life of one queen, has left on thememory of the other an indelible stain. It was a conspiracy of twozealous Catholics, to take the life of Elizabeth. The plot was revealedin confidence to Anthony Babington, a young gentleman of Derbyshire, possessing a large fortune and many amiable qualities, whom theArchbishop of Glasgow had recommended to the notice of Mary. Theconspirators, through treachery, were arrested, and it is said twoletters from Mary were found with Babington. This was a pretext torepresent these fanatics as the instruments of the captive queen. Determined that no circumstance of solemnity suited to the dignity ofthe person arraigned might be wanting, Elizabeth appointed, by acommission under the great seal, forty persons, the most illustrious inthe kingdom for their rank and birth, together with five judges, for thedecision of the cause. 

On October 11, 1586, the commissioners arrived at Fotheringay, whereMary was confined. She solemnly protested her innocence of the crimelaid to her charge, and having never countenanced any attempt againstthe life of Elizabeth, she refused to acknowledge the jurisdiction ofthe commissioners. "I came, " said she, "into the kingdom an independentsovereign, to implore the queen's assistance, not to subject myself toher authority. Nor is my spirit so broken by past misfortunes, orintimidated by present dangers, as to stoop to anything unbecoming themajesty of a crowned head, or that will disgrace the ancestors from whomI am descended, and the son to whom I shall leave my throne. "

Mary made her own defence; and her conduct before her judges displayedthe magnanimity of a heroine, tempered by the gentleness and modesty ofa woman. The judges were predetermined to find her guilty: the trial wasa mere pretence to give a sanction to their proceedings; they wereunanimous in declaring Mary "to be accessory to the conspiracy ofBabington, and to have imagined divers matters, tending to the hurt, death, and destruction of Elizabeth, contrary to the express words ofthe statute made for the security of the life of the queen. "

On Tuesday, February 7, 1587, the Earls of Shrewsbury and Kent arrivedat Fotheringay, and read in Mary's presence the warrant for herexecution, which was appointed for the ensuing day. "That soul, " saidMary, calmly crossing herself, "is unworthy the joys of heaven, whichrepines because the body must endure the stroke of the axe. I submitwillingly to the lot which heaven has decreed for me; though I did notexpect the Queen of England would set the first example of violating thesacred person of a sovereign prince. " Then laying her hand on a Bible, which happened to be near her, she solemnly protested her innocence. 

At the scaffold she prayed for the prosperity of her son, and for a longand peaceable reign to Elizabeth. She hoped for mercy, she declared, only through the death of Christ, at the foot of whose image shewillingly shed her blood. With intrepid calmness she laid her neck onthe block; her hands were held by one executioner, while the other, withtwo blows, dissevered her head from her body. "So perish all the enemiesof Elizabeth!" exclaimed the dean, as he held up the streaming head. "Amen, " answered the Earl of Kent alone; every other eye was drowned intears; every other voice was stifled in commiseration. Thus, after alife of forty-four years and two months, nineteen years of which hadbeen passed in captivity, perished the lovely and unfortunate Mary, Queen of Scots. 

CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH[12]

 [Footnote 12: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By MARION HARLAND

(1579-1631)

[Illustration: Captain John Smith. ]

Of the antecedents of John Smith, Esquire, Captain and Knight, little isrecorded beyond the facts that he was of gentle blood and honorablelineage, and that he was born in Lancashire, England, in 1579. 

He was still under age when he enlisted as a private soldier and foughtwith "our army" in Flanders. Sigismund Bathor, Duke of Transylvania, waswarring with the Turks, and young Smith, athirst for adventure, nexttook service under him. Before the Transylvanian town of Regall, hekilled three Turkish officers in single combat, for which doughty deedhe was knighted. The certificate of Sigismund's patent empowering theEnglishman to quarter three Turks' heads upon the family coat-of-arms isin the Herald's Office in London. 

The tables were turned by his subsequent capture by the Turks. He wassent to Tartary as a slave, not a prisoner of war, and compelled toperform the most ignoble tasks, until, escaping by killing his brutalmaster, he made his way by his wits to his native country in 1604. Hewas now twenty-five years of age, and emphatically a soldier of fortune. The tale of his prowess and adventures had preceded him, and he waseagerly welcomed in London by kindred spirits who were preparing toemigrate to America to form the colony of Virginia under the grant anddirect patronage of James I. By the time the enterprise was ripe forexecution, Smith had made himself so useful in counsel and preparationthat the king named him as one of the councillors of the prospectivecolony. 

The boundary lines of the royal grant were two hundred miles north, andthe same distance south, of the mouth of the James River, and east andwest "from sea to sea. "

On December 19, 1606, the band of adventurers, 100 in number, embarkedat Gravesend in three small vessels. Christopher Newport was in command, but Smith, and his close allies, Bartholomew Gosnold and George Percy, ayounger brother of the Duke of Northumberland, were the ruling spiritsof the voyagers. Carpenters and laborers were oddly jumbled upon thelist of emigrants with jewellers, perfumers, and gold refiners, and"gentlemen" held prominence in numbers and influence. The officersoutnumbered the privates. The little fleet was hardly out of the offingwhen the struggle for power began. The voyage was not half accomplishedwhen John Smith was charged with complicity in a discovered mutiny. Hehad intended, it was alleged, to murder his superiors, seize the fleet, and make himself king of Virginia. The "General History of Virginia"tells how serious an aspect the affair wore:

"Such factions here we had, as commonly attend such voyages, that apaire of gallowes was made, but Captain Smith, for whom they wereintended, _could not be persuaded to use them_. "

He was still under suspicion and arrest when the fleet anchored (May 13, 1607) in the broad river, Powhatan, to which the English explorers gavethe name of their king. Their first tents were pitched and first cabinsbuilt upon a low peninsula flanked by extensive marshes. The settlementreceived the name of Jamestown, in further demonstration of loyalty. 

When the king's sealed orders were opened, the name of John Smithappeared second upon the roll of seven councillors appointed to governthe infant colony. Next to him Gosnold was fittest for the responsibleposition assigned to them. His death within three months after thelanding, left Smith the object of the envious distrust of Wingfield, whohad been elected president, and virtually alone in the honest desire tofound a permanent settlement in Virginia for ends he thus sets forth:

"Erecting towns, peopling countries, informing the ignorant, reformingthings unjust, teaching virtue and gain to our native Mother Country. "

There is a prophetic ring in this remarkable utterance of one whom hiscontemporaries persisted in regarding as a reckless adventurer, ambitious and unscrupulous. His frank denunciation of the feeblemeasures of Wingfield and the selfish villainy of Ratcliffe, anothercolleague, had earned the ill-will of the president and the relentlesshatred of Ratcliffe. Smith, being under arrest, was not allowed to takehis place among the councillors. He bided the day of justice withpatience learned from adversity. When the supreme opportunity came hegrasped it. An attack from hostile Indians proved Wingfield's unfitnessfor the military command, and the alarmed colonists turned instinctivelyto the bravest of their number. Wingfield anticipated the uprising byreiterating his intention of sending Smith to England for trial, for thedouble crime of mutiny and treason. 

"The restive soldier suddenly flamed out. He would be tried in Virginiaas was his right--there was the charter! and the trial took place. Theresult was a ruinous commentary on the characters of Wingfield and thecouncil. The testimony of their own witnesses convicted them ofsubornation of perjury to destroy Smith. He was acquitted by the jury ofall the charges against him, and Kendall, who had conducted theprosecution, was condemned to pay him £200 damages. This sum waspresented by Smith to the colony for the general use, and then the foespartook of the commission, and the soldier was admitted to his seat inthe council. " (Cooke's "History of Virginia. ")

By autumn the settlement was fearfully reduced in numbers and spirits. Fever, engendered by marshland malaria and famine, threatened utterextinction. 

"From May to September, those who escaped lived upon sturgeon andsea-crabs; 50 in this time were buried, " writes one of the sufferers. "The rest, seeing the president's projects to escape these miseries inour pinnace by flight (who all this time had neither felt want orsickness), so moved our dead spirits as we deposed him and establishedRatcliffe in his place. "

It was an exchange of inefficiency for deliberate wickedness, and in theexcess of continued misery the more reasonable of the victims arose as aman and put Smith at the head of affairs. 

The "terrible summer" left hardly ten men who could wield axe or hoe. Smith himself was ill with malarial fever, yet nursed the sick, prayedwith the dying, and kept up the hearts of all by brave words and braveraction. He bought corn and meat of the Indians when they would sell, andwhen they refused, secured supplies by intimidation. Yet we find him, assoon as the immediate peril was over, again the subordinate of enviousleaders, and volunteering to satisfy malcontents in America and inEngland, by heading a party in mid-December to attempt the discovery ofthe great "South Sea, " for so long the _ignis fatuus_ of Westernadventurers. 

The explorers sailed up the James, diverging here and there into thetortuous creeks of the Chickahominy. When stopped by shallows, Smithprocured a canoe and Indian guides and pushed on with but two otherwhite men (Robinson and Emry) into the unknown wilderness, teeming withspies jealous of the foreign intruders. Attempting to land at"Powhatan, " one of "the emperor's" residences, he and his guide sankinto the morass and were fired upon from the shore. 

"The salvages . . . Followed him with 300 bowmen, led by the king ofPamunkee, who, searching the turnings of the river, found Robinson andEmry by the fire-side. These they shot full of arrowes and slew. "

Smith bound the Indian guide to his arm and used him as a shield, thussaving his own life. He was, however, captured, lashed to a tree, andwould have been killed, but for his address in presenting the KingOpecancanough with "a round ivory double compass Dyall"--his own pocketcompass--directing the attention of the "salvages" to the movement ofthe needle, and describing the uses of the instrument. 

"A month those Babarians kept him prisoner; many strange triumphes andconjurations they made of him, yet he so demeaned himself among them ashe not only diverted them from surprising the Fort, but procured his ownlibertie, and got himself and his company such estimation among themthat these Salvages admired him as a demi-god. "

From the pen of a contemporary we have the account of what led to his"libertie. " He had killed two of the attacking party, and was condemnedby Powhatan to die for the offence. 

[Illustration: Captain Smith saved by Pocahontas. ]

"Having feasted him after their best barbarous manner they could, a longconsultation was held; but the conclusion was, two great stones werebrought before Powhatan, then, as many as could lay hands on him, dragged him to them, and thereon laid his head, and being ready withtheir clubs to beate out his brains, Pocahontas, the king's dearestdaughter, when no entreaty could prevaile, got his head in her armes, and laid her owne upon his to save him from death; whereat the emperorwas contented he should live to make him hatchets, and her bells, beads, and copper. "

From other pages we get the stage-setting for this, the most dramaticincident in colonial history. 

The emperor had heard the evidence with a "sour look, " sitting in stateupon a rude dais, covered with mats, his body wrapped in a cloak ofraccoon skins. His dusky harem was grouped about him, watchful andinterested. When the trial was over he bade one wife to bring water towash the captive's hands, another a bunch of feathers to dry them upon. This was preliminary to the feast. 

"So fat they fed Mee, " says "A True Relation of Virginia, " published bySmith in 1608, "that I much doubted they intended to have sacrificed meeto the Quioughquosiche, which is a superiour power they worship. "

The appointment to the position of armorer in the royal household, andtrinket-maker to the princess, was one of honor. Smith enjoyed it for amonth only, but to his residence at Powhatan and intimacy withPocahontas, he was indebted for the familiarity with Indian language andcustoms which was afterward of incalculable benefit to the Virginians. He describes Pocahontas in respectful admiration:

"For features, countenance, and expression she much exceeded the rest. "

Her gala attire was a doeskin mantle lined with down from the breasts ofwood-pigeons; bangles of coral bound her brown ankles and wrists, and inher hair was a white heron's feather in token of her royal blood. At thetime of her rescue of Smith she was about thirteen years old. 

In January, 1608, the emperor offered Smith a forest principality if hewould remain with the tribe, but he petitioned to be allowed to returnto Jamestown. The request was reluctantly granted, and an escort sentwith him to the "Fort. " This returned, bearing gifts for Powhatan andhis wives, with marvellous stories of the cannon-shot fired into thesleety forest at Smith's command. We cannot but wonder what toy orornament went to the petted child whom he had served in glad gratitudewhile a member of her father's household. 

He had no time for sentimental musings. Upon the very day of hisunlooked for return (January 8, 1608), Ratcliffe repeated Wingfield'sattempt to escape to England in the only vessel left at Jamestown. Theanchor was actually raised when Smith hastily collected a force andhurried to the landing. "With the hazzard of his life, with sakre, falcon, and musket shot, Smith forced" (them) "now the third time tostay or sinke. "

In their sullen rage the foiled conspirators plotted and nearly executeda fiendish revenge. Once more we copy from the "General History, "written by Smith and his friends. 

"Some no better than they should be, had plotted with the president"(Ratcliffe) "the next day to have put him" (Smith) "to death by theLeviticall law for the lives of Robinson and Emry, pretending the faultwas his that had led them to their ends; but he quickly took such orderwith such lawyers that he layd them by the heeles till he sent some ofthem prisoners to England. "

The colony was almost destitute of food, and the memories of the famineof last year terrified the imaginations of those who had lived throughit. "Gentlemen" having again predominated in reinforcements sent fromEngland, the crops planted and gathered in Smith's absence had beenmeagre, while rats brought over in one of the vessels had wrought havocwith stored grain. Like an angel of mercy was the apparition ofPocahontas, at the head of a "wild train" of Indians laden with corn andgame, approaching the fort. "Ever once in four or five days during thetime of two or three years, " the young princess, thus attended, visitedthe fort and succored the needy settlers. Smith declares that "nextunder God she preserved the colony from death, famine, and utterconfusion. " He might have subjoined that, but for himself, not evenPocahontas's bounty could have saved the settlement from theconsequences of misconduct and misrule. 

His was the only voice lifted to condemn the mad folly of loading ahomeward-bound vessel with the glittering mud of a neighboring creek. That he was "not enamored of their dirty skill to freight such a drunkenship with so much gilded dirt"--was one of the mildest of his phrases, as, "breathing out these and many other passions, " he harangued thosewho had "no thought, no discourse, no hope, and no work but to dig gold, wash gold, refine gold, and load gold. "

Before the English assayers confirmed his judgment as to the value ofthis cargo, the intrepid adventurer had sailed, with fourteen others, upthe Chesapeake into new and wonderful regions. Never losing heart, evenwhen he believed himself to be dying from the sting of a poisonous fish, he discovered and entered the Potomac, the Rappahannock, and tributarycreeks, fighting his way when not allowed to proceed peaceably. In July(1608) he led another party to the spot now occupied by the city ofBaltimore, and made friends with a tribe called Susquehannocks, believedto be sun-worshippers. Returning from these voyages of three thousandmiles in all, he drew in masterly style a chart of the countriesexplored, and sent it to England. 

Jamestown was still in a state of what he calls "combustion, " under thetyranny of Ratcliffe. Emboldened by Smith's return, the colonistsdeposed the hated governor, and formally elected Smith Governor ofVirginia. The winter closed in upon an "affrighted" population. Storehouses were nearly empty, agriculture having been neglected in thegold fever. As Smith could not be "persuaded to use" the gallows, so henow announced that "no persuasion could persuade _him_ to starve. " Incompany with George Percy and fifty others, he visited his old allyPowhatan, and tried to buy food. A change had come to the emperor'sheart. He addressed his quondam armorer as a "rash youth;" protestedthat he was afraid of him, and would not treat with the English unlessthey came to him unarmed. Warned by Pocahontas, who stole through thewoods after dark to apprise Smith that treachery was intended, theparty lay on their arms all night, and the force sent to surprise themretreated. Next day, Powhatan loaded the boats with corn, and Smithsailed up the York upon a similar errand to Opecancanough, Powhatan'sbrother. While in audience with him, the Englishmen were surrounded by aband of seven hundred armed savages. Seizing the wily chieftain by thescalp-lock, Smith held a pistol to his breast, and demanded a cargo ofcorn and safe-conduct for his party to Jamestown. The fifty men, withoutloss of a single life, took back enough food to victual the town. 

Early in the spring of 1609, the president thus made known his policy tohis constituents:

"Countrymen! You see now that power resteth wholly in myself. You mustobey this now for a law--_he that will not work shall not eat_. Andthough you presume that authority here is but a shadow and that I darenot touch the lives of any, but my own must answer for it, yet he thatoffendeth, let him assuredly expect his due punishment. 

"I protest by that God that made me, since necessity hath no power toforce you to gather for yourselves, you shall not only gather foryourselves, but for those that are sick. _They_ shall not starve. "

Fields were tilled, the fort was repaired, wise Powhatan treated thepale-faces kindly for Smith's sake, and the emigrants felt for the firsttime firm ground beneath their feet. They had twenty-four pieces ofordnance, and three hundred stand of small-arms; three ships, sevenboats, a store of more than two months' provisions, six hundred hogs, with goats, fowls, and sheep, and an established trading-station withthe natives. 

Like an aërolite from the summer sky came news from England that a fleetwas to be sent out with a new colony, a new charter, and new officers;Smith's old enemy, Christopher Newport, was in command of theexpedition. Smith had been complained of at home as "dealing harshlywith the natives and not returning the ships full-freighted. " His daywas over. The king so willed it. 

Smith's last official act was the establishment of a colony at Powhatan, renamed "Nonsuch, " opposite where the city of Richmond was laid out overa century later. On his way back to Jamestown, he was cruelly wounded bythe explosion of a bag of gunpowder. There was no good surgeon in thecolony. To return forthwith to England was but anticipating by a fewweeks what must be when the fleet arrived. 

He returned to London at the age of thirty. "He had broke the ice andbeat the path, but had not there" (in Virginia) "one foot of ground, northe very house he builded, nor the ground he digged with his own hands. "

In 1614 he returned to America, but now to the northern region assignedto the Plymouth Company. He gave name to Boston; explored and made asurvey of the New England coast. On a second voyage he had a fight witha French squadron, was captured, and taken to Rochelle. While there hewrote a "Description of New England, " for which service James I. Appointed him "Admiral of New England. " He died in London, in 1631, atthe age of fifty-two, never having revisited Virginia. Upon his tomb, inthe Church of St. Sepulchre's, London, may be still traced the outlinesof the Three Turks' Heads and the inscription, beginning:

 "_Here lies one conquered that hath conquered kings. _"

Any sketch of his life, however brief, would be incomplete thatcontained no reference to the letter written by him to Queen Anne (theconsort of James I. ), in 1616, recommending the Lady Rebecca Rolfe tothe royal favor. 

He would "be guilty of the deadly poison of ingratitude, " he wrote, ifhe failed to narrate what he and the colony at Jamestown owed toPocahontas. He besought the queen's kindly consideration for thestranger just landed upon her shores, as due to Pocahontas's "greatspirit, her desert, birth, want, and simplicity. " His one call upon thewife of John Rolfe, Gentleman, was marked by profound respect on hispart to one whom he accosted as "Lady Rebecca;" by profound emotion onhers. 

John Smith's biography and epitaph are best summed up by one of hisbrothers-in-arms:

 "What shall I saye, but thus we lost him that in all his proceedings made justice his first guide and experience his second, ever hating basenesse, sloth, pride, and indignitie more than any dangers; that never allowed more for himself than for his soldiers with him; that upon no danger would send them where he would not lead them himselfe; that would never see us want what he either had or could by any means get us; that would rather want than borrow, or starve than not pay; that loved action more than wordes, and hated falsehood and covetousnesse worse than death; whose adventures were our lives and whose losse our deaths. "

[Signature: Marion Harland. ]

WILLIAM HARVEY

(1578-1657)

William Harvey was born on April 1, 1578, at Folkestone, on the southerncoast of Kent. He was the eldest of nine children; of the rest littlemore is known, than that several of the brothers were among the mosteminent merchants in the city of London during the reigns of the twofirst Stuarts. His father, Thomas Harvey, followed no profession. Hemarried Joanna Falke, at the age of twenty, and lived upon his ownestate at Folkestone. This property devolved by inheritance upon hiseldest son; and the greater part of it was eventually bequeathed by himto the college at which he was educated. 

At ten years of age he commenced his studies at the grammar school inCanterbury; and upon May 31, 1593, soon after the completion of hisfifteenth year, was admitted as a pensioner at Caius College, Cambridge. 

[Illustration: William Harvey. ]

At that time a familiar acquaintance with logic and the learnedlanguages was indispensable as a first step in the prosecution of allthe branches of science, especially of medicine; and the skill withwhich Harvey avails himself of the scholastic form of reasoning in hisgreat work on the Circulation, with the elegant Latin style of all hiswritings, particularly of his latest work on the Generation of Animals, affords a sufficient proof of his diligence in the prosecution of thesepreliminary studies during the next four years which he spent atCambridge. The two next were occupied in visiting the principal citiesand seminaries of the Continent. He then prepared to address himself tothose investigations to which the rest of his life was devoted; and thescene of his introduction to them could not have been better chosen thanat the University of Padua, where he became a student in histwenty-second year. 

The ancient physicians gathered what they knew of anatomy frominaccurate dissections of the lower animals, and the slender knowledgethus acquired, however inadequate to unfold the complicated functions ofthe human frame, was abundantly sufficient as a basis for conjecture, ofwhich they took full advantage. With them everything became easy toexplain, precisely because nothing was understood; and the nature andtreatment of disease, the great object of medicine, and its subsidiarysciences, was hardily abandoned to the conduct of the imagination, andsought for literally among the stars. Nevertheless, so firmly was theirauthority established, that even down to the close of the sixteenthcentury the naturalists of Europe still continued to derive all theirphysiology, and the greater part of their anatomy and medicine, from theworks of Aristotle and Galen, read not in the original Greek, butre-translated into Latin from the interpolated versions of the Arabianphysicians. The opinions entertained by these dictators in the republicof letters, and consequently by their submissive followers, with regardto the structure and functions of the organs concerned in thecirculation, were particularly fanciful and confused; so much so that itwould be no easy task to give an intelligible account of them that wouldnot be tedious from its length. It will be enough to say, that ascarcely more oppressive mass of mischievous error was cleared away fromthe science of astronomy by the discovery of Newton, than that fromwhich physiology was disencumbered by the discovery of Harvey. 

But though the work was completed by an Englishman, it is to Italy that, in anatomy, as in most of the sciences, we owe the first attempts tocast off the thralldom of the ancients. Mundinus had published a workin the year 1315, which contained a few original observations of hisown; and his essay was so well received that it remained the text-bookof the Italian schools of anatomy for upward of two centuries. It wasenriched from time to time by various annotators, among the chief ofwhom were Achillini, and Berengarius, the first person who publishedanatomical plates. But the great reformer of anatomy was Vesalius, who, born at Brussels in 1514, had attained such early celebrity during hisstudies at Paris and Louvain, that he was invited by the Republic ofVenice, in his twenty-second year, to the chair of anatomy at Padua, which he filled for seven years with the highest reputation. He alsotaught at Bologna, and subsequently, by the invitation of Cosmo de'Medici, at Pisa. The first edition of his work, "De Corporis HumaniFabrica" was printed at Basle, in the year 1543; it is perhaps one ofthe most successful efforts of human industry and research, and from thedate of its publication begins an entirely new era in the science ofwhich it treats. The despotic sway hitherto maintained in the schools ofmedicine by the writings of Aristotle and Galen was now shaken to itsfoundation, and a new race of anatomists eagerly pressed forward in thepath of discovery. Among these no one was more conspicuous thanFallopius, the disciple, successor, and in fame the rival, of Vesalius, at Padua. After him the anatomical professorship was filled by Fabriciusab Aquapendente, the last of the distinguished anatomists who flourishedat Padua in the sixteenth century. 

Harvey became his pupil in 1599, and from this time he appears to haveapplied himself seriously to the study of anatomy. The first germ of thediscovery which has shed immortal honor on his name and country wasconceived in the lecture-room of Fabricius. 

He remained at Padua for two years; and having received the Degree ofDoctor of Arts and Medicine, with unusual marks of distinction, returnedto England early in the year 1602. Two years afterward he commencedpractice in London and married the daughter of Dr. Launcelot Browne, bywhom he had no children. He became a Fellow of the College ofPhysicians, when about thirty years of age, having in the meantimerenewed his degree of Doctor in Medicine, at Cambridge; and was soonafter elected Physician to St. Bartholomew's Hospital, which office heretained till a late period of his life. 

On August 4, 1615, he was appointed Reader of Anatomy and Surgery to theCollege of Physicians. From some scattered hints in his writings itappears that his doctrine of the circulation was first advanced in hislectures at the college about four years afterward; and a note-book inhis own hand-writing is still preserved at the British Museum, in whichthe principal arguments by which it is substantiated are briefly setdown, as if for reference in the lecture-room. Yet with thecharacteristic caution and modesty of true genius, he continued for nineyears longer to reason and experimentalize upon what is now consideredone of the simplest, as it is undoubtedly the most important known lawof animal nature; and it was not till the year 1628, the fifty-first ofhis life, that he consented to publish his discovery to the world. 

In that year the "Exercitatio Anatomica de Motu Cordis et Sanguinis" waspublished at Frankfort. This masterly treatise begins with a shortoutline and refutation of the opinions of former anatomists on themovement of the animal fluids and the function of the heart; the authordiscriminating with care, and anxiously acknowledging the glimpses ofthe truth to be met with in their writings; as if he had not only keptin mind the justice due to previous discoveries, and the prudence ofsoftening the novelty and veiling the extent of his own, but hadforeseen the preposterous imputation of plagiarism, which, with otherinconsistent charges, was afterward brought forward against him. Thisshort sketch is followed by a plain exposition of the anatomy of thecirculation, and a detail of the results of numerous experiments; andthe new theory is finally maintained in a strain of close and powerfulreasoning, and followed into some of its most important consequences. The whole argument is conducted in simple and unpretending language, with great perspicuity, and scrupulous attention to logical form. 

The doctrine announced by Harvey may be briefly stated thus: The bloodcirculates through the body, thereby sustaining life. The heart issimply the pump which drives the blood through the arteries, from whenceit returns impure, and is then forced through the lungs and repurified. 

The pulmonary circulation had been surmised by Galen, and maintained byhis successors; but no proof even of this insulated portion of thetruth, more than amounted to strong probability, had been given till thetime of Harvey, and no plausible claim to the discovery, still less tothe demonstration, of the general circulation has ever been set up inopposition to his. Indeed, its truth was quite inconsistent with theideas everywhere entertained in the schools on the functions of theheart and other viscera, and was destructive of many favorite theories. The new doctrine, therefore, as may well be supposed, was received bymost of the anatomists of the period with distrust, and by all withsurprise. Some of them undertook to refute it, but their objectionsturned principally on the silence of Galen, or consisted of the mostfrivolous cavils; the controversy, too, assumed the form of personalabuse even more speedily than is usually the case when authority is atissue with reason. To such opposition Harvey for some time did not thinkit necessary to reply; but some of his friends in England, and of theadherents to his doctrine on the Continent, warmly took up his defence. At length he was induced to take a personal share in the dispute inanswer to Riolanus, a Parisian anatomist of some celebrity, whoseobjections were distinguished by some show of philosophy, and unusualabstinence from abuse. The answer was conciliatory and complete, butineffectual to produce conviction; and in reply to Harvey's appeal todirect experiment, his opponent urged nothing but conjecture andassertion. Harvey once more rejoined at a considerable length; takingoccasion to give a spirited rebuke to the unworthy reception he had metwith, in which it seems that Riolanus had now permitted himself to join;adducing several new and conclusive experiments in support of histheory; and entering at large upon its value in simplifying physiologyand the study of diseases, with other interesting collateral topics. Riolanus, however, still remained unconvinced; and his second rejoinderwas treated by Harvey with contemptuous silence. He had alreadyexhausted the subject in the two excellent controversial pieces justmentioned, the last of which is said to have been written at Oxfordabout 1645; and he never resumed the discussion in print. Time had nowcome to the assistance of argument, and his discovery began to begenerally admitted. To this, indeed, his opponents contributed, by astill more singular discovery of their own, namely, that the facts hadbeen observed, and the important inference drawn, long before. This wasthe mere allegation of envy, chafed at the achievements of another, which, from their apparent facility, might have been its own. It isindeed strange that the simple mechanism thus explained should have beenunobserved or misunderstood so long; and nothing can account for it butthe imperceptible lightness as well as the strength of the chains whichauthority imposes on the mind. 

In the year 1623 Harvey became physician extraordinary to James I. , andseven years later was appointed physician to Charles. He followed thefortunes of that monarch, who treated him with great distinction duringthe first years of the civil war, and he was present at the battle ofEdgehill, in 1642. Having been incorporated doctor of physic by theUniversity of Oxford, he was promoted by Charles to the wardenship ofMerton College, in 1645; but he did not retain this office very long, his predecessor, Dr. Brent, being reinstated by the Parliament after thesurrender of Oxford in the following year. 

Harvey then returned to London, and resided with his brother Eliat atCockaine house, in the Poultry. About the time of Charles's execution hegave up his practice, which had never been considerable, probably inconsequence of his devotion to the scientific, rather than thepractical, parts of his profession. He himself, however, attributed hiswant of success to the enmity excited by his discovery. After a secondvisit to the Continent, he secluded himself in the country, sometimes athis own house in Lambeth, and sometimes with his brother Eliat at Combe, in Surrey. Here he was visited by his friend, Dr. Ent, in 1651, by whomhe was persuaded to allow the publication of his work on the "Generationof Animals. " It was the fruit of many years of experiment andmeditation; and, though the vehicle of no remarkable discovery, isreplete with interest and research, and contains passages of brilliantand even poetical eloquence. The object of his work is to trace the germthrough all its changes to the period of maturity; and the illustrationsare principally drawn from the phenomena exhibited by eggs in theprocess of incubation, which he watched with great care, and hasdescribed with minuteness and fidelity. The microscope had not at thattime the perfection it has since attained; and consequently Harvey'saccount of the first appearance of the chick is somewhat inaccurate, andhas been superseded by the observations of Malpighi, Hunter, and others. The experiments upon which he chiefly relied in this department ofnatural history had been repeated in the presence of Charles I. , whoappears to have taken great interest in the studies of his physician. 

[Illustration: Harvey demonstrating the Circulation of the Blood. ]

In the year 1653, the seventy-fifth of his life, Harvey presented theCollege of Physicians with the title-deed of a building erected in theirgarden, and elegantly fitted up, at his expense, with a library andmuseum, and commodious apartments for their social meetings. Upon thisoccasion he resigned the professorship of anatomy, which he had held fornearly forty years, and was succeeded by Dr. Glisson. 

In 1654 he was elected to the presidency of the college, which hedeclined on the plea of age; and the former president, Sir FrancisPrujean, was re-elected at his request. Two years afterward he made adonation to the college of a part of his patrimonial estate, to theyearly value of £56, as a provision for the maintenance of the library, and the annual festival and oration in commemoration of benefactors. 

At length his constitution, which had long been harassed by the gout, yielded to the increasing infirmities of age, and he died in hiseightieth year, on June 3, 1657. He was buried at Hempstead, in Essex, in a vault belonging to his brother Eliat, who was his principal heir, and his remains were followed to the grave by a numerous procession ofthe body of which he had been so illustrious and munificent a member. 

In person he was below the middle size, but well proportioned. He had adark complexion, black hair, and small, lively eyes. In his youth histemper is said to have been very hasty. If so, he was cured of thisdefect as he grew older; for nothing can be more courteous and temperatethan his controversial writings; and the genuine kindness and modestywhich were conspicuous in all his dealings with others, with hisinstructive conversation, gained him many attached and excellentfriends. He was fond of meditation and retirement; and there is much inhis works to characterize him as a man of warm and unaffected piety. 

PRINCE CHARLES STUART[13]

 [Footnote 13: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By ANDREW LANG, LL. D. 

(1720-1788)

Charles Edward Stuart, called the "Young Pretender" by his enemies, the"Young Chevalier" by neutrals, "Prince of Wales" and "Prince Regent" byhis partisans, "Prince Edouard" by the French, "Ned" by his intimates, as we read in letters of Oliphant of Gask, and "Prince Charlie" by latergenerations, was born at Rome, December 31, 1720. His father was JamesVIII. , of Scotland, and III. Of England, according to the Legitimisttheory; his foes called him "The Pretender, " partly on the strength ofthe old fable about the warming-pan, so useful to the Whigs. No saneperson now doubts the genuineness of James' descent from James II. , butthe nickname of Pretender still sticks, though Boswell tells us thatGeorge III. Particularly disliked an appellation which "may beparliamentary, but is not gentlemanly. " James III. , or the Chevalier deSt. George, was taken up by Louis XIV. On the death of James II. , inFrance. He is said to have displayed courage in several battles inFlanders, but his attempt to assert his rights in 1715 was a melancholyfailure. James showed melancholy and want of confidence; he soon leftScotland for the Continent, and the best that can be said for hisconduct is that he endeavored to compensate the peasants whose houseswere destroyed in the military operations of "the Fifteen. " Unable toreside in France, he retired to Rome, a pensioner of the Pope, andentertained with royal honors. In 1719 he married Clementina Sobieski, agranddaughter of the famous John Sobieski, who delivered Europe from theTurks. Their eldest son, Prince Charles, appears to have inherited thespirit and daring of his Polish ancestors, which animated him throughouthis youth, and were extinguished less by Culloden than by the treatmentwhich he received from the French court, by his imprisonment inVincennes in 1748, and by the unrelenting animosity of the EnglishGovernment, which made him a homeless exile living mysteriously inhiding on the Continent. Heart-broken by these misfortunes and by otherdisappointments, Charles developed an unreasoning and sullen obstinacy, which alienated his adherents, while the habit of heavy drinking, learned in his Highland distresses, ruined his head and heart, andconverted the most gallant, gay, and promising of princes into a brutaldipsomaniac. 

[Illustration: Prince Charles Stuart. ]

The education of Charles was casual and interrupted. Now he was in thehands of Protestants, now of Catholic governors and tutors, as theadvice of English adherents, or the wishes of his devout mother, chancedto prevail. There were frequent quarrels between James and his wife, turning partly on the question of education, more on the jealousy whichthe queen conceived of the Countess of Inverness. The Pope sided withthe queen in these melancholy broils, and James's private life (whichwas not faultless) was much more subject to criticism and interferencethan that of his at least equally lax rival on the English throne. Asecond son, Henry Benedict, Duke of York, was born in 1725, and, at onetime, was regarded as of more martial disposition than Prince Charles. As the elder, Charles was first under fire, and at the siege of Gaeta, in 1734, while a mere boy, he displayed coolness, daring, and contemptof danger. Young Henry, aged nine, "was so much discontented at beingrefused the partnership of that glory and that danger, that he would notput on his sword till his father threatened to take away his gartertoo, " says Murray of Broughton, in a letter dated 1742. In later lifethe Duke of York showed no military aptitude. A kind of progress whichCharles made through the cities of Italy, aroused his desire to be aprince in more than name. The English Government quarrelled with theRepublic of Venice about the royal honors paid to the prince, and hisambition was awakened. His education, we have said, was very imperfect. Murray of Broughton, indeed, credits him with Latin, Greek, history, andphilosophy. But his spelling in both French and English was unusuallybad, even in an age of free spelling; he wrote _époles_ for _epaules_, "Gems" for "James, " "sord" for "sword. " He did not neglect physicalexercise; was wont to make long marches without stockings, to harden hisfeet (as he told a follower during his Highland distresses). He was agood shot, fond of hunting, and, about 1742, was probably the first manwho ever played golf in Italy. Murray describes him as "tall above thecommon stature, his limbs cast in the most exact mould, his complexionof an uncommon delicacy, all his features perfectly regular and wellturned, and his eyes the finest I ever saw. " Whether they were blue orhazel is undecided; they are hazel in at least one contemporaryportrait. As a boy, engravings show him pretty, merry, and buoyant; anair of melancholy may be remarked as early as 1744. With brightnut-brown hair, golden in the sun, and worn long beneath his peruke, hecertainly justified the endearing name of "Bonny Prince Charlie. " Thedistinction of his air could be concealed by no disguise, as hisfollowers loved fondly to declare. He certainly had the royal memory forfaces. At the opera, in 1773, he noticed an English officer opposite, whom he sent for. The gentleman visited the royal box, accompanied by aScotch servant. "I have seen you before, " said Charles to this man. "Youonce brought me a message at Falkirk, in 1746. "

Such was Prince Charles when, in 1742, Murray of Broughton becameacquainted with the royal exile in Rome, and was appointed secretary forScotland. With Lochiel and others, Murray formed a Jacobite associationin his native country. Negotiations were begun with the French court, which hung off and on, as did the English Jacobites. They would rise, ifFrance supplied men, money, and arms. France would do this ifsufficiently assured of support in England. The king had no enthusiasmfor the enterprise. He was weary of promises and of leaning on thatbroken reed, Louis XV. Murray intrigued in Scotland, Lord Elcho inEngland, Kelly at the French court. Lord Semple confused all by falsehopes; Charles was much in the hands of Irishmen--Sheridan, Sullivan, O'Brien, and O'Neil; already a "forward, " or Prince's party was growing, as opposed to the waiting policy and party of the disheartened andunambitious James. To what extent English Jacobites were pledged isuncertain. There was much discontent with the Hanoverian dynasty inEngland, but the dread of popery was strong among the middle classes. The butchers were advised that Catholics ate no meat on Sundays, theofficial clergy preached Protestant sermons, the Jacobite gentry fearedfor their lives and estates in case of failure, and the sagacity of theGovernment has never revealed the extent to which the Duke of Beaufortand others were committed to King James. The universities, the sportingsquires, and the smugglers drank to "The king over the water, " but thereenthusiasm began and ended. 

More was expected, and till assured of more, France held aloof, whilemaking promises enough. Even the Highland chiefs said that without aFrench army nothing could be done. In 1744 Charles left Rome, underpretext of a hunting party, concealed his withdrawal with great skill, and reached Paris. He was obliged, however, to be incognito and was notreceived by the king. An invading force was crowded on board ship. Thechance seemed excellent, England's forces being mainly abroad; but theold friends of England, the winds, drove the battered fleet back intoharbor, and Charles in vain tried to persuade the Earl Marischal toaccompany him to Scotland in a small fishing vessel. 

One result followed the reception of Charles by France, niggardly asthat reception was--war with England broke out, and the French army ofinvasion was moved from Dunkirk to Flanders. The prince, not permittedto serve in the French army, returned to Paris, where he had beenfalsely assured by Semple and Æneas Macdonald that England was ready torise for him. Murray, who visited him in Paris, tried to dissuade himfrom a wild venture; in Scotland he found the chiefs of his own opinion, but the letter carrying the news never reached the prince. His Irishfriends urged him on; "the expedition was entirely an Irish project. " Heborrowed money from his bankers, the Waters, he pawned his share of theSobieski jewels, and, with a privateer man-of-war and a brig, LaDoutelle, he left Belleisle on July 13, 1745. Neither the French courtnor his father knew that, attended only by seven men, "The Seven Men ofMoidart, " he had set out to seek for a crown. The day before he embarkedhe wrote to James; he said that no man would buy a horse, nor trust aprince, that showed no spirit. "I never intend to come back, " he added. So, dressed as a student of the Scots College, he started. He lost hisconvoy, the Elizabeth, on the way, after a drawn battle with the Lion(Captain Brett). Resisting all advice to turn back, as Æneas Macdonald, who accompanied him, narrates, he held on in La Doutelle, and reachedErisca, an islet between Barra and South Uist, on August 2, 1745. Aneagle hovered over his ship, and Tullibardine hailed the royal bird as ahappy omen. But he found himself unwelcome. Boisdale bade him go home;"I _am_ at home, " said the prince. He steered for Moidart, the mostbeautiful but the wildest shore of Scotland, a region of steep andserrated mountains, of long salt-water straits, winding beneath thebases of the hills, and of great fresh-water lochs. Loch Nahuagh was hisport; here he received Clan Ranald, whose desolate keep, Castle Tirrim, stands yet in ruins, since "the Fifteen. " Glenaladale (whose descendantsyet hold their barren acres), Dalilea, and Kinlochmoidart (now, likeClan Ranald, landless men) met him with discouraging words. But, seeinga flash in the eyes of a young Macdonald, of Kinlochmoidart, Charlessaid, "You will not forsake me?" "I will follow you to death, were noother sword drawn in your cause. "

The chiefs caught fire, Charles landed, with the seven men ofMoidart--Æneas Macdonald, the Judas of the cause; the Duke of Athol(Tullibardine), who had been out in the fifteen; Sheridan, the prince'stutor; Sir John Macdonald; Kelley, a parson who had been in Atterbury'saffair; Strickland, an Englishman; and Buchanan. Young Lochiel wasdisinclined to join, but yielded to the fascination of the prince. Withhis accession the rising was a certainty. But Duncan Forbes of Culloden, the lord president, had influence enough to hold back the Macleods ofSkye, to paralyze the shifty Lovat, and to secure the Sutherland housefor the Hanoverian cause. Charles left Boisdale for Kinlochmoidart, "thehead of Loch Moidart, " where an avenue of trees, the prince's walk, isstill shown, though the old house was burned after Culloden. Keppoch cutoff a small party of Scots Royal; this was first blood for the Jacobitecause. The wounded were hospitably treated by Lochiel; the Englishcaptain was released on parole. Charles now crossed the steep hillsbetween Kinlochmoidart and the long narrow lake of Loch Sheil, there hetook boat, and rowed past the lands of Glenaladale and Dalilea toGlenfinnan, where Tullibardine raised the standard, inscribed _TandemTriumphans_. A statue of the prince, gazing southward, now marks thespot. The clans came in, and as Charles marched southeast, each glensent down its warriors to join the stream. The clansmen, as a rule, hadprobably little knowledge of or interest in the cause. They followedtheir chiefs. The surviving Gaelic poetry speaks much of the chieftains;of _Tearlach, righ nan Gael_, but little is said. It was the middle ofAugust before the rulers of England received the news of the landing. They at once set a reward of £30, 000 on Charles's head, a proceeding"unusual among Christian princes, " said Charles, who was compelled byhis forces, and their threats of desertion, to follow the evil example. Sir John Cope was sent with an English army to stop the prince. Itappeared likely that the armies would meet about Dalwhinnie, now thehighest and bleakest part of the Highland Railway. The path then ledover Corryarrack; Charles and his men raced for the summit, but Cope wasnot to be seen. He had marched east and north, to Inverness, and all thesouth of Scotland lay open to the prince. He passed by Killiecrankie andBlair Athol to Perth; Cluny came in, with the Duke of Perth, and LordGeorge Murray, Charles's most skilled general, who had been out atGlensheil, in 1719, and had learned the lesson of war in the Sardinianarmy. How easily he won Edinburgh, how he held court at Holyrood, how herouted Cope (who returned by sea) at Preston Pans or Gladsmuir, isfamiliar to all. His clemency was conspicuous; he wrote to James that hewould give up Holyrood to the wounded, rather than see them homeless. Home, a Whig volunteer, and the author of a Whiggish history, acknowledges the nobility of his conduct, and his "foolish lenity" (hewould not permit the execution of several persons who tried toassassinate him) is blamed by the fanatics who, in 1749, issued a wildCameronian manifesto, "The Active Testimonies of Presbyterians. " Thecontrast with the savage brutalities of Cumberland is very notable. Inthe battle the chiefs refused to let Charles lead the charge, but he wasat the head of the second line, "a pistol shot behind" the first. Preston Pans was fought on September 21, 1745. That Charles dalliedbefore Edinburgh Castle till October 21st was no fault of his. Some ofhis men had gone home with booty, others were to be waited for, many ofthe chiefs were in favor of holding Scotland under James as a separatekingdom, and it was only by constant personal appeals that the princepersuaded them to push south. Lord George's strategy deceived theEnglish, who knew not where to look for the Highlanders. They met atCarlisle, took it, passed through Preston and Manchester, gaveCumberland the slip, and their advanced posts, six miles south of Derby, were within a hundred and twenty miles of London. The army of Finchleywas unlikely to make a stand, the city was partly Jacobite, the mob wereready for anything, when Lord George and the chiefs insisted on retreat. Historians doubt which policy was the wiser; it is certain that success, if to be attained at all, could only be won by audacity. The chiefs, however, declared for a return and a junction with French forces thenexpected. Charles wept and prayed to no avail. His army, as disappointedas himself, found their faces set to the north, and the prince, who hadever walked among the first ranks, leaving his carriage to old LordPitsligo, now rode dejected and heart-broken. The retreat was rapid andable. At Clifton, Murray turned on the pursuing dragoons, headed aclaymore charge, and drove them back. A hapless garrison of Lancashirevolunteers was left to the tender mercies of Cumberland in Carlisle, andCharles went by way of Whiggish Dumfries (the house where he lodged isnow an inn) to Glasgow. To all intents and purposes the end had come. Charles had lost faith in the advisers who dragged him back from thesouth, he listened to Murray of Broughton and to his Irishry; hesuspected, unjustly but not unnaturally, the good faith of Lord George. He dallied at Stirling, besieging the castle without proper artillery, and Hawley was sent to attack him. On January 17, 1746, the armies metat Falkirk. A storm of wind and rain blew at the backs of theHighlanders, they charged, scattered the enemy, drove them in flight, and cut up the Glasgow volunteers. But, in the dark and the mist theyscarcely knew their own advantage. The pipers had thrown their pipes totheir boys, had gone in with the claymore, and could not sound thecalls. Hawley wrote to Cumberland "My heart is broke . . . I got off butthree cannon of the ten. " Hawley retreated to Edinburgh, the Duke ofCumberland came to take the command; the Highlanders began to desertwith their booty, dissensions prevailed, and Charles went on besiegingStirling. Again Lord George Murray urged a retreat, Charles dashed hishead in impotent rage against the wall of his room, but he had tofollow. With perfect truth he said:

"I cannot see anything but ruin and destruction to us all in case weshould think of a retreat;" his forces in flight would lose heart, hisenemies would gain confidence. All this was true, but all this wasunavailing. Months were spent in unimportant movements. Cumberland, meanwhile, instructed his men in the method of meeting a Highlandcharge, and deceiving the parry of the Highland shields. It was knownthat France would lend no substantial aid, and a French subsidy of30, 000 _Louis d'or_ came too late, after the battle of Culloden, and wasburied at the head of Loch Arkaig. One last chance Charles had: LordGeorge proposed, and Charles eagerly seconded, a night surprise atNairn. But the delays on the march, and the arrival of dawn, made Murraycommand a retreat, and Charles's faith in him was irretrievably gone forthe time, though he later expressed in writing a more worthy opinion. With 10, 000 well-fed men against 5, 000 who were starving, Cumberland hadevery chance of victory at Culloden. The Macdonalds, placed on the leftwing, would not charge. Keppoch's men were discontented because theywere not allowed to have a Catholic chaplain. Crying out, "The childrenof my clan have forsaken me, " Keppoch charged alone, and died the deathof renown. Beaten and blinded by a storm of snow in their faces, theHighland right clove the ranks of Monro and Burrell, only to fall, inlayers three or four deep, before the fire of Sempill's regiment in thesecond line. The whole English force advanced; Charles rode to hissecond line, and offered to charge with them. His officers told him thatit was in vain; Highlanders once beaten would not rally. (MS. "Lyon inMourning, " and MS. Of Stuart Threipland at Abbotsford. ) Charles washurried off the field by his Irish tutor, and fled to Lord Lovat's, atGortuleg. A story of his lack of courage, told by Sir Walter Scott onthe authority of Sir James Stewart Denham's recollections of LordElcho's MS. , is erroneous. Lord Elcho's MS. Does not contain thestatement. What he objects to is Charles's refusal to meet the fragmentsof his army at Ruthven, in Badenoch, whence they hoped to wage aguerilla warfare. Lord George Murray himself admits that the project wasimpossible. Charles, however, should have gone to Ruthven, but hedistrusted Lord George; and his hope of a speedy voyage to France, wherehe expected to receive aid in men and money, was frustrated. 

It is needless to repeat the tale of Cumberland's almost incrediblebutcheries, cruelties, and robberies, or to tell of the executionsaccompanied by the torture of disembowelling the living man. The storyof Charles's wanderings and distresses is narrated best in the MS. "Lyonin Mourning, " partly printed by Robert Chambers, in "Jacobite Memoirs. "No words can overpraise the loyalty of the starving Highlanders; neitherEnglish tortures, nor the promise of £30, 000, ever moved one man orwoman from their constant faith. Only one hungry boy whom Charles hadfed, attempted to betray him, but was not believed. As for the prince, he is briefly described by a companion as "the most prudent man not tobe a coward, the most daring not to be foolhardy, whom he had everknown. " He showed a constant gayety, singing and telling tales tohearten his followers. His resource was endless; he was by far the bestcook and the least fastidious eater of his company. He could cook a dishof cow's brains, or swallow raw oatmeal and salt-water. Surrounded byEnglish _cordons_, through which he slipped at night up the bed of aburn, when the sentinels had reached their furthest point apart, Charlesled a little expedition which cut off the cattle intended for theprovender of his enemies. (MS. "Lyon in Mourning. ") He would not evenlet a companion carry his great-coat. He knew every extremity of hunger, thirst, and cold; and perhaps his most miserable experience was to lurkfor many hours, devoured by midges, under a wet rock. Unshorn, unwashed, in a filthy shirt, his last, he was yet the courteous prince in hisdealings with all women whom he met, notably with Flora Macdonald, thestainless and courageous heroine of loyalty and womanly kindness. Atlast, late in September, 1746, Charles, with Lochiel and many others, escaped in a French barque from Loch Nahuagh, where he had first landed. It has been said of him by his enemies, especially by Dr. King, arenegade, that he was avaricious and ungrateful. Letters and receipts inthe muniment room of a Highland chief show him directing large sums, probably out of the Loch Arkaig treasure, to be paid to Lochiel, to"Keppoch's lady, " and to many poor clansmen. The receipts, written inhiding, and dried with snuff or sand, attest that the money came to thepersons for whom it was intended. 

Charles' expedition could only be justified by success. That it failedwas due to no want of courage, or audacity, or resolve on his part, butto the very nature of a Highland army, to the jealousies of Irish andScotch, to the half-heartedness of his English partisans, and to theEnglish horror of his father's religion. By his own creed he held veryloosely. 

[Illustration: The First Meeting of Prince Charles with Flora MacDonald. ]

In France Charles was a popular hero, and adored by ladies. Hisappearance at court was magnificent, and for him the Princesse deTallemant made every sacrifice. But the Government was deaf to hisappeals, a journey to Spain was fruitless; worst of all, his brotherHenry, to whom he had been tenderly devoted, accepted a cardinal's hat, on July 3, 1747. This was fatal. The English would never forgive a sonof their so-called king who became a Romish priest; and the shadow ofthe hat fell on Charles. From letters of James to the prince, it isplain that, for some reason, the Duke of York could not look forward tomarriage and to continuing the Stuart family. The young man, therefore, having also a vocation withal, accepted ecclesiastical rank, and acluster of rich benefices. A breach between Charles and James followed, which was never healed, despite the touching letters of the king to his"dearest Carluccio. " Charles betook himself to adventurous and secretprojects. In the Highlands he had learned to seek the consolation of thepoor, and to forget hunger, cold, misery, and sorrow in drink. He drank"our best bowlsman, " says an islander, under the table. The habit soondominated him, and--with his disgraceful arrest and imprisonment, whenhe refused to acknowledge the peace of Aix la Chapelle and to withdrawfrom France--soured his character and ruined his life. Released fromVincennes, he hurried to the then Papal city of Avignon, where heintroduced boxing-matches. England threatened to bombard Civita Vecchia, and Charles had to depart. Whither he went no man knows. There is aJacobite tract of 1750, purporting to be written by his equerry, HenryGoring. According to this, Charles, Goring, and a mysterious Comte de laLuze (Marshal Keith?), went to Lyons, Dijon, Strasbourg. Here Charlesrescued a beautiful girl from a fire, and honorably declined to takeadvantage of her manifest passion for her preserver. The party wasattacked by assassins, Charles shot two of them, La Luze and Goringaccounted for others. They took ship from some northern coast, weretempest-driven to an unfriendly port, visited, apparently, Frederick theGreat, spent some time in Lithuania, and there are hints of a loveaffair, though Charles had already proclaimed that he would nevermarry to beget royal beggars. He certainly visited Sweden; there wastalk of him as a candidate for the Polish crown. For many years(1749-1755) neither James nor the English Government knew where Charlesreally was. Grimm says that for three years he lay hidden in the houseof a lady in Paris, a friend of the Princesse de Tallemant. A sportsmanand a lover of the open air is not likely to have loitered so long withArmida in a secret chamber. There is tattle about him in D'Argenson's"Memoirs;" a disguised shabby prince appears now and then, none knowswhence, and vanishes. In the papers of Charles Stuart, Comte d'Albanie, one finds a trace of a visit paid by the prince to Ireland. There isevidence, in the State Papers, that he was not far from Paris, in June, 1749. We have it under his own hand, in the Stuart Papers at Windsor, that he visited London on September 5, 1750, returning to Paris onSeptember 13th. Here, as we know from the document left by ArchibaldCameron, Lochiel's brother, the last man executed for the rising, orrather for a later plot, Charles renounced the Catholic faith. Charleshimself gives 1750 as the date of this conversion. It came five yearstoo late, and he recanted his recantation. He was in England again later(1752), and held his last council in Merriworth Castle in Kent. There isa legend of his ghost haunting a house in Godalming, which probablycomes from a tradition of his residence there. Since 1750 orthereabouts, a Miss Clementina Walkinshaw, of Barrowfield, had been hismistress. He is said to have met her near Glasgow, and flirted with her;when or where she fled to him on the continent is obscure. Mr. Ewaldsupposes her to have been with him in Paris before the affair ofVincennes (1748). The writer, however, has seen a letter from Paris to asister of Miss Walkinshaw describing the arrest at the Opera House, without the most distant allusion to Clementina, about whom her sisterwould be concerned. Clementina, judging by a miniature, was a lady withvery large black eyes; a portrait in oil gives a less favorable view ofher charms. In 1754 Charles was again in England, and in Nottingham. Heactually walked in Hyde Park, where someone, recognizing him, tried tokneel to him. He therefore returned at once to France. He is reported tohave come back in 1755 or 1756, braving the reward of £30, 000 for hishead. The Jacobites now requested him to dismiss Clementina Walkinshaw, whose eldest sister was a lady housekeeper in the Hanoverian family. Ascrap in Charles's hand at Windsor proves that he regarded some lady asa possible traitor, but he declined to be dictated to, in his householdmatters, by his adherents. This gave the English Jacobites an excuse forturning their coats, of which they availed themselves. Sir Walter Scottmakes the romance of "Redgauntlet" hang on the incident. About this timejottings of Charles prove that he fancied himself a Republican. He hatedLouis XV. , and declined on one occasion to act as a bug-bear(_épouvantail_), at the request of France. He had already struck a medalin honor of the British Navy and contempt of the French. He is now lostsight of till 1760, when Miss Walkinshaw, with his daughter, left hisprotection for that of a convent. This lady, in some letters, nowunluckily lost, endeavored to persuade her family that she was marriedto the prince. A later myth averred that her daughter (the Duchess ofAlbany) had been secretly married, and a General Stuart, claiming, onthis evidence, to be a legitimate descendant of the prince, died about1852. As Charles, late in life, legitimatized his daughter by ClementinaWalkinshaw (a thing needless had he been married to her mother), andmade affirmation that he never had any other child, all these legendsare manifestly absurd. (The affirmation is among documents in possessionof Lord Braye, and is published by the Historical MSS. Commission. )

From this point there is little historical or personal interest in thelife of Charles. His father, James III. , died in 1766, and was buried asa king. Charles hurried from Bouillon to Rome; his brother, thecardinal, tried to secure his recognition by the Papal Court, but thePope dared not, and no other government chose to defy the EnglishMinistry. Charles's life was spent, now in seclusion, now in society; hestill was fond of shooting, of music, and the drama; he still retainedhis grace of demeanor when he happened to be sober. Late in 1771 he wentin disguise to Paris, where he accepted a pension from France, and abeautiful bride, Louise, Princess of Stolberg, descended from the Earlof Ailesbury into whose arms Charles II. Fell under the stroke of hisfatal illness. The ill-matched pair were married on Good Friday, April17, 1772. At first Charles behaved with more sobriety and good humorthan usual. A child of the marriage was expected, at least by the ScotchJacobites, in 1773. There is a legend that a child was actually born, was intrusted to Captain John Carter Allen, was brought up by him as hisown, and this infant, grown to manhood, became the father of twogentlemen calling themselves John Sobieski Stolberg Stuart and CharlesEdward Stuart, Counts of Albany. They lived till late in the presentcentury, were picturesque figures in society, and writers of some spiritand vigor. For long they were much cherished by some noble Highlandfamilies. Charles, the younger, has left descendants. It is needless todiscuss here the authenticity of these claims. 

Charles's relations with his wife were on the pattern of his relationswith his mistress. He was jealous, and brutal beyond description; shewas courted by Alfieri, the poet, and, after fleeing from her husband toa convent, she united her fortunes with Alfieri's. On his death shechose a young French painter, Fabre, as his successor, and to him sheleft her rich collection of relics, spoils of the poet and the king. Abeautiful, witty, and engaging woman, she was long a centre of societyin Italy. She died in 1824. In 1784 Charles sent for his daughter byMiss Walkinshaw. Both had long been maintained by the cardinal. He madeher Duchess of Albany, medals were designed, if never struck, representing her as _spes ultima et exigua_, "the last frail hope, " ofthe Stuarts. For the last time, in conversation with a Mr. Greathead, the old spirit blazed out. His face brightened, he began the tale of hiscampaign, but, when attempting to narrate the butcheries of Cumberland, the cruel executions in London, he fell on the floor in convulsions. Heused to solace himself by playing on the pipes, and at the sound of themartial music which he had heard on three stricken fields, he was ableto live in the past. On January 31, 1788, the anniversary of the deathof Charles I. , Charles Edward passed away from earth. His daughter didnot long survive him; she was killed by a fall from her horse. Henry nowtook the title of Henry IX. "by grace of God, not by the will of men. "He died in 1806; the French had stripped him of all his property, eventhe famous Sobieski rubies were gone, and he was in receipt of a pensionfrom the English Government. In 1819 George IV. Erected a monument byCanova, in St Peters at Rome, to "James III. , son of James II. , King ofGreat Britain, to Charles Edward, and Henry, his sons, the last of theRoyal Stuart line. Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord. " Sir WalterScott visited this alone of Roman sights, in 1832, just before he camehome to die. 

Had Charles fallen at Culloden, history could find no blot on his name, no stain on the white rose. Surviving, as he did, a broken-heartedexile, with no home, no chance of a career, "eating his own heart, shunning the paths of men, " as Homer says of Bellerophon, he fell avictim to the habit which has ever the same wretched results, whichturns a hero to a coward, a gentleman to a brute. Yet, in his one yearof brilliance, he won immortal love. Scott had seen strong men, theprince's ancient comrades, weep at the mention of his name. No man, inany age, ever inspired such a large, such a gallant, such a tender andmelancholy body of song. Even now as one hears the notes of

 "Will ye no come back again, Better lo'ed ye canna be, "

sung by the lads of a Scotch village, one feels that Charles Stuart didnot wholly fail; the song outlives the dynasty, and relics of PrinceCharlie are fondly cherished, while no man cares a halfpenny for hisHanoverian rivals. 

The best life of Prince Charles is that by Mr. Ewald (London, 1875). Mr. Ewald alone has used the State Papers at the Record Office. LordStanhope's and Mr. Chambers's "Histories of the Forty-five" are alsoexcellent; as are "Jacobite Memoirs, " selected from Bishop Forbes's MS. "Lyon in Mourning. " These works, with the contemporary tracts, and someMSS. , with Lord Stanhope's "Decline of the Last Stuarts, " and the StuartPapers at Windsor, as given in Browne's "History of the Highland Clans, "have been consulted in compiling this study of Prince Charles. 

[Signature: Andrew Lang. ]

CAPTAIN JAMES COOK[14]

 [Footnote 14: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By OLIVER OPTIC

(1728-1779)

[Illustration: Captain James Cook. ]

As an example of the self-made man without fortune or the prestige of adistinguished family to assist him, perhaps there is none better andmore instructive than the career of Captain Cook, the great Englishnavigator and discoverer. At his birth, in 1728, his father was afarm-laborer, and his mother belonged to the same grade of society. Theylived in the north of England, and were people of excellent character. On account of his honesty, industry, and skill in farming, his fatherwas promoted to the place of head servant on a farm some distance fromwhere he had been working; but it does not appear that he ever made anyfurther advancement. James learned to read and write, and was instructedin some of the simpler rules of arithmetic, which was the extent of hisschool learning, a very slender outfit for one of the distinction towhich he attained in a lifetime of fifty years. 

At the age of thirteen James was bound as an apprentice to a dry-goodsdealer in a small way in a considerable fishing town. The business didnot suit the youth at all, for he had before cherished the idea of goingto sea, and his surroundings in a seaport doubtless increased hisyearnings in that direction. A disagreement between the apprentice andhis employer enabled him to procure his discharge, and he engaged hisservices to the Messrs. Walker, a couple of Quakers, who owned twovessels employed in the coal trade. He passed the greater portion of histerm, and a considerable period after its expiration, as a common sailoron board of the ship Free Love, where he obtained a thorough knowledgeof seamanship. From this humble sphere he was promoted to be mate of oneof the Walker ships. His life in this capacity was uneventful, though hewas all the time learning navigation and storing his mind with theinformation which was to enable him to distinguish himself in lateryears. 

In 1755, when Cook was twenty-seven years old, war broke out betweenEngland and France, and there was a great demand for seamen for the navyof England. At that time the system of impressment was in vogue, andwhen Britain wanted sailors she took them, wherever and whenever shecould find them. Press-gangs were sent out, under one or more officers, by ships of war in port needing more men. They visited thedrinking-places and taverns of the town and captured all the seamenthey could find, usually more or less intoxicated, and compelled them togo on board of the man-of-war. They were forced to do duty. Sometimesthe unlucky tars were taken from the vessels to which they belonged, whether in port or at sea. This impressment was not always confined toBritish seamen, and this system was one of the causes which led to thewar of 1812 between England and the United States. Though the lawsanctioning this abuse was never repealed, press-gangs became obsoletehalf a century ago. 

Cook's ship was in the Thames at this time, and he was liable toimpressment, for mates were not exempt, though captains were. Like allBritish seamen, he had a dread of being forced into the naval service, oftener because they were forced than for any other reason. He concealedhimself, and used all the precautions he could to avoid such a calamity, as he then regarded it. But he faithfully reconsidered the subject, andconcluded to enter the navy by voluntary enlistment, thus escapingimpressment, which would be an outrage upon his manhood. He began hisservice on board the Eagle, a sixty-gun ship, which was soon aftercommanded by Captain Palliser. Cook was not only an able and skilfulseaman, but he diligently and faithfully performed every duty, so thathe soon attracted the attention of his officers. 

His friends at home had endeavored to do something for him, and hiscommander received a letter from a member of Parliament commending theseaman to his favor. The captain acknowledged the merit of Cook in hisreply, but stated that he had been in the navy for so brief a periodthat he could not be made a commissioned officer, but in due time, if heproved worthy, a master's warrant might be obtained for him. Four yearsafter he entered the service a strong interest secured this promotionfor him. In this capacity he was assigned to the frigate Mercury, whichwas ordered to North America, where she became one of the fleet thatoperated in connection with the army of General Wolfe in the siege ofQuebec. 

The navigation of this portion of the St. Lawrence River was difficultand dangerous then to the English; they were comparative strangersthere, and the French had removed the channel buoys. It was necessary tomake a survey, and Captain Palliser recommended Master Cook for theservice. The locality was exposed to the enemy, and for several nightshe conducted the work till he had about completed it, when hisoperations were discovered by the French. A force of Indians was sent tocapture the surveyor, and they surrounded him in the darkness in theircanoes, and Cook made his escape only by leaping ashore, to which hisbarge had been directed, near the English hospital, while the Indianswere boarding the boat over the stern. But he had performed the dutyintrusted to him, and from his measurements constructed a perfect chartof the channel. 

He was a very skilful draughtsman, though he had educated himself in theart, as well as an expert surveyor, and he was employed by the admiralin making surveys of other portions of the river. His charts of thelocality were published, with soundings and sailing directions; and theywere so correct that no others were needed for at least a hundredyears. He piloted the boats of the squadron in the attack uponMontmorency, and superintended the landing of the troops for the assaulton the Plains of Abraham, where both Wolfe and Montcalm were mortallywounded. 

For four years Cook had been an acting master, but in 1759 he was fullyconfirmed in his rank and appointed to the flag-ship of Lord Colvill, passing the following winter at Halifax. This was a season of leisurefrom active professional occupation, and the master employed it instudying geometry, astronomy, and mathematics generally, fitting himselffor the highest positions in the navy. For the next ten years he waslargely engaged in surveying in Newfoundland, and was present at itscapture from the French. Returning to England he was married, but wassoon sent back to the field of his recent labors, as marine surveyor ofthe coasts, by the influence of his constant friend, now Sir HughPalliser. He was busily employed in this capacity, rendering valuableservice to his country, and especially to the king's ministers inarranging the terms of peace with France. During his absence he observedan eclipse of the sun, which was so well done that his results werepublished in the "Philosophical Transactions, " adding greatly to hisreputation as an astronomer. 

At this period the spirit of discovery was reanimated in England, and anexpedition was fitted out, at the instance of the Royal Society, primarily to observe a transit of Venus across the disk of the sun, which could only be done in some parts of the Pacific Ocean. Sir HughPalliser was again his friend, and Cook, raised to the rank oflieutenant, was appointed to the command. He selected a ship of threehundred and seventy tons, called the Endeavor, for the purpose, andaccompanied by several eminent scientists, he sailed in 1778. Inaddition to its astronomical task, the expedition was to makediscoveries and explorations in the Pacific. 

It would be impossible to follow Lieutenant Cook in the details of histhree notable voyages of discovery in anything less than a volume, sofull are they of interesting incidents. He proceeded first to Madeira, and then across the Atlantic to Rio Janeiro, where he made aconsiderable stay to obtain supplies, and improve the condition of hiscrew. Passing through the Strait of Le Maire, he went around Cape Horn, and in April of 1769 the Endeavor arrived at Otaheite, now calledTahiti, in the Society Islands, where the transit was to be observed. The observations required a considerable stay in Matavia Bay, and assoon as he had made his preparations on shore for the work, thecommander established regulations for intercourse between his people andthe natives who crowded in multitudes around their strange visitors. 

No man in his day and generation ever had more extensive dealings withthe uncivilized tribes of the earth than Captain Cook, and none evertreated them with more enlightened humanity, or with more even-handedjustice. His treatment of the aborigines of the vast number of islandsand other regions he visited, is in remarkable contrast with that of theearly explorers of the Western Continent. By the latter the natives wereremorselessly slain, enslaved, and even tortured. They were regarded aspagans, with no natural rights, whose territories, families, and personswere the legitimate spoils of the conquerors. On the contrary, Cook, with the means in his possession to overawe, subdue, and subjugate them, always extended to them the utmost consideration in his power. He couldbe severe when necessity required, but his forbearance was almostunlimited. 

The first of a series of rules he established and enforced was: "Toendeavor, by every fair means, to cultivate a friendship with thenatives, and to treat them with all imaginable humanity. " He was largelydependent upon the resources of the islands he visited for thesustenance of his people; but nothing, except in dire necessity, wasever taken from the natives by force. Persons were appointed to tradewith them, and no others were allowed to barter or exchange goods withthem, and a proper equivalent was always to be given. His own men wereput under the strictest discipline in order to control their relationswith the natives who constantly surrounded them. Generally the mostfriendly spirit prevailed on both sides. The inhabitants of all theislands seemed to have a natural inclination to steal, and most of thetrouble with them grew out of this tendency. Cook judiciously repressedtheft from the beginning, and almost invariably compelled therestoration of the property. 

On the other hand, his own men were sometimes tempted to desert; but hehunted them down, secured one or more chiefs as hostages, or by somecommon-sense method recovered the absentees. At some of the islands Cookwas extremely popular with the inhabitants, and was regarded as asuperior being, even a demigod, in many of them. When he was compelledto resort to extreme severity, he did not begin with cannon, loaded withgrape, but trusted first to the loud report, terrific to the savages, fired over their heads, or had the muskets loaded with small shot whichwould hurt, but did not kill. No slaughter that could possibly beavoided was permitted. If he erred at all it was on the side ofhumanity, and if he had been less forbearing he might have added moreyears to his length of days. 

The astronomical work at Otaheite was successfully accomplished, and inJuly Captain Cook departed, taking with him Tupia, a native of somedistinction, who proved to be valuable to him as an interpreter, and forhis general knowledge. During this voyage he visited many of the islandsof the Pacific, including New Zealand, where he encountered no littlehostility, so that it was often difficult and sometimes impossible toestablish friendly relations with the natives. But he obtained what heneeded, and proceeded on his voyage. He gave names to islands, bays, straits, and harbors, some of which seem strange at the present day, butmost of them were suggested by the circumstances of the visit. Of manyof the islands he took possession in the name of his sovereign, leavingmemorials of his landing. 

Sailing to the westward, he examined the east coast of New Holland, asit was then called, Australia, at the present time, charted the coast, as he had done throughout the voyage, and took possession of the countryin the name of England. The existence of a Southern Continent had longbeen a mooted question, and in this and subsequent voyages Captain Cooksearched unsuccessfully for it. He passed through Torres Strait, andthus proved that New Guinea was not a part of Australia, as someclaimed. Continuing his voyage, he went around the Cape of Good Hope, and reached England in the middle of 1771. The results of his cruise ofnearly four years were exceedingly important to his country. Hisreputation was largely increased, and he was promoted to the rank ofcommander in the navy. 

So well approved was the conduct of Captain Cook on his first voyagearound the world, that he was appointed to the command of anothersimilar expedition, consisting of two ships, the Resolution and theAdventure, and after about a year on shore, he sailed again in 1772. Hewent around the Cape of Good Hope, and cruised in the Southern Pacific, discovering and taking possession of New Caledonia, visiting islandswhere he had landed before, and exploring and charting the New Hebrides. His instructions particularly required him to circumnavigate the earthin the highest practicable southern latitude in search of the unknowncontinent still supposed to be there. He used the southern summer forthis purpose; but he found no land he was willing to call a continent. Though large bodies of land have since been discovered in that region, the question is still an open one. 

Adapting his operations to the varying climate of the north and thesouth, Captain Cook continued his explorations, encountering manyhardships and perils in unknown seas, from hostile savages, and in theicy realms of the extreme south. 

He returned to England in 1775 after an absence of three years. Thecommander had always taken excellent care of the health of his men, forin voyages of the description he had undertaken the mortality was alwaysconsiderable, and sometimes terrible. One of the most noticeablefeatures of his second expedition was that it returned with a record ofonly one death in both ships; and the details of the means he used tosecure a good sanitary condition among his crews are very interesting. 

On his return Cook was immediately raised to the rank of post-captain, and was also appointed a captain in Greenwich Hospital, which secured tohim an honorable retirement, and reward for his important labors. He waselected a member of the Royal Society, which also bestowed upon him agold medal in recognition of his contributions to the science of theperiod. The passage from the Atlantic to the Pacific by the north coastof America was exciting a great deal of attention at this time, andCaptain Cook was sent upon an expedition to continue his explorations inthe Pacific, and then to investigate the mystery of a northwest passage. He sailed in the Resolution in 1776, and was followed by Captain Clerkein the Discovery. He proceeded, after his arrival at the Cape of GoodHope, to Tasmania, visited New Zealand again, and passed the followingyear in explorations in the Pacific. 

[Illustration: Death of Captain Cook. ]

In the first month of 1778 he discovered the Sandwich Islands, to whichhe gave this name in honor of his patron, the Earl of Sandwich, thenthe first Lord of the Admiralty. Obtaining the supplies he needed, thecommander proceeded to explore the northwest coast of America, which hefollowed inside of Behring Strait, till the ice and cold compelled himto seek a more southern latitude, which he found in the genial airs ofthe Sandwich Islands. 

During his former visit he had found the natives to be friendly andgenerally well disposed, though more addicted to thieving than thepeople of any other islands the explorer had visited. For someunexplained reason they were in a different frame of mind on his secondvisit. A boat belonging to the expedition had been stolen by thesavages, and Captain Cook proceeded, in his usual vigorous manner, torecover it. He sent a boat on shore for this purpose, and then landedhimself with another party, intending to capture a certain chief, to beexchanged for the boat. An immense crowd gathered around him, and werehypocritically friendly at first; but it was soon observed that theywere arming themselves. The commander asked Kariopoo, the chief he hadselected, to go with him, and he made no objection. The captain hadordered the marines to be drawn up on the shore, and leading hisprisoner by the hand he approached the boat, the natives opening apassage for him. 

The chief's family and friends interposed to save him, declaring that hewould be killed if he went on board of the ship. The captainexpostulated with them and the tumult increased. The lieutenant ofmarines wanted to fire, but Cook refused the pet mission. The tumultsoon became a battle, and then he ordered his men to fire. As he wastrying to save his party he was struck with a club, which partiallystunned him, and then he was stabbed in the back of the neck by an irondagger. He fell into shallow water, and the savages threw themselvesupon him. A struggle ensued, and he was hauled on the beach by his foes, where they stabbed him in turn in their barbarous rage. His body lay onthe beach, and it might have been recovered, but it was not. Only aportion of his remains were obtained, and they were buried at sea. 

Thus perished Captain James Cook, and all England mourned him. 

[Signature: William S. Adams. ]

JOHN HOWARD[15]

 [Footnote 15: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By HARRIET G. WALKER

(1726-1790)

[Illustration: John Howard. ]

John Howard was born in Hackney, Middlesex County, England, September 2, 1726. The only existing record of this fact is the inscription upon hismonument in St. Paul's Cathedral, London. His parentage came through asomewhat obscure family, his father being sometimes mentioned as anupholsterer and sometimes as a merchant of moderate means. Of his motherwe know only her name--Chomley--and that she died when her second child, and only son, was an infant. The father was a strict, sturdy, honest, severe Puritan, the marks of whose character ever remained on thecharacter of the son. 

The motherless boy seems to have passed unnoticed through the weary daysof a sickly childhood, and the usual martyrdom of the "dullest boy inthe school, " under first one tutor and then another, to his sixteenthyear, when he left school and books, as he afterward testifies, "notthoroughly knowing any one thing. " How much does any boy or girlthoroughly know of any one thing at sixteen? Surely not enough towarrant his removal from school. 

But not so reasoned the father of John Howard, for we find him at thisage apprenticing his only son to Alderman Newham, a wholesale grocer onWatling Street, London. 

That this was not a change made from pecuniary necessity is evidenced bythe liberal provision made for the boy. We are told that his father paid£700 for his fee of apprenticeship, and provided him a separate suite ofapartments, a servant, and a pair of saddle-horses! The inference isthat young John's progress in school was not such as to warrant hiscontinuance at his books. 

His letters and manuscripts still in existence reveal a lamentabledeficiency in orthography and the handling of the king's English. 

Some of Howard's biographers attempt to attribute his methodicalbusinesslike habits in later life to the experience gained while in theservice of this wholesale grocer. But when we consider that his stay wasfar less than one year, we may fairly be allowed to conclude that morewas due to an inherited temperament for slow methodical action. 

Before reaching his seventeenth year, the death of his father releasedhim from the grocery business, for which he had evidently no affection, and left him in possession of £7, 000 in ready cash, beside land, plate, house, etc. 

This fortune was left under the management of guardians, it being hisfather's wish that he should not control it until his twenty-fourthyear. But his course of life goes to show that he had wonderfully easytrustees, as he immediately bought himself off the grocery business, andmade a long tour of the Continent for the benefit of his health. Returning to England, he dropped into the little village of StokeNewington, a mere hamlet, where he had some possessions. 

That a young man of wealth and free from all ties of family or business, should have voluntarily chosen such a home, and been contented to remainthere, in a state of idle inactivity, for the space of seven or eightyears, can be accounted for only by remembering his feeble health. 

When twenty-five, his health entirely failed, and he was prostrated by asevere fit of illness, through which he was nursed by his landlady, Mrs. Loidore. Upon his recovery he made her his wife, in testimony of hisgratitude, though history records that she had neither beauty, money, nor health, having been an invalid for twenty-two years, and wastwenty-seven years his senior. 

Two or three years after this seemingly ill-suited marriage, which, strange to say, seems to have been a not unhappy one, Mrs. Howard died. Immediately Mr. Howard, then twenty-eight or nine years of age, againleft England for a second extended tour. This being the year of thegreat earthquake of Lisbon, he naturally turned his steps thitherward. 

Setting sail from England for Spain, he was captured on the high seas bya French privateer, and for two months suffered the hardships andindignities of prison life in those times. Upon his release he used allhis influence to secure the exchange of the remainder of his vessel'scompany, and was successful. This prison experience he never forgot. 

Three years later (1758) he married Henrietta Leeds, a lady of finecharacter, and one to whom he was sincerely attached. Indeed, so fearfulwas he that their married life might not be entirely without jars, thathe made a bargain with her, in advance of their marriage, that on alldisputed points the adjustment should be according to his judgment. Oneis at a loss which member of a couple the most to admire, the man whocould make such a proposition, or the woman who would bind herself withsuch bonds! But, like his first marriage, his strange contract with hissecond wife seems to have led only to happy results. 

They settled in Cardington, upon the Howard estate, and for the nextseven years led the uneventful life of landed gentry of the times. Thehusband and wife were united in their efforts to improve the morals andgeneral condition of their tenantry. Rightly believing that thebeginning of all reform was to improve the physical condition, Howardspared no expense in rearing new cottages upon new and improved plans, held his tenants removable at will, and through their improvedconditions ruled over them with an almost despotic sway, tempered andmade bearable in that all his restrictions and requirements were on theline of their temporal and spiritual advancement. 

How strange is the making of history! Had the gentle, loving, well-governed, dependent Mrs. Howard lived on, this would no doubt havebeen the continuation, the aim, and the end of John Howard's life--toconstantly advance and improve the interests and condition of histenantry, and to wisely govern and administer his estate. But it was notso to be. The happy home must be broken up, and the man whom God neededmust, through the sting of his own sorrow, be sent out again upon hiswanderings to do the work reserved for him in the broad field not of hisown choosing. The birth of the only child, a son, preceded the death ofits mother by but a few days, and Howard was again alone. To the end ofhis life he remained a sincere and constant mourner for the wife to whomhe owed the happiest, if not the most useful, seven years of his life. It is said by some of his biographers that he always kept theanniversary of her death as a solemn day of fasting and prayer. 

Come we now to the point in his career where, all unknown to himself, Howard took up the work which was to startle the whole civilized world, and place his name in the roll of those whose memories die not. 

But first let us remember the son whose life began where his mother'sended, and ended where it was well his mother had not lived to see it. 

It would seem that the loss of his beloved wife and the sad recollectionof his own motherless unloved boyhood, would have made of John Howard atender and pitiful, as well as devoted father. Such was not the case, ifwe may judge from the vehemence with which some of his biographers denythe charges of undue severity to the infant, and forgetfulness andneglect of the growing-up boy, and the silence of others on the samesubject. 

The real truth probably was, so far as we can judge, that the man hadnothing in his stiff nature and puritanical education, certainly nothingin his own early life, to make him respond to the uninterestinghelplessness of infancy. 

So we find him doing his duty by the crying infant of a few months, in amanner which would be amusing if it were not pathetic. He takes him fromthe nurse, lays him across his knees, and sits unmoved and unmovableuntil the tempest exhausts itself, and the child is silent fromexhaustion, when he hands him solemnly back to the nurse, and feelsthat, by so much at least, has he cast out of the young child the spiceof Old Adam, which is the birthright of us all! A few such experiences, we are told, and the child would at once cease its struggles and besilent. One would surely think it would!

But the silent, lonely man, bereft of the loving companionship of thegentle wife, who would so differently have soothed and silenced thecrying infant, could not long bear the solitude of his broken home, andso began the years of wanderings, which lasted as long as his life, andthrough which he seems so largely to have lost sight of his young son athis most impressionable age, save to provide for his material wants, and to some extent, also, his education. When with him in later years heappears to have enjoyed his society, or at least the evidences which hegave of implicit, unreasoning obedience, illustrated by his remark, "Ibelieve if I told the boy to put his hand in the fire he would obey me. "

At four the boy was put into a boarding-school, and the home was brokenup. The later glimpses which we get of his career are vague, unsatisfactory, or decidedly bad, until the end came, and "Jack" wasincarcerated in a mad-house when but twenty-two, where his unfortunatelife went out after twelve years' confinement in a darkness thatdarkened also the last years of his good, if injudicious, father, with asorrow beside which all common bereavements should seem like blessings. 

In 1769, then, we see the Cardington home broken up, the boy placed in aboarding-school, and John Howard setting forth upon what to him was butan aimless journey, in search of consolation, amid new scenes, for theshattered fortunes of his home. He travelled over large portions ofItaly, and returned again to England, where in 1773 he was elected HighSheriff of Bedford. No sooner had he entered upon the duties of hisoffice, than he was struck with the gross injustice of the practices, especially as affecting those prisoners held for debt. Many heads offamilies were held for months and years, not for the original debt forwhich they were incarcerated, which in many cases had been forgiven orpaid, but for an accumulation of fees due to jailer and divers otherofficers of the prison, who drew their salaries from this source. Muchastounded by such a state of things in a Christian land, but supposingit to be a peculiarity of his own county, he made a journey into some ofthe surrounding districts, to learn from them, if possible, some bettermethod. It but augmented his indignation and distress to find theircondition and methods worse even than at home, since in some he actuallyfound the fees wrung from these unhappy prisoners to amount to so muchthat the office of jailer was sold to the highest bidder, the sum paidfor the position often amounting to as much as £40 per annum. 

On this tour Howard, now thoroughly awake on the subject, could not butobserve the miseries of the prisoners from other sources, besidesextortions. This might have been borne, but for the terrible crowding ofherds of men and women, without regard to age, sex, character, or crime, into foul underground dungeons, damp, dark, unventilated, oftenunwarmed, with insufficient and unfit food and clothing, without beds, and many in chains. Such were the sights which met his gaze at everyturn, and moved his soul with shame for his country, and a slow butdeadly anger that, once kindled, died only with his life. Thoroughly andsystematically he continued his investigation of the jails and prisonsof England, until he had been over them all, which consumed nearly ayear's time (travel was a different matter a hundred years ago, fromnow), and then made his report public, for which labor he was calledbefore the bar of the House of Commons and received the thanks of thataugust body. 

More satisfactory still, he had the pleasure of seeing two bills passed, one making the office of jailer a salaried position, thereby abolishingthe whole iniquitous system of special fees from prisoners, the otherhaving reference to improvements in ventilation and other sanitarymatters. 

The text of these bills he had printed in large bold type at his ownexpense, and sent them to every jail and prison in England. A few monthslater, being desirous of seeing whether or not the requirements of thenew laws were being put into execution, he made personal inspection, riding by chaise or on horseback from city to city and from town totown. 

Toward the last of this year, 1774, Howard made his first and lastventure into the arena of political life. Being a man of strong, sternpolitical convictions, and feeling it his duty to stand by hisprinciples, he listened to the advice of friends, and made a stand forthe House of Commons. Fortunately for the world he was defeated by _fourvotes_. 

On such small hinges swing the doors of life. Had he been elected hewould doubtless have sunk out of sight and been forgotten, and his greatwork would have been given to some other agent. 

Though greatly disappointed at his failure, Howard's mind at oncereturned to the question of prison reform, and his next journey led himover Ireland and Scotland. The former he found worse and the latterbetter than England. 

Being desirous of publishing a book upon his investigations and theirresults, he at the close of this year left England to examine theprisons of France, Flanders, and Holland. It surprises us much to learnthat he found the prisons of Holland almost models, while France isdeclared far in advance of England, although these were the days of theBastille! He also journeyed into Switzerland and again made a survey ofthe jails of England and Wales. Feeling at last that he had sufficientmaterial he returned to England and began upon his book. For eightmonths he labored incessantly upon this work, correcting proofs, collating and arranging statistics, etc. , although for the literary parthe was obliged to call in the assistance of some of his learned friends, who, better than he understood the use of the king's English. 

This book made a most profound sensation throughout the civilized world. That it might reach a more extended circulation, it was sold at lessthan the cost of production, and large numbers were given away among theofficials. All this expense was borne by Howard out of his own privatepurse, as were at all times his immense and constant outlay in travel. Not only his whole private income, but the fortune of £15, 000 receivedfrom his only sister at her death, was expended in the same manner. 

Subsequently Howard published a second volume, in 1780, as an appendixto the first, and in 1784 a third and last, which was a compilation ofthe first two, with much added material acquired during his continuoustravels over every part of Europe. 

[Illustration: Howard relieving a Prisoner. ]

During the earlier and idler parts of his life, Howard had been pleasedto dabble somewhat in medicine, after the manner of the gentlemen of histime. This stood him in good part upon his travels, and made himfamiliar with the various forms of disease that especially afflictedprisons and the people at large. For jail fever and typhus he rightlyjudged that the sanitary and food conditions were sufficient cause andattacked them from this basis. But having in a measure finished his jailand prison work, to his mind, he became possessed with the idea that hemight search out and find a remedy for the dreadful _plague_ that wasfilling all Europe with dismay. The methodical habit of the man's mindis evidenced by noting that he followed exactly the same method in thisas in his former undertaking, namely, personal investigation andexperience. He left home in July, 1789, and it is surprising that forsix months he literally lived in the poisonous atmosphere of thepest-houses, pest-ships, and lazarettos of Europe, and escapedcontagion. In January, 1790, however, in a little Russian village nearthe Crimea, he was called upon to prescribe for a young lady, ill withsome low malignant fever, from which visit he contracted the samedisease. Being then sixty-four years of age, naturally frail, worn downby sixteen years of hard, exhaustive toil, depleted by a diet that foundno place for meats or stimulants, he had nothing upon which to rally, and rapidly sank into the long slumber which at last gave him what hehad so many years denied himself--_rest_. 

His remains were buried there in Russia in the village of Dophinovka. After his death a monument was erected to his memory, being the firstplaced in St. Paul's Cathedral, London. This was appropriately inscribedto his memory, although it was his latest expressed wish that he shouldbe left to sleep in an unmarked, unknown grave. 

A just estimate of the character of John Howard can only be arrived atby a careful consideration of the times in which he lived and thepeculiar circumstances of his life. The natural inherited sternness ofhis character never felt the modifying influences of a mother's love orthe companionship of brothers or sisters. His ill health added to hisrestless desire for travel and change, but unfitted him for close orcontinued application to any special line of thought or interest, whilehis early independence in the management of his fortune placed in hisway strong temptations to extravagance and idleness. 

It is therefore more than an ordinary indication of an inborn principleof humanity when we find him, upon his first settlement upon hisfather's estates, devoting time, thought, and money to the ameliorationof the condition of his neglected and suffering tenantry. Modellandlords were not in fashion in those times, and a man who soadministered his affairs must have done so in the face of muchcriticism, ridicule, and contempt among his peers. 

But none of these things seem to have moved him from the even tenor ofhis way. Yet there was no sentimentalism in his dealings with histenants, as we find him holding them to a strict accounting for the usemade of their improved conditions. 

So of his prison work. It seemed to be all and altogether for themasses, and not for individuals. No record is left of personalalmsgiving, save when resorted to as a ruse to obtain entrance to theFrench prisons. That his interest was not in individuals is furthershown by the calm and deliberate manner in which he prosecuted hisinvestigations, taking years for the accumulation of materials andmonths to their careful watching through the press. It was the principleof justice ingrained in the man's deepest nature that forced him to_know_ all that could be known or said upon both sides before speaking. It was this thoroughness, this absolute fairness, that made of his workand of his inartistically constructed books the tremendous and lastingsuccess which they were. 

Deeply religious, he naturally reflected the spirit of the religiousteachings of the times, which savored more of the terrors of the lawthan of mercy and forgiveness to evil-doers; that found more worship indenying self the indulgences of soft living than in the partaking of theharmless pleasures and sweets of life, giving a good God thanks for Hisgood gifts. Through all the life and writings of Howard one constantlyhears the minor chord of infinite sadness wrought into his life by hismotherless infancy, his unloved boyhood, his years of invalidism, hisceaseless mourning for his wife Henrietta, the bitterness of death inthe cup held to his lips by his unfortunate son, and over and above all, the constant atmosphere of crime, cruelty, sin, and suffering in whichhe spent the last sixteen years of his life. Life to him came to meansin, suffering, and sorrow in the world about him, and for himself work, work, incessant work, in the effort to do what one man could to lift orlighten the burden under which the whole earth groaned. Death came tohim where he would have most wished it might, and took him directly fromlabor to reward. And throughout the coming ages the world will be thebetter because in the last half of the eighteenth century there lived, labored, and died in the midst of his labors one _John Howard, thePhilanthropist_. 

[Signature: Harriet G. Walker. ]

ETHAN ALLEN[16]

 [Footnote 16: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By GERTRUDE VAN RENSSELAER WICKHAM

(1738-1789)

Was Ethan Allen a hero or a humbug? a patriot or a pretender? AskVermont and she cries "Nulli secundus!" Ask New York and the reply is"Ad referendum. "

The differentiation antedates the American Revolution and the part EthanAllen played in that historic drama. It is an inheritance of lovingloyalty and gratitude that quivers in the answer of one State, thetraditional antagonisms of prejudice that speak in the other. 

But for Ethan Allen, Vermont would have had no separate existence. Butfor Ethan Allen, New York's northeastern boundary would have been theConnecticut River. Therefore, on one shore of Lake Champlain thedisputed shield is unalloyed gold, reflecting all that is strong andbrave, all that is courageous and magnanimous, all that is patriotic andgenerous, while from the other shore its appearance is as brass engravenby vanity and vulgarity, by self-sufficiency and infidelity. 

[Illustration: Ethan Allen. ]

Controversy over property rights engenders such diversities of opinion, and when, as in this case, one side gains all and the other loses much, the exultation of triumph or the bitterness of defeat will color the inkof all literature on the subject for a century to come. 

Not until after the year 1761 did the dense wilderness of eitherNorthern New York, or what was then considered Western New Hampshire, prove attractive to the Yankee or Dutch settler in search of a pioneerhome. The cruel conflicts that for over seventy years had made theseborder lands the scene of bloody race enmities were ended by theconquest of Canada. These primeval forests, that had echoed only to thetread of skulking savages, or the revengeful tramp of opposing forces, became peaceful spots for the erection of hearth-stones around whichwomen and children might gather in safety. Many of the Connecticutsoldiery who had taken active part in the late French and Indian wars, now recalled the beautiful country through which they had marched tomeet or pursue the foe, the grandeur of its evergreen mountain peaks, the limpid sheets of water nestling between, its sparkling fish-ladenstreams, and the apparent fertility of its soil. 

These recollections were stimulated by the conditions which confrontedthem on their return to peaceful and agricultural pursuits. Thesubdivision of farms among the many robust sons of the average NewEngland household had reached its limit, and the young man who wouldfound a home and family of his own, thenceforth must seek for cheaperand broader acres than were to be found already under cultivation. NewHampshire's liberal offer of grants in her western border upon easyterms, decided the future of many a New England lad, and for severalyears the tide of emigration rolled steadily northward. 

From Burlington, on Lake Champlain, for one hundred miles south toBennington, the sound of the axe was heard by day and by night. Theenthusiasms of a new country lent strength to the arm and courage to theheart. In every direction homes sprang up, surrounded by young orchards, and beyond and around these, cultivated fields. 

Suddenly the settlers were set to wondering and worrying at the sight ofstrange surveyors taking new measurements through the farms wrenchedfrom the wilds with so much of hard labor and wearisome toil. And thenthe blow fell. New York was claiming all this tract of land as part ofher province, and declaring New Hampshire grants to be null and void. Asecond payment for their farms was demanded, based upon their presentvalue as improved property. 

In some cases new owners put in an appearance and attempted to takepossession, having purchased, in good faith, of land speculators in NewYork City, to whom Governor Colden, of New York, had issued immensegrants covering a large part of the disputed territory. Thesespeculators were mostly lawyers, who were favorites or friends of thegovernor. Against these shrewd men of wealth and education, with theirpowerful backing, the puny defence of the original settlers seemedwellnigh hopeless. But it was to be a contest between might and right, and that invisible influence which seems ever to weaken the one andstrengthen the other was surely, though silently at work. 

Upon this scene of trouble and uncertainty appears Ethan Allen, afarmer, born about thirty years before in Coventry, Conn. , large offrame, of great personal strength, and with mental characteristics inharmony with his powerful physique: a tender-hearted giant whosestandard of honor and honesty soon measured the injustice of New York'sposition in the land controversy, and at once sided with the besiegedfarmers, with whom he had many generalities of sympathy. 

With fiery energy of will and purpose, he immediately assumed theleadership of the defence, guiding its combined strength into the legalside of the question, thus meeting the power of alleged law with likeweapons. Selecting the best legal talent of Connecticut as assistants, and armed with New Hampshire's charter and seal, he appeared in theAlbany courts to contest New York's claim that the Connecticut River wasthe boundary between that province and New Hampshire. 

But the trial was a farce, stripped of all dignity and justice by thefact that the judge upon the bench, the prosecuting attorneys, and otherofficials were personally interested, each holding New York grants formany thousand acres in the disputed territory. All evidence for thedefence, even the New Hampshire charter, was ruled out of court, andEthan Allen's peaceful efforts for defence were defeated. 

He returned home, burning with indignation and resolving to protect hisproperty and that of his neighbors, if need were, by the force of hisown strong right arm. For six years, under his leadership, all attemptsby New York settlers to take possession were frustrated by the alertnessof the "Green Mountain Boys, " as the defence now termed themselves, whodrove them off quietly or with violence, according to the exigencies ofthe occasion. 

As a measure of punishment for these acts, Ethan Allen was outlawed bythe Governor of New York, and a price offered for his capture. Soonafter he rode alone into Albany one day, and alighting at a tavern inthe heart of the city, called for refreshment. His former visit hadmarked his strong personality in the remembrance of many, and he was atonce recognized by prominent officials, who stared at him withcuriosity, but made no effort to arrest him. Returning their gaze, helifted his glass to his lips, pledging in a loud, firm voice "The GreenMountain Boys, " and then rode away unmolested. 

This act was defined by his friends as the rashness of bravery; by hisenemies as the madness of impudence. 

But the cloud overhanging the shores of Lake Champlain was but a shadowcompared with the darkness of the storm brooding over the whole regionsouth and east of it, and the battle of Lexington ended this localstrife. 

Thenceforth, Ethan Allen was to bid defiance, not to a State, but to anation. To him and his Green Mountain Boys came urgent appeals fromleading patriots of the American Revolution for help and support in thecoming struggle, and the answer was more than kindly assent and promise:it was prompt and vigorous action--the first aggressive blow at thepower of Great Britain, for the musket-shots that harassed theretreating red-coats from Concord were those of spirited defence ratherthan of deliberate attack. 

As the fortress of Ticonderoga had been the key of the position in thelate French and Indian wars, the gain or loss of which meant eitheroverwhelming victory or disaster, so now it was deemed of equalimportance in the coming conflict, which inevitably would bring theBritish foe upon them from the North, along the same familiar war-path. The capture of this fort was a serious undertaking, for it was wellgarrisoned by a company of British soldiers, and thoroughly equipped forvigorous defense. Only the keenest strategy and the most completesurprise would avail in the accomplishment of the task. 

But the experience and ability of Ethan Allen--who had been unanimouslychosen as leader--was adequate to the occasion, and his plans were madewith the greatest secrecy and skill. One of his men was detailed to gainadmission to the fort on some pretext, and then by skilfully acting thepart of a greenhorn full of foolish questions, to learn many importantfacts and necessary details. In addition, a lad was found thoroughlyfamiliar with the interior of the garrison, who would serve as guide, and on the night of May 9, 1775, 270 American patriots appeared on theshore opposite Fort Ticonderoga, which was on the west or New York sideof Lake Champlain. 

A day or two previous a small force of men had been despatched secretlyto points above and below this spot in quest of boats, which failingthem, in this emergency only 83 of the 270 men could be accommodated inthe limited number at hand. Spring lingers long in this latitude, andthe night, clear and cold, was giving way to dawn when the brave leaderand his little vanguard of heroes resolved to attack without furtherre-enforcement. According to military precedent, he first harangued hisfollowers. 

"Friends and fellow-soldiers, you have for a number of years been ascourge and a terror to arbitrary power. Your valor has been famedabroad and acknowledged, as appears by the advice and orders to me fromthe General Assembly of Connecticut to surprise and take the garrisonnow before us. I now propose to advance before you and in person conductyou through the wicket gate; for we must this morning either quit ourpretensions to valor, or possess ourselves of this fortress in a fewminutes. And inasmuch as it is a desperate attempt, which none but thebravest men dare undertake, I do not urge it on any contrary to hiswill. You that will undertake voluntarily, poise your firelock!"

Needless to state, the firelocks were all "poised"--whatever that maybe--and, led by Allen, a rush was made, the sentry overpowered, andsoon the gallant "83" were standing back to back on the parade-groundwithin the fort, their muskets levelled at the two barracks which, filled with sleeping soldiers, faced each other. 

The commandant was then aroused by loud rapping on his door and thevoice of Allen bidding him come out and surrender the fort. Theastonished officer, half dressed, made his appearance, demanding by whatauthority he was asked to do such a thing. 

A part of Ethan Allen's famous reply: "In the name of Jehovah and theContinental Congress!" was more prophetic than authentic, as the latterearthly tribunal at that time had no existence. 

The hundred cannon and quantities of ammunition found in the fort weresent east, where they proved of great service in the siege of Boston. 

Crown Point, the garrison of St. Johns, many boats, vessels, and aBritish armed schooner soon after fell into the hands of the GreenMountain Boys, thus giving them the full sweep of Lake Champlain, andholding in check any attempts at invasion from that direction. 

Ethan Allen's military instincts and foresight transcended anyexperience and all knowledge he possessed on the subject. He at once sawthe importance of pushing the advantage now gained, by an immediateadvance upon Canada before reinforcements could arrive to strengthen thestrongholds of Montreal and Quebec; a measure which, if adopted, wouldhave changed the whole history of the northern campaign that eventuallyproved so disastrous. 

With the splendid magnanimity of a noble soul and the abnegation of atrue patriot, he addressed the Continental Congress of New York on thesubject, first apologizing for his seeming neglect to consult with thatbody before his attack on Ticonderoga, which was within its province, and explaining the necessity for secrecy, which prompted him. Note thespirit of prophecy breathed in the following words:

"I wish to God America would at this critical juncture exert herselfagreeable to the indignity offered her by a tyrannical ministry. Shemight rise on eagle's wings and mount up to glory, freedom, and immortalhonor if she did but know and exert her strength. Fame is now hoveringover her head. A vast continent must now sink to slavery, poverty, andbondage, or rise to unconquerable freedom, immense wealth, inexpressiblefelicity, and immortal fame. "

He then offers the services of his own men for the purpose, and to raisea regiment of rangers in Northern New York, a proposal which he trustswill not be deemed impertinent. 

[Illustration: Ethan Allen at Ticonderoga. ]

But for some unexplained reason no action was taken on his suggestionsuntil months later, when the conditions had materially changed, makingsuch a campaign exceedingly more difficult. Generals Schuyler andMontgomery were then in command, and to Ethan Allen was given a taskrequiring shrewdness, tact, and great personal influence--to enlist theco-operation or the neutrality of the Canadians in the struggle betweenthe American colonists and the mother country. For weeks he travelled inCanada, "preaching politics" so successfully that he was able toreport a company of 300 Canadian recruits for the American service, andthat 2, 000 more could be enlisted when needed. 

In returning from this expedition he was persuaded by a brother officerinto a step that but for an accident would have been more brilliant thanAllen's former exploit and added fresh laurels to his name as a militaryhero. It was no less than the surprise and capture of Fort Montreal, then garrisoned by 500 men, 40 only of whom were regulars, the remaindervolunteers and Indians. 

It seemed a feasible undertaking. The plan was similar to the seizure ofTiconderoga--the quiet landing of boats under the walls of the fortbefore daybreak and the quick rush of attack. The forces were divided, Allen taking 110 men and landing below the city. The remainder andlarger portion were to cross the river above and then signal the others. Colonel Allen promptly performed his part of the programme, but nosignal greeted his ears, and daylight found him in full view of the fortand unable to retreat. He and his men for two hours bravely resisted theenemy, who sallied out to attack them, but without avail, and they weretaken prisoners. 

The story of Ethan Allen's long captivity, lasting two years and eightmonths, as told by himself, is one of the most interesting narrativesconnected with the Revolutionary war. Loaded with chains, consigned tothe filthy hold of a vessel, with no seat nor bed save a seaman's chest, half starved, tortured by daily indignities, his high courage and bravespirit never faltered. Once, when insulted, he sprang at histormentor--the captain of the ship--and with his shackled hands knockedhim down; and again he bit off the nail that fastened his handcuffs, andby these feats of strength and anger awed his guards into some show ofrespect. 

The method by which he saved himself from a felon's death in England wasworthy the dignity of a veteran diplomat. A letter to the ContinentalCongress, which he knew would never reach its destination, but fall intothe hands of its bitterest enemy, Lord North, contained an account ofhis ill treatment and possible fate, and closed with the request that ifretaliation upon the Tory and other prisoners in its power should befound necessary, it might be exercised not according to his own value orrank, but in proportion to the importance of the cause for which hesuffered. 

The English ministry concluded evidently to treat him henceforth as aprisoner of war entitled to an honorable exchange, rather than a rebeldeserving an ignoble death, and he was returned to America, where he wasconfined, with varieties of usage, in Halifax, and afterward in NewYork. 

While in the latter place, and suffering from hunger and long illhealth, he was approached by a British officer, authorized to offer himthe command of a royalist regiment, and the gift of thousands of acresof land at the close of the war, in any part of the American colonies hemight select, providing he would forsake the patriot cause and take oathof allegiance to the crown. Colonel Allen rejected this overture withgreat scorn, assuring the officer that he had as little land to promisehim as had the devil when making a similar one. 

"Thereupon, " said Allen, "he closed the conversation and turned from mewith an air of dislike, saying I was a bigot. "

An exchange of prisoners at length freed him from a situation so full ofpersonal hardship and mental anguish, and he hastened home to hisfamily, from whom he so long and cruelly had been separated. 

His only son had died in the meantime, and his wife and daughters, notexpecting his arrival, were not at Bennington in time to receive him. But his neighbors and friends flocked in from miles around to give himgreeting, and although it was the Sabbath, a day strictly observed inthose parts, the enthusiasm of the joyful occasion could neither bepostponed nor suppressed, and its expression found vent in the firing ofcannon and happy huzzas. 

The "Hampshire Grants" in his absence had become the full-fledged "Stateof Vermont, " knocking for admission at the doors of the ContinentalCongress. 

Ethan Allen at once was appointed General of the Vermont State Militia, and although he did not again join the American army, his natural giftsof diplomacy were of inestimable service to the country, and the numberof men he could summon at a moment's notice to his command, served tohold in check any attempted raids of the enemy through Canada. He livedeight years after the declaration of peace, dying at the age offifty-one, in Burlington, where he was engaged in farming. 

A little incident never before in print was recently related to thewriter of this sketch by a lady to whom it was told in childhood by anold man who, as a lad, lived on Ethan Allen's farm. It was inillustration of the simplicity of the celebrated hero's private life. 

The farm hands all sat at the table with the family, much to theamusement or astonishment of his frequent guests, who sometimes werewealthy and distinguished and quite unaccustomed to such practicalexhibitions of democracy. One of these had the poor taste to expostulatewith the general, and remarked, "I should think your men would prefer toeat by themselves. "

General Allen feigned to misunderstand the meaning of this, and after amoment's reflection replied, "Thank you very much for calling myattention to it. I see that what has been hearty enough for my familymay not have been for my hard-working help. I will take more noticehereafter to see that they are better served. "

"It was little use, " says my informant, "to try to dictate to EthanAllen. "

[Signature: Gertrude Van Rensselaer Wickham. ]