Joan Of Arc The Maid Of Orleans
At the hour of noon, on a sunny summer's day in the year of our Lord
1425, a young girl of the little village of Domremy, France, stood with
bent head and thoughtful eyes in the small garden attached to her
father's humble home. There was nothing in her appearance to attract a
second glance. Her parents were peasants, her occupation was one of
constant toil, her attire was of the humblest, her life had been
hitherto sp
few sheep afield. None who saw her on that day could have dreamed that
this simple peasant maiden was destined to become one of the most famous
women whose name history records, and that this day, was that of the
beginning of her career.
She had been born at a critical period in history. Her country was in
extremity. For the greater part of a century the dreadful "Hundred
Years' War" had been waged, desolating France, destroying its people by
the thousands, bringing it more and more under the dominion of a foreign
foe. The realm of France had now reached its lowest depth of disaster,
its king uncrowned, its fairest regions overrun,--here by the English,
there by the Burgundians,--the whole kingdom in peril of being taken and
reduced to vassalage. Never before nor since had the need of a
deliverer been so vitally felt. The deliverer chosen of heaven was the
young peasant girl who walked that summer noon in her father's humble
garden at Domremy.
Young as she was, she had seen the horrors of war. Four years before the
village had been plundered and burnt, its defenders slain or wounded,
the surrounding country devastated. The story of the suffering and peril
of France was in all French ears. Doubtless little Joan's soul burned
with sympathy for her beloved land as she moved thoughtfully up and down
the garden paths, asking herself if God could longer permit such wrongs
and disasters to continue.
Suddenly, to her right, in the direction of the small village church,
Joan heard a voice calling her, and, looking thither, she was surprised
and frightened at seeing a great light. The voice, continued; her
courage returned; "it was a worthy voice," she tells us, one that could
come only from angels. "I saw them with my bodily eyes," she afterwards
said. "When they departed from me I wept and would fain have had them
take me with them." Again and again came to her the voices and the
forms; they haunted her; and still the burden of their exhortation was
the same, that she should "go to France to deliver the kingdom." The
girl grew dreamy. She became lost in meditation, full of deep thoughts
and budding purposes, wrought by the celestial voices into high hopes
and noble aspirations, possessed with the belief that she had been
chosen by heaven to deliver France from its woes and to disconcert its
enemies.
The times were fitting for such a conception. Two forces ruled mens'
minds,--ambition and trust in the supernatural. The powerful
depended upon their own arms for aid; the weak and miserable turned to
Christ and the Virgin for support; there were those who looked to see
God in bodily person; His angels and ministers were thought to deal
directly with man; it was an age in which force and fraud alike were
dominant, in which men were governed in their bodies by the sword, in
their souls by their belief in and dread of the supernatural, and in
which enthusiasm had higher sway than thought. It was enthusiastic
belief in her divine mission that moved Joan of Arc. It was trust in her
as God's agent of deliverance that filled the soul of France with new
spirit, and unnerved her foes with enfeebling fears. Joan's mission and
her age were well associated. In the nineteenth century she would have
been covered with ridicule; in the fifteenth she led France to victory.
Three years passed away. Joan's faith in her mission had grown with the
years. Some ridiculed, many believed her. The story of her angelic
voices was spreading. At length came the event that moved her to action.
The English laid siege to Orleans, the most important city in the
kingdom after Paris and Rouen. If this were lost, all might be lost.
Some of the bravest warriors of France fought in its defence; but the
garrison was weak, the English were strong, their works surrounded the
walls; daily the city was more closely pressed; unless relieved it must
fall.
"I must go to raise the siege of Orleans," said Joan to Robert de
Baudricourt, commander of Vaucouleurs, with whom she had gained speech.
"I will go, should I have to wear off my legs to the knee."
"I must be with the king before the middle of Lent," she said later to
John of Metz, a knight serving with Baudricourt; "for none in the world,
nor kings, nor dukes, nor daughter of the Scottish king can recover the
kingdom of France; there is no help but in me. Assuredly I would far
rather be spinning beside my poor mother, for this other is not my
condition; but I must go and do my work because my Lord wills that I
should do it."
"Who is your Lord?" asked John of Metz.
"The Lord God."
"By my faith," cried the knight, as he seized her hands. "I will take
you to the king, God helping. When will you set out?"
"Rather now than to-morrow; rather to-morrow than later," said Joan.
On the 6th of March, 1429, the devoted girl arrived at Chinon, in
Touraine, where the king then was. She had journeyed nearly a hundred
and fifty leagues, through a country that was everywhere a theatre of
war, without harm or insult. She was dressed in a coat of mail, bore
lance and sword, and had a king's messenger and an archer as her train.
This had been deemed necessary to her safety in those distracted times.
Interest and curiosity went before her. Baudricourt's letters to the
king had prepared him for something remarkable. Certain incidents which
happened during Joan's journey, and which were magnified by report into
miracles, added to the feeling in her favor. The king and his council
doubted if it were wise to give her an audience. That a peasant girl
could succor a kingdom in extremity seemed the height of absurdity. But
something must be done. Orleans was in imminent danger. If it were
taken, the king might have to fly to Spain or Scotland. He had no money.
His treasury, it is said, held only four crowns. He had no troops to
send to the besieged city. Drowning men catch at straws. The people of
Orleans had heard of Joan and clamored for her; with her, they felt
sure, would come superhuman aid. The king consented to receive her.
It was the 9th of March, 1429. The hour was evening. Candles dimly
lighted the great hall of the king's palace at Chinon, in which nearly
three hundred knights were gathered. Charles VII., the king, was among
them, distinguished by no mark or sign, more plainly dressed than most
of those around him, standing retired in the throng.
Joan was introduced. The story--in which we cannot put too much
faith--says that she walked straight to the king through the crowd of
showily-dressed lords and knights, though she had never seen him
before, and said, in quiet and humble tones,--
"Gentle dauphin" (she did not think it right to call him king until he
had been crowned), "my name is Joan the maid; the King of Heaven sendeth
you word by me that you shall be anointed and crowned in the city of
Rheims, and shall be lieutenant of the King of Heaven, who is king of
France. It is God's pleasure that our enemies, the English, should
depart to their own country; if they depart not, evil will come to them,
and the kingdom is sure to continue yours."
What followed is shrouded in doubt. Some say that Joan told Charles
things that none but himself had known. However this be, the king
determined to go to Poitiers and have this seeming messenger from Heaven
questioned strictly as to her mission, by learned theologians of the
University of Paris there present.
"In the name of God," said Joan, "I know that I shall have rough work
there, but my Lord will help me. Let us go, then, for God's sake."
They went. It was an august and learned assembly into which the
unlettered girl was introduced, yet for two hours she answered all their
questions with simple earnestness and shrewd wit.
"In what language do the voices speak to you?" asked Father Seguin, the
Dominican, "a very sour man," says the chronicle.
"Better than yours," answered Joan. The doctor spoke a provincial
dialect.
"Do you believe in God?" he asked, sharply.
"More than you do," answered Joan, with equal sharpness.
"Well," he answered, "God forbids belief in you without some sign
tending thereto; I shall not give the king advice to trust men-at-arms
to you and put them in peril on your simple word."
"In the name of God," replied Joan, "I am not come to Poitiers to show
signs. Take me to Orleans and I will give you signs of what I am sent
for. Let me have ever so few men-at-arms given me and I will go to
Orleans."
For a fortnight the questioning was continued. In the end the doctors
pronounced in Joan's favor. Two of them were convinced of her divine
mission. They declared that she was the virgin foretold in ancient
prophecies, notably in those of Merlin. All united in saying that "there
had been discovered in her naught but goodness, humility, devotion,
honesty, and simplicity."
Charles decided. The Maid should go to Orleans. A suit of armor was made
to fit her. She was given the following of a war-chief. She had a white
banner made, which was studded with lilies, and bore on it a figure of
God seated on clouds and bearing a globe, while below were two kneeling
angels, above were the words "Jesu Maria." Her sword she required the
king to provide. One would be found, she said, marked with five crosses,
behind the altar in the chapel of St. Catharine de Fierbois, where she
had stopped on her arrival in Chinon. Search was made, and the sword was
found.
And now five weeks were passed in weary preliminaries, despite the fact
that Orleans pleaded earnestly for succor. Joan had friends at court,
but she had powerful enemies, whose designs her coming had thwarted, and
it was they who secretly opposed her plans. At length, on the 27th of
April, the march to Orleans began.
On the 29th the army of relief arrived before the city. There were ten
or twelve thousand men in the train, guarding a heavy convoy of food.
The English covered the approach to the walls, the only unguarded
passage being beyond the Loire, which ran by the town. To the surprise
and vexation of Joan her escort determined to cross the stream.
"Was it you," she asked Dunois, who had left the town to meet her, "who
gave counsel for making me come hither by this side of the river, and
not the direct way, over there where Talbot and the English are?"
"Yes; such was the opinion of the wisest captains," he replied.
"In the name of God, the counsel of my Lord is wiser than yours. You
thought to deceive me, and you have deceived yourselves, for I am
bringing you the best succor that ever had knight, or town, or city, and
that is, the good-will of God and succor from the King of Heaven; not,
assuredly, for love of me; it is from God only that it proceeds."
She wished to remain with the troops until they could enter the city,
but Dunois urged her to cross the stream at once, with such portion of
the convoy as the boats might convey immediately.
"Orleans would count it for naught," he said, "if they received the
victuals without the Maid."
She decided to go, and crossed the stream with two hundred men-at-arms
and part of the supplies. At eight o'clock that evening she entered the
city, on horseback, in full armor, her banner preceding her, beside her
Dunois, behind her the captains of the garrison and several of the most
distinguished citizens. The population hailed her coming with shouts of
joy, crowding on the procession, torch in hand, so closely that her
banner was set on fire. Joan made her horse leap forward with the skill
of a practised horseman, and herself extinguished the flame.
It was a remarkable change in her life. Three years before, a simple
peasant child, she had been listening to the "voices" in her father's
garden at Domremy. Now, the associate of princes and nobles, and the
last hope of the kingdom, she was entering a beleaguered city at the
head of an army, amid the plaudits of the population, and followed by
the prayers of France. She was but seventeen years old, still a mere
girl, yet her coming had filled her countrymen with hope and depressed
their foes with dread. Such was the power of religious belief in that
good mediaeval age.
The arrival of the Maid was announced to the besiegers by a herald, who
bore a summons from her to the English, bidding them to leave the land
and give up the keys of the cities which they had wrongfully taken,
under peril of being visited by God's judgment. They detained and
threatened to burn the herald, as a warning to Joan, the sorceress, as
they deemed her. Yet such was their terror that they allowed the armed
force still outside the city to enter unmolested, through their
intrenchments.
The warning Joan had sent them by herald she now repeated in person,
mounting a bastion and bidding the English, in a loud voice, to begone,
else woe and shame would come upon them.
The commandant of the bastille opposite, Sir William Gladesdale,
answered with insults, bidding her to go back and mind her cows, and
saying that the French were miscreants.
"You speak falsely!" cried Joan; "and in spite of yourselves shall soon
depart hence; many of your people shall be slain; but as for you, you
shall not see it."
Nor did he; he was drowned a few days afterwards, a shot from Orleans
destroying a drawbridge on which he stood, with many companions.
What succeeded we may tell briefly. Inspired by the intrepid Maid, the
besieged boldly attacked the British forts, and took them one after
another. The first captured was that of St. Loup, which was carried by
Joan and her troops, despite the brave defence of the English. The next
day, the 6th of May, other forts were assailed and taken, the men of
Orleans, led by Joan, proving irresistible. The English would not face
her in the open field, and under her leadership the French intrepidly
stormed their ramparts.
A memorable incident occurred during the assault on the works south of
the city. Here Joan seized a scaling ladder, and was mounting it herself
when an arrow struck and wounded her. She was taken aside, her armor
removed, and she herself pulled out the arrow, though with some tears
and signs of faintness. Her wound being dressed, she retired into a
vineyard to rest and pray. Discouraged by her absence, the French began
to give way. The captains ordered the retreat to be sounded.
"My God, we shall soon be inside," cried Joan to Dunois. "Give your
people a little rest; eat and drink."
In a short time she resumed her arms, mounted her horse, ordered her
banner to be displayed, and put herself at the head of the storming
party. New courage inspired the French; the English, who had seen her
fall, and were much encouraged thereby, beheld her again in arms with
superstitious dread. Joan pressed on; the English retreated; the fort
was taken without another blow. Back to Orleans marched the triumphant
Maid, the people wild with joy. All through the night the bells rang out
glad peals, and the Te Deum was chanted. Much reason had they for joy:
Orleans was saved.
It was on a Saturday that these events had taken place. At daybreak of
the next day, Sunday, May 8, the English advanced to the moats of the
city as if to offer battle. Some of the French leaders wished to accept
their challenge, but Joan ran to the city gates, and bade them desist
"for the love and honor of holy Sunday."
"It is God's good-will and pleasure," she said, "that they be allowed to
get them gone if they be minded to go away; if they attack you, defend
yourselves boldly; you will be the masters."
An altar was raised at her suggestion; mass was celebrated, and hymns of
thanksgiving chanted. While this was being done, the English turned and
marched away, with banners flying. Their advance had been an act of
bravado.
"See," cried Joan, "are the English turning to you their faces, or
verily their backs? Let them go; my Lord willeth not that there be any
fighting this day; you shall have them another time."
Her words were true; the English were in full retreat; the siege of
Orleans was raised. So hastily had they gone that they had left their
sick and many of their prisoners behind, while the abandoned works were
found to be filled with provisions and military supplies. The Maid had
fulfilled her mission. France was saved.
History contains no instance to match this. A year before, Joan of Arc,
a low-born peasant girl, had occupied herself in tending sheep and
spinning flax; her hours of leisure being given to dreams and visions.
Now, clad in armor and at the head of an army, she was gazing in triumph
on the flight of a hostile army, driven from its seemingly assured prey
by her courage, intrepidity, and enthusiasm, while veteran soldiers
obeyed her commands, experienced leaders yielded to her judgment. Never
had the world seen its like. The Maid of Orleans had made her name
immortal.
Three days afterward Joan was with the king, at Tours. She advanced to
meet him with her banner in her hand, her head uncovered, and making a
deep obeisance over her horse's head. Charles met her with the deepest
joy, taking off his cap and extending his hand, while his face beamed
with warm gratitude.
She urged him to march at once against his flying enemies, and to start
without delay for Rheims, there to be crowned, that her mission might be
fulfilled.
"I shall hardly last more than a year," she said, with prophetic
insight; "we must think of working right well this year, for there is
much to do."
Charles hesitated; hesitation was natural to him. He had many advisers
who opposed Joan's counsel. There were no men, no money, for so great a
journey, they said. Councils were held, but nothing was decided on. Joan
grew impatient and impetuous. Many supported her. Great lords from all
parts of France promised their aid. One of these, Guy de Laval, thus
pictures the Maid:
"It seems a thing divine to look on her and listen to her. I saw her
mount on horseback, armed all in white armor, save her head, and with a
little axe in her hand, on a great black charger, which, at the door of
her quarters, was very restive and would not let out her mount. Then
said she, 'Lead him to the cross,' which was in front of the neighboring
church, on the road. There she mounted him without his moving, and as if
he were tied up; and turning towards the door of the church, which was
very nigh at hand, she said, in quite a womanly voice, 'You priests and
churchmen, make procession and prayers to God!' Then she resumed her
road, saying, 'Push forward, push forward!'"
Push forward it was. The army was infected with her enthusiasm,
irresistible with belief in her. On the 10th of June she led them to the
siege of the fortified places which lay around Orleans. One by one they
fell. On Sunday, June 12, Jargeau was taken. Beaugency next fell.
Nothing could withstand the impetuosity of the Maid and her followers,
Patay was assailed.
"Have you good spurs?" she asked her captains.
"Ha! must we fly, then!" they demanded.
"No, surely; but there will be need to ride boldly; we shall give a good
account of the English, and our spurs will serve us famously in pursuing
them."
The French attacked, by order of Joan.
"In the name of God, we must fight," she said. "Though the English were
suspended from the clouds, we should have them, for God has sent us to
punish them. The gentle king shall have to-day the greatest victory he
has ever had; my counsel has told me that they are ours."
Her voices counselled well. The battle was short, the victory decisive.
The English were put to flight; Lord Talbot, their leader, was taken.
"Lord Talbot, this is not what you expected this morning," said the Duke
d'Alencon.
"It is the fortune of war," answered Talbot, coolly.
Joan returned to the king and demanded that they should march instantly
for Rheims. He hesitated still. His counsellors advised delay. The
impatient Maid left the court and sought the army. She was mistress of
the situation. The king and his court were obliged to follow her. On
June 29 the army, about twelve thousand strong, began the march to
Rheims.
There were obstacles on the road, but all gave way before her. The
strong town of Troyes, garrisoned by English and Burgundians, made a
show of resistance; but when her banner was displayed, and the assault
began, she being at the head of the troops, the garrison lost heart and
surrendered. On went the army, all opposition vanishing. On the 16th of
July, King Charles entered Rheims. The coronation was fixed for the
following day. "Make good use of my time," Joan repeated to the king,
"for I shall hardly last longer than a year."
In less than three months she had driven the English from before
Orleans, captured from them city after city, raised the sinking cause of
France into a hopeful state, and now had brought the prince to be
crowned in that august cathedral which had witnessed the coronation of
so many kings. On the 17th the ceremony took place with much grandeur
and solemnity. Joan rode between Dunois and the Archbishop of Rheims,
while the air rang with the acclamations of the immense throng.
"I have accomplished that which my Lord commanded me to do," said Joan,
"to raise the siege of Orleans and have the gentle king crowned. I
should like it well if it should please Him to send me back to my father
and mother, to keep their sheep and their cattle and do that which was
my wont."
It would have been well for her if she had done so, for her future
career was one of failure and misfortune. She kept in arms at the king's
desire. In September she attacked Paris, and was defeated, she herself
being pierced through the thigh with an arrow. It was her first repulse.
During the winter we hear little of her. Her family was ennobled by
royal decree, and the district of Domremy made free from all tax or
tribute. In the spring the enemy attacked Compiegne. Joan threw herself
into the town to save it. She had not been there many hours when, in a
sortie, the French were repulsed. Joan and some of her followers
remained outside fighting, while the drawbridge was raised and the
portcullis dropped by the frightened commandant. The Burgundians crowded
around her. Twenty of them surrounded her horse. One, a Picard archer,
"a tough fellow and mighty sour," seized her and flung her to the
ground. She was a prisoner in their hands.
The remaining history of Joan of Arc presents a striking picture of the
character of the age. It is beyond our purpose to give it. It will
suffice to say that she was tried by the English as a sorceress, dealt
with unfairly in every particular, and in the end, on May 30, 1431, was
burned at the stake. Even as the flames rose she affirmed that the
voices which she had obeyed came from God. Her voice was raised in
prayer as death approached, the last word heard from her lips being
"Jesus!"
"Would that my soul were where I believe the soul of that woman is!"
cried two of her judges, on seeing her die.
And Tressart, secretary to Henry VI. of England, said, on his return
from the place of execution, "We are all lost; we have burned a saint!"
A saint she was, an inspired one. She died, but France was saved.
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In the struggle of the great families of Japan for precedence, the lords of the Fujiwara held the civil power of the realm, while the shoguns, or generals, were chosen from the Taira and Minamoto clans. Bred to arms, leading the armies of the empire... How The White Ship Sailed
Henry I., king of England, had made peace with France. Then to Normandy went the king with a great retinue, that he might have Prince William, his only and dearly-loved son, acknowledged as his successor by the Norman nobles and married to the dau... How Tristram Befooled Dinadan
Never were two happier lovers than Tristram and Isolde at Joyous Gard. Their days were spent in feasting and merriment, Isolde's heart overflowing with joy to be free from the jealousy of her ill-tempered spouse, and Tristram's to have his lady lo... How Troy Was Taken
The far-famed Helen, wife of King Menelaus of Sparta, was the most beautiful woman in the world. And from her beauty and faithlessness came the most celebrated of ancient wars, with death and disaster to numbers of famous heroes and the final ruin... Ivan The First Of The Czars
The victory of the Don did not free Russia from the Tartar yoke. Two years afterwards the principality of Moscow was overrun and ravaged by a lieutenant of the mighty Tamerlane, the all-conquering successor of Genghis Khan. Several times Moscow wa... Ivan The Terrible
In seeking examples of the excesses to which absolute power may lead, we usually name the wicked emperors of Rome, among whom Nero stands most notorious as a monster of cruelty. Modern history has but one Nero in its long lines of kings and empero... Jingu The Amazon Of Japan
To-day the women of Japan are kept in seclusion and take no part in affairs of state. This does not seem to have been always the case. In the far past, we are told, women often rose to posts of honor and dignity, and some even filled the mikado's th... Joan Of Arc The Maid Of Orleans
At the hour of noon, on a sunny summer's day in the year of our Lord 1425, a young girl of the little village of Domremy, France, stood with bent head and thoughtful eyes in the small garden attached to her father's humble home. There was nothing in... John Morgan's Famous Raid
The romance of war dwells largely upon the exploits of partisan leaders, men with a roving commission to do business on their own account, and in whose ranks are likely to gather the dare-devils of the army, those who love to come and go as they ple... Jugurtha The Purchaser Of Rome
Masinissa, the valiant old king of Numidia, who had ravaged Carthage in its declining days, left his kingdom to his three sons. On the death of Micipsa, the last remaining of these, in 118 B.C., he, in turn, left the kingdom to his two sons. They we... Kaotsou And The Dynasty Of The Hans
After the death of the great Hoangti, two of his generals fought for the throne of China,--Lieou Pang, who represents, in the Chinese annals, intellect, and Pa Wang, representing brute force, uninspired by thought. Destiny, if we can credit the foll... Kearney's Daring Expedition And The Conquest Of New Mexico
We have told the story of the remarkable expedition of Vasquez de Coronado from Mexico northward to the prairies of Kansas. We have now to tell the story of an expedition which took place three centuries later from this prairie land to the once fa... King Abul Hassan And The Alcaide Of Gibraltar
Muley Abul Hassan, the warlike king of Granada, weary of having his lands raided and his towns taken, resolved to repay the Christians in kind. The Duke of Medina Sidonia had driven him from captured Alhama. He owed this mighty noble a grudge, and... King Alfred And The Danes
In his royal villa at Chippenham, on the left bank of the gently-flowing Avon, sat King Alfred, buried in his books. It was the evening of the 6th of January, in the year 878, a thousand years and more backward in time. The first of English kings ... King Henry Of Navarre
For the first time in its history France had a Protestant king. Henry III. had died by the knife of an assassin. Henry of Navarre was named by him as his successor. But the Catholic chiefs of France, in particular the leaders of the League which had... King Valdemar I And Bishop Absolon
The most brilliant period in the history of Denmark was that of the reigns of the Valdemars, and especially of Valdemar I. and his sons, whose names and memories are still cherished in that kingdom, the Danes regarding them as the greatest and best ... King's Mountain And The Patriots Of Tennessee
Never was the South in so desperate a plight as in the autumn months of that year of peril, 1780. The British had made themselves masters of Georgia, and South Carolina and North Carolina were strongly threatened. The boastful Gates had been defeate... Kosciusko And The Fall Of Poland
Of the several nations that made up the Europe of the eighteenth century, one, the kingdom of Poland, vanished before the nineteenth century began. Destitute of a strong central government, the scene of continual anarchy among the turbulent nobles... Lantaro The Boy Hero Of The Araucanians
The river Biobio, in Southern Chili, was for centuries the boundary between liberty and oppression in South America. South of it lay the land of the Araucanians, that brave and warlike people who preserved their independence against the whites, th... Las Navas De Tolosa
On the 16th of July, 1212, was fought the great battle which broke the Moorish power in Spain. During the two centuries before fresh streams of invasion had flowed in from Africa to yield new life to the Moslem power. From time to time in the Moha... Lieutenant Hobson And The Sinking Of The Merrimac
About three o'clock of a dark morning, whose deep gloom shrouded alike the shores and waters of Cuba's tropic isle, a large craft left the side of the "New York," the flag-ship of Admiral Sampson's fleet off Santiago, and glided towards the throat... Lord Dunmore And The Gunpowder
In the city of Williamsburg, the old capital of Virginia, there still stands a curious old powder magazine, built nearly two centuries ago by Governor Spotswood, the hero of the "Golden Horseshoe" adventure. It is a strong stone building, with eight... Louis The Politic And Charles The Bold
In the latter half of the fifteenth century Europe had two notable sovereigns, Louis XI. of France and Charles the Bold, or Charles the Rash, of Burgundy; the one famous in history for his intricate policy, the other for his lack of anything that co... Love's Knight-errant
On the 18th of February, 1623, two young men, Tom and John Smith by name, plainly dressed and attended by one companion in the attire of an upper-servant, rode to the ferry at Gravesend, on the Thames. They wore heavy beards, which did not look al... Luther And The Indulgences
Late in the month of April, in the year 1521, an open wagon containing two persons was driven along one of the roads of Germany, the horse being kept at his best pace, while now and then one of the occupants looked back as if in apprehension. This... Lycurgus And The Spartan Laws
Of the many nations between which the small peninsula of Greece was divided, much the most interesting were those whose chief cities were Athens and Sparta. These are the states with whose doings history is full, and without which the history of a... Maceo And The Struggle For Cuban Independence
On the 24th of February, 1895, the people of Havana, the capital of Cuba, were startled by a report that rebels were in the field, a band of twenty-four having appeared in arms at Ybarra, in the province of Matanzas. Other small bands were soon he... Magnus The Good And Harold Hardruler
After the death of King Olaf the Saint, and after the Danes had for some years ruled over Norway, Olaf's son Magnus, who had been left in Russia, was brought to Norway and proclaimed king. The Danes had oppressed the people, and had put over them a ... Manila And Santiago
The record of Spain has not been glorious at sea. She has but one great victory, that of Lepanto, to offer in evidence against a number of great defeats, such as those of the Armada, Cape St. Vincent, and Trafalgar. In 1898 two more defeats, those... Maximilian Of Austria And His Empire In Mexico
It is interesting, in view of the total conquest and submission of the Indians in Mexico, that the final blow for freedom in that country should have been made by an Indian of pure native blood. His name was Benito Juarez, and his struggle for lib... Mazeppa The Cossack Chief
Among the romantic characters of history none have attained higher celebrity than the hero of our present tale, whose remarkable adventure, often told in story, has been made immortal in Lord Byron's famous poem of "Mazeppa." Those who wish to rea... Morgan The Freebooter And The Raid On Panama
During the seventeenth century the Spanish Main was beset with a horde of freebooters or buccaneers, as they called themselves, to whose fierce attacks the treasure-ships bound for Spain were constantly exposed, and who did not hesitate to assail ... Napoleon's Return From Elba
All was quiet in Elba. Nothing was talked of at Porto-Ferrajo but the ball to be given by Pauline, the sister of Napoleon, who had exchanged his imperial dominion over half Europe for kingship over that little Mediterranean island. Evening came. The... Nobunaga And The Fall Of The Buddhists
For more than two centuries the Ashikaga lorded it over Japan, as the Hojo had done before them, and the mikados were tools in their strong hands. Then arose a man who overthrew this powerful clan. This man, Nobunaga by name, was a descendant of Kiy... Olaf Dethrones Odin And Dies A Hero
Earl Haakon was the last heathen king of Norway. Olaf, the new king, was a zealous Christian and was determined to introduce the new faith. And this was done not in the mild and gentle way in which Haakon the Good had attempted it, but with all the ... Olaf The Saint And His Work For Christ
The story of Olaf the Saint, the Norse king who comes next into our view, illustrates the barbarous character of the heathen people with whom we are dealing. Few warriors in those days died in their beds, death coming to them in some more violent fo... Oleg The Varangian
For ages and ages, none can say how many, the great plain of Russia existed as a nursery of tribes, some wandering with their herds, some dwelling in villages and tilling their fields, but all warlike and all barbarians. And over this plain at int... On The Road To Lonazep
The four knights rode onward in company until they came in sight of the castle of Lonazep, where they saw striking preparations for the tournament. For not less than four hundred tents and pavilions covered the plain outside the great circle of th... On The Track Of A Traitor
While Major Andr['e] was dying the death of a spy, General Arnold, his tempter and betrayer, was living the life of a cherished traitor, in the midst of the British army at New York. This was a state of affairs far from satisfactory to the Americ... Paez The Llanero Chief And The War For Freedom
On the 3d of June, 1819, General Morillo, the commander of the Spanish forces in Venezuela, found himself threatened in his camp by a party of one hundred and fifty daring horsemen, who had swum the Orinoco and galloped like centaurs upon his line... Patrick Henry The Herald Of The Revolution
There was a day in the history of the Old Dominion when a great lawsuit was to be tried,--a great one, that is, to the people of Hanover County, where it was heard, and to the colony of Virginia, though not to the country at large. The Church of Eng... Paul Revere's Ride
It was night at Boston, the birthnight of one of the leading events in the history of the world. The weather was balmy and clear. Most of the good citizens of the town were at their homes; many of them doubtless in their beds; for early hours wer... Pelistes The Defender Of Cordova
No sooner had Tarik defeated the Christian army on the fatal field of Sidonia than he sent out detachments of horsemen in all directions, hoping to win the leading cities of Spain before the people should recover from their terror. One of these de...