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THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 AT CHAPEL HILL 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 Betty Bell 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2012 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/littlestoriesofeOOIync 
 
TO 
 
 Norman Clarke 3Ljmrfj 
 
 anS 
 jjrances Hgndj 
 
 THESE LITTLE STORIES 
 ARE AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 
 
Victoria at the Age of Twelve. 
 
 Frontispiece 
 
LITTLE 
 STORIES OF ENGLAND 
 
 BY 
 
 MAUDE BARROWS DUTTON 
 
 AUTHOR OF " LITTLE STORIES OF FRANCE," " LITTLE STORIES 
 
 OF GERMANY," "HUNTING AND FISHING," "IN FIELD 
 
 AND PASTURE" 
 
 WITH A PREFACE BY 
 
 FRANK M. McMURRY 
 
 PROFESSOR OF ELEMENTARY EDUCATION, TEACHERS 
 COLLEGE, COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY 
 
 NEW YORK •:• CINCINNATI •:• CHICAGO 
 
 AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 
 
Copyright, 1911, by 
 MAUDE BARROWS DUTTON LYNCH. 
 
 Entered at Stationers' Hall, London. 
 
 little stories of england. 
 W. P. I 
 
PREFACE 
 
 The common school curriculum has been broad- 
 ened during the last generation, until the number 
 of subjects in the weekly program doubles and 
 sometimes triples that of former days. And while 
 there is serious danger of dissipation now, no one 
 questions the general wisdom of this change. In- 
 deed, any pupil who confines himself even now 
 to the prescribed course of study is leading alto- 
 gether too narrow a life. The textbooks, no matter 
 how numerous and varied, are only a text after all, 
 and a good portion of a young person's ideas should 
 come from other sources than the immediate school 
 instruction. 
 
 Again, one weakness of the school touches re- 
 views. After having once presented valuable topics, 
 it lacks variety of ways of reviewing and thereby 
 fixing 'them as permanent possessions. 
 
 This book aims to meet both of these needs ; 
 and in my estimation, it meets them admirably. 
 It introduces children to many topics of common 
 interest that are not found in any ordinary course 
 
 5 
 
of study. And it reviews many others in a delight- 
 ful manner. 
 
 There are two reasons why such books as this 
 may well occasionally receive a period of the regu- 
 lar school time. In that way only will the impor- 
 tance of general reading be properly impressed upon 
 many pupils. Only in that way, too, will the 
 teacher have opportunity to give needed ideas about 
 the proper method of general reading. Textbooks 
 in school are usually covered so slowly that children 
 rebel if they have preserved enough individuality 
 to harbor ideas of their own. And, as a conse- 
 quence, any books that they are free to read in 
 their own way they cover altogether too rapidly. 
 They need to learn a middle way. By reading such 
 stories as these with a class, or by talking them 
 over one by one with a class after the latter have 
 read them, the teacher can give many valuable facts 
 about method that will influence all later general 
 reading. Since general reading of books, maga- 
 zines, and papers, as distinguished from strenuous 
 study of a particular text, constitutes the main part 
 of reading for most persons after their school is 
 past, the magnitude of this matter is easily apparent. 
 
 F. M. McMURRY. 
 
 Teachers College, 
 
 Columbia University. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 The White-cliffed Island 
 
 Caradoc 
 
 The Coming of the English . 
 
 King Arthur 
 
 How the Story of Christ was told in Englan 
 King Alfred, England's Darling 
 Cedmon, the First English Singer 
 
 Canute, the Danish King 
 
 William the Conqueror 
 
 King Henry and the White Ship 
 
 Thomas a Becket 
 
 Richard I — England's Royal Crusader 
 Robin Hood of Sherwood Forest 
 John and the Great Charter 
 Edward I, the Hammer of the Scots 
 
 The Black Prince 
 
 Chaucer and the Canterbury Pilgrims 
 
 Madcap Harry 
 
 Wat Tyler and the Peasant Revolt . 
 The Last of the Barons 
 William Caxton . . . 
 
 Bluff King Hal 
 
 Queen Elizabeth ..... 
 
 7 
 
8 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Spanish Armada 160 
 
 Spenser and the Faerie Queen 166 
 
 Shakespeare .171 
 
 The Cousins from Scotland 179 
 
 Oliver Cromwell . . . . 186 
 
 The Pilot of the State 192 
 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds 199 
 
 Horatio Nelson 205 
 
 Wellington, the Iron Duke. ...... 212 
 
 George III 218 
 
 Charles Dickens 224 
 
 Queen Victoria 231 
 
 Edwin Landseer 238 
 
 Edward VII 249 
 
LITTLE STORIES OF ENGLAND 
 
 THE WHITE-CLIFFED ISLAND 
 
 The first story of England was written fifty years 
 before Christ was born. It was written long before 
 England bore the name of England ; long before the 
 first words of the English language had been formed ; 
 long before people had learned how to make pens 
 and paper. Julius Caesar, the great Roman general, 
 wrote the story. He wrote it in his own language, 
 Latin, cutting the words into a wax-covered tablet 
 with a hard-pointed stylus. It was a part of his 
 diary, that he kept faithfully, to tell the Romans of 
 the strange lands that he had visited and the strange 
 peoples whom he had conquered in battle. 
 
 For Julius Caesar was a wonderful soldier. He 
 grew up in Rome in the days when the dream in the 
 heart of every boy was to be strong enough and brave 
 enough to march some day at the head of a Roman 
 legion. To the north and to the south of Rome, 
 over the mountains and down to the sea, ran the hard 
 white roads that stretched out from the city like the 
 spokes of a great wheel. Many a time the boy 
 
10 
 
 Julius watched the legions, the swift chariots, the 
 standard bearers carrying the Roman Eagles, the 
 long lines of soldiers, the flying banners, going forth 
 to add new glory to the name of Rome. Many a 
 time the man Caesar marched forth at the head of 
 a legion and brought his armies back laden with 
 spoils. It was under his leadership that the western 
 part of Europe, which was then called Gaul, was 
 turned into a Roman province and forced to pay a 
 yearly tribute to this greedy Italian city. 
 
 Some of the people of Gaul first told Caesar about 
 the island of Britain not far from the mainland. 
 They knew little about it except that now and again 
 when the weather was fair their merchants ventured 
 across the water to exchange their goods for corn 
 or cattle. As Caesar marched alone: the coast of 
 Gaul, he saw for himself the white cliffs of the island 
 shining through the sea fog. His eyes were as sharp 
 and piercing as an eagle's, but they could not. see 
 what lay beyond those white cliffs. He felt that his 
 work for Rome would not be done until he had set 
 up her standard on this island. 
 
 At the end of August, in the year 55 B.C., Caesar 
 set sail at midnight. Two legions of soldiers sailed 
 with him. They were sturdy, strong-hearted men. 
 Each man wore a heavy helmet, breastplate, and 
 shield, and carried a sword, javelin, and dagger. 
 
II 
 
 Morning found the Romans near the coast of 
 
 Britain. The chalk cliffs looked different now. 
 
 They were alive with warriors. Crowds of tall men 
 
 clad in skins and with long streaming hair lined the 
 
 coast. Chariots dashed back and forth, driven at a 
 
 mad speed. With the roaring of the waves mingled 
 
 the war chants of 
 
 the white-robed 
 
 Druid priests. 
 
 Wild horsemen 
 
 plunged into the 
 
 sea and hurled 
 
 their lances at the 
 
 Roman galleys. 
 
 As the ships 
 
 attempted to land, a shower of flint-tipped arrows fell 
 
 upon them. More than this, the wind and the tide 
 
 were against the Romans. The only way to reach 
 
 the shore was to wade through the shallow water. 
 
 For a moment the Romans hesitated. Then the 
 standard bearer of the Tenth Legion, holding the 
 .bronze eagle high above his head, sprang into the 
 waves shouting, " Follow me, fellow soldiers, if you 
 would not betray the Roman Eagle into the hands 
 
 British Chariot. 
 
 Of th 
 
 e enemy 
 
 With a shout the men obeyed him. A wild, dis- 
 orderly battle ensued. The Britons were fearless, 
 
12 
 
 but they could not hold out against the trained army 
 of Caesar. Still Caesar saw that his forces were not 
 strong enough to conquer the island. Content with 
 winning the first battle, he soon afterward returned 
 to Gaul. 
 
 The Landing of Caesar. 
 
 The next summer he came again to Britain. This 
 time his eight hundred ships and galleys, filled with 
 five legions of soldiers, sailed with him. To the 
 Britons the whole sea seemed filled with ships. 
 They fled, leaving Caesar to land unharmed. Caesar 
 followed them inland, fought more battles, won 
 more victories, and, after forcing Britain to agree to 
 pay tribute to Rome, withdrew. 
 
13 
 
 This Roman conquest meant little to Britain. 
 Still, it is from Caesar's diary that we first hear about 
 the white-cliffed island. It was a land, Caesar tells 
 us, of vast forests, flat, barren moors, and great 
 marshes. The people were terrible to look upon. 
 Their eyes were blue, and their yellow hair hung 
 about their shoulders uncut. They wore no gar- 
 ments but skins of animals, and they spent their 
 days either hunting or fighting, planting grain or 
 minding their flocks. Their homes were mud huts 
 hidden in the forests. The most savage tribes of all, 
 the Picts and the Scots, lived like robbers in the far 
 north. 
 
 The Britons believed that the woods and fens 
 were full of goblins and fairies. Every river was 
 protected by good fairies and haunted by evil ones. 
 The priests of the Britons were called Druids. They 
 dressed in flowing white garments, and their chief 
 wore a golden box hung about his neck, which held 
 a magic serpent's egg. The Druids went into battle 
 with the soldiers, and cheered on the fighting by 
 their chants. They were also the judges of all dis- 
 putes. They had no books of laws, but the old 
 priests taught the young ones all the customs of 
 the people, and the little that they knew themselves 
 about herbs, about the planting of grain, and about 
 the stars. These Druids taught the people that 
 
14 
 
 there was one very great and powerful God who had 
 made them all and they worshiped this God in the 
 forest under some huge oak, or in stone temples open 
 
 Stonehenge. 
 
 to the sky. But their worship was as cruel as their 
 fighting, for they were still a wild, savage people. 
 
 This was a strange story to the people in Rome. 
 To them it seemed as if this island was at the farther 
 end of the earth. The more they read of Caesar's 
 story, the more they longed to make Britain subject 
 to Rome. 
 
 CARADOC 
 
 For over a hundred years after Caesar's second 
 visit to Britain, Rome left the island alone. Then 
 an emperor came to the throne who read again the 
 
15 
 
 stories in Caesar's diary, and was filled with the de- 
 sire to make Britain truly a Roman province. 
 Again the Britons rallied strongly to protect their 
 land from the foreign foe, but they were no match 
 for the trained and disciplined armies of Roman 
 soldiers. Yet one brave man stood defiant for over 
 nine years. Caradoc, a young Briton chief, still be- 
 lieved that the fearless courage of his people would 
 in the end be triumphant. Back, back, back, ever 
 farther and farther and farther inland, he was driven 
 by the Romans. Yet he seemed to gain new hope 
 from each defeat. At last he was obliged to flee 
 into the hills. After him, with firm, steady, onward 
 march, came the Roman legions. Caradoc took his 
 stand on a high hill which was cut off from the 
 Romans by a river at its foot. He threw up a de- 
 fense of huge stones. He gathered the Britons from 
 far and near. He knew that this was to be the final 
 struggle. As he saw the army approaching he 
 rushed through the ranks, cheering his men and 
 crying, "To-day shall decide whether Britain shall 
 be free or subject to Rome." 
 
 The Britons caught his spirit. A shower of 
 stones and darts fell like biting hail on the ap- 
 proaching Romans. But the Romans were armed 
 with breastplates and helmets of the finest metal, 
 whereas the Britons wore no armor. It was a ter- 
 
i6 
 
 rible battle. Caradoc escaped, but soon afterwards 
 he was captured, and he and his whole family were 
 sent to Rome. 
 
 All Rome thronged the streets to see the tri- 
 umphant procession of the Roman general who had 
 finally conquered the far-away island. They gazed 
 with pride at the golden treasure that was borne 
 before him, and at the long line of captives who 
 marched behind in chains. Whenever Caradoc 
 passed, cheers went up, cheers for the Roman gen- 
 eral who after nine years had conquered this brave 
 patriot. Caradoc did not march like a captive. He 
 held his head as high as if he were wearing a crown 
 instead of chains. He saw in astonishment the 
 beautiful palaces and temples of Rome. A picture 
 came into his mind of the mud huts of his own peo- 
 ple. " Strange, strange," he said, half aloud, " that 
 people who own so many and such rich possessions 
 should envy us our poor homes." 
 
 Slowly the long procession moved through the 
 city to the field of Mars, where the emperor Claudius 
 and the empress sat in state, waiting to welcome the 
 triumphant general. Weeping and begging mercy 
 the captives fell on their knees before the emperor. 
 Caradoc, alone, remained standing in haughty pride. 
 Claudius turned his eyes upon him. There was a 
 moment of silence as the emperor spoke : — 
 
17 
 
 " Briton, knowest thou that thou must die ? All 
 who bear arms against Rome, as thou hast done, are 
 doomed to death." 
 
 Caradoc's voice was as calm as the emperor's as 
 he replied : — 
 
 " I had men and horses, arms and wealth. I 
 might have been your friend instead of your captive. 
 Had I surrendered to your power, neither my 
 fall nor your triumph would have been so great as 
 now. Put me to death, and my story will be forgot- 
 ten. Spare me, and your mercy will be remembered 
 forever. As for me, I have nothing to live for ; I 
 fear death no more here than on the field of battle." 
 
 The noble bearing of the man appealed to the 
 emperor. Caradoc was set free, and, as he said, his 
 story has not been forgotten. 
 
 But meanwhile in Britain the Roman conquest 
 went on. All the island, except the North, where 
 the wild Picts and Scots lived, was gradually con- 
 quered. Then, as was her custom, Rome began to 
 send her masons, her builders, her merchants, to 
 follow after the soldiers. The great marsh lands 
 were drained. The mud huts were shattered, and 
 houses, temples, theaters, and baths were built in 
 their place. The forest trails were beaten down 
 into broad, hard roads running from town to town. 
 A mighty wall was built in the North reaching from 
 
 LIT. STO. OF ENG. 2 
 
i8 
 
 sea to sea; bridges spanned the rivers, and guards 
 kept them day and night against the Picts and 
 Scots. The people were taught to wear cloth gar- 
 ments instead of skins. They were shown how to 
 
 " A mighty wall was built.*' 
 
 till the soil and raise grain. The captives were 
 forced to work in the lead and tin mines. 
 
 For over four hundred years the work of the 
 Roman conquest went on, changing the island from 
 a savage to a civilized country. Yet it was not all 
 gain for Britain. Many of her men and women 
 worked as slaves for Rome. Many of her young 
 men were sent to fight in the Roman army. Every 
 
19 
 
 year the island was forced to pay a heavy tax to 
 Rome. Little by little the Britons lost their war- 
 like spirit. They were no longer warriors, for if an 
 enemy attacked them, the Roman legions were there 
 to protect them. 
 
 But the end of Rome's greatness was drawing 
 near. Wild tribes began attacking the city which 
 had once been the most powerful city of the world. 
 Her legions were needed at home. One by one 
 they were withdrawn from Britain. The Picts and 
 Scots were quick to learn that the Romans had 
 gone. They came down from the North like a 
 swarm of angry hornets. The Britons were power- 
 less against these invaders. Terror-stricken, they 
 sent a letter to the Roman General, calling it " The 
 Groans of the Britons." It was a pitiful letter beg- 
 ging for help. 
 
 " The savages drive us into the sea," they wrote ; 
 " the sea drives us back on the savages. Our onlv 
 choice is whether we shall die by the sword or 
 drown ; for we have none to save us." 
 
 But Rome could only send back the answer, 
 " Britain must look to her own defense." 
 
20 
 
 THE COMING OF THE ENGLISH 
 
 Years passed by, each one more troublesome for 
 Britain. The robber tribes in the North grew 
 bolder in their plundering. Pirates from the bar- 
 barians living along the North Sea began to ravage 
 the eastern coast of the island. The spirit of Car- 
 adoc was dead. Rome had withdrawn all help. 
 Where should the Britons turn for aid ? Then 
 Vortigern, a Briton king, bethought himself, " I 
 shall do well if I can set these robbers one against 
 another." So he sent word to the Jutes, a warlike 
 people living on the peninsula that we call Den- 
 mark, and said, " Let us make an alliance together." 
 
 So Hengist and Horsa, the leaders of the Jutes, 
 gave a great feast to Vortigern, and the pledge was 
 drunk that if the Jutes would aid the Britons in 
 driving back the Picts and Scots the king Vortigern 
 would give to them the island of Thanet. If we 
 may believe the legend, another pledge was also 
 made at this feast, for Hengist had a daughter 
 Rowena, who was very beautiful, and who served 
 the king at table. When Vortigern looked into her 
 blue eyes, he loved her, and said to Hengist : — 
 
 " Give me the maid to wife, and I will give you 
 the kingdom of Kent." 
 
 Be this story as it may, band upon band of Jutes 
 
21 
 
 sailed for England. These tribes had never been 
 subdued by the Romans. The love of war was 
 born in their blood. They drove the Picts and 
 Scots back behind the great wall, and placed guards 
 there, as the Romans had done before them. As a 
 reward for their great service they were given the 
 island of Thanet. Here many of the Jutes settled, 
 but others returned home to Denmark. At home 
 they told strange tales. They told of rich cities. 
 They told of fertile fields. They told of the coward- 
 ice of the Britons, who fled at the sight of the Picts 
 and Scots. In Britain, it seemed, was wealth to be 
 had for the taking. 
 
 Other tribes besides the Jutes began to turn long- 
 ing eyes upon the island. The Saxons and the 
 Angles, from Germany, were quick to follow the 
 lead of the Jutes. At first they went merely to 
 plunder and return home. Then, as they saw that 
 the stories of the Jutes were true, they came bring- 
 ing with them their wives, children, and cattle. 
 They came seeking homes in a land that was better 
 than their own. 
 
 In dismay the Britons saw that a new enemy was 
 upon them. These Saxons and Angles were a 
 merciless people. In war they killed all their cap- 
 tives or made them slaves. They tore down the 
 beautiful palaces and theaters that the Romans had 
 
22 
 
 built. They turned the Christian churches into 
 Pagan temples. The few Britons who escaped 
 sought refuge in the West among the mountains of 
 Wales. Slowly the Angles and Saxons made the 
 island their own. In the fertile fields they built 
 
 "These Saxons and Angles were a merciless people." 
 
 up villages like those they had left behind in Ger- 
 many. Each freeman of the tribe had a small piece 
 of land which he called his own. Here he built his 
 rude hut of branches, woven together and covered 
 with mud. There was little furniture in the hut, 
 but on the walls of the very poorest hung the free- 
 
23 
 
 man's arms. He must be ready at a moment's 
 notice to rally around his chief. 
 
 On the edge of the village was the plowland, 
 where the slaves were set to work, plowing, plant- 
 ing, and reaping grain. Round the plowland ran a 
 high hedge to keep out the wild beasts of the forests. 
 No man ventured far into these forests unarmed. 
 But on the border of the woods beneath the beech 
 trees the boy swineherd fed his swine. The boy 
 was dressed in uncombed sheepskins, with sandals 
 on his feet, bound with leather thongs. His mat- 
 ted hair was his only cap. Around his neck he 
 wore a brass ring, like a dog's collar, telling the 
 name of his master, for the swineherd was a slave. 
 A ram's horn hung from his belt, to call the swine 
 together at night. 
 
 The Romans had come as conquerors. These new 
 tribes came as settlers. In the course of time seven 
 great separate kingdoms grew up in Britain. The 
 Jutes settled in Kent. The Saxons formed three 
 kingdoms : Essex, or the land of the East Saxons ; 
 Wessex, the land of the West Saxons ; and Sussex, 
 the land of the South Saxons. And the Angles 
 named their three kingdoms Anglia, Mercia, and 
 Northumbria. Their whole territory they called 
 Angles' land, and from this name came England, the 
 name of the southern part of the island of Britain. 
 
24 
 
 KING ARTHUR 
 
 In the days when the heart of every Briton was 
 terror-stricken by the word Roman, one man had 
 arisen from their own midst, — Caradoc. Now, when 
 the Saxons were sweeping across the land like fire, 
 another Briton hero met the foe fearlessly, and dared 
 lead his army against them. The name of this hero 
 king was Arthur, and history tells us little about 
 him except that in his courage lay the dying hope of 
 his people. 
 
 To-day when a great man dies a monument is 
 erected to his honor, so that even those who never 
 saw him can look into his face and feel that they, 
 too, have known him. But in these early days, when 
 the Britons were fleeing for their lives to the woods 
 and mountains, they could do little to honor a hero. 
 Still, they did not forget King Arthur. The story 
 of his brave deeds passed from lip to lip. Mothers 
 told of it to their children, and these children in their 
 turn told it to their own. It came to be the favorite 
 tale of the Britons. And the oftener it was told the 
 more their love grew for this king. They came to 
 believe that he had power to do any deed that was 
 good and noble. Centuries afterwards these legends 
 and tales were gathered together and printed in a 
 book. Which were true we of to-day can no longer 
 
25 
 
 tell ; but what is true is that boys and girls of to-day 
 love the tale of King Arthur just as much as did the 
 little Britons who listened to it in the far distant 
 past. This is the story. 
 
 It happened in the days when Uther was king in 
 England that a son was born to him. But the king 
 did not like the child, and, when he was still a wee 
 baby, he commanded two knights and two ladies to 
 wrap the child in a cloth of gold, and give it to 
 the first poor man who passed the castle gate. So 
 it befell that the baby came into the hands of Merlin, 
 the Enchanter, who named him Arthur and gave 
 him to Sir Ector to bring up as his son. 
 
 About two years after this, King Uther fell sick 
 and died, leaving the realm without a ruler. There 
 were many lords who came forth eager to be king, 
 but none could decide who should be chosen, and 
 for a long, long time only strife and jealousy reigned 
 in England. Then Merlin bade the lords of the 
 land gather in the greatest church in London on 
 Christmas morn and see if God would not send them 
 a sign who should be their king. And when the 
 mass was over there was found in the churchyard a 
 great stone, four feet square, and in the midst of it 
 was an anvil of steel in which a sword of gold was 
 imbedded. And round about the sword ran this 
 
26 
 
 inscription in letters of gold : " Whoso pulleth this 
 sword out of this stone and anvil, is rightwise born 
 king of the Britons." 
 
 Many a knight was eager to try his hand, and each 
 was given his turn, but the sword clung fast in the 
 anvil as if it were in truth a part of the stone itself. 
 Then the archbishop said, " Truly this is a miracle 
 of God, and He will send us our king in due season. 
 Till then let us wait in peace." 
 
 So the knights went forth to gather again on New 
 Year's Day at a great tournament. And among 
 those who rode to the tournament was Sir Ector 
 with his son Sir Kay, and the young Arthur his 
 foster brother. But when Sir Kay was about to 
 enter the jousts, he bethought him that he had left 
 his sword at home, and bade young Arthur ride 
 quickly and fetch it. On the way the boy remem- 
 bered the tale he had heard of the sword in the 
 churchyard, and determined that he would try his 
 strength. So when he had come to the church he 
 tied his horse to the stile and went over to the great 
 stone. He clasped the hilt firmly with his right 
 hand and drew the sword lightly from its bed of 
 steel. A moment later he was back on the field, 
 delivering the sword to Sir Kay. 
 
 When Sir Kay had looked at the sword, he knew 
 well whence it came. , The tale spread fast among 
 
27 
 
 the knights that Arthur had drawn forth the 
 miraculous sword. 
 
 Then all together they rode back to the church- 
 yard, and placed 
 the sword in the 
 anvil. Again ten 
 knights tried one 
 by one to draw it 
 forth, but it yielded 
 to none of them. 
 Yet when Arthur's 
 hand fell upon it, it 
 slipped out with 
 no effort. There- 
 upon Sir Ector 
 and Sir Kay knelt 
 down before Ar- 
 thur, and all the 
 other knights 
 knelt down, and 
 Arthur was proclaimed 
 friend, Merlin the Enchanter, help him. 
 
 At another time Merlin and the king were to- 
 gether, and Arthur was sad because he had broken 
 his sword in battle with a knight. Then said 
 Merlin, " Let us ride down to yonder lake." 
 
 Together they came to the lake side, and there in 
 
 'Arthur was proclaimed king." 
 
 ing. So once more did his 
 
23 
 
 the midst of the water arose an arm holding aloft a 
 
 beautiful sword. And over the waters was seen 
 
 coming a maiden. 
 
 " Speak fair to yonder maiden, for she is the Lady 
 
 of the Lake," 
 quoth Merlin ; 
 " and she will 
 give you the 
 sword." 
 
 " Fair lady," 
 spoke Arthur, 
 " pray tell me 
 whose is yonder 
 sword ? I wish 
 indeed that it 
 were mine, for 
 mine is broken 
 in twain." 
 
 " The sword 
 is mine," was 
 the maiden's 
 answer ; " but 
 
 gladly will I give it to thee. Do thou take yonder 
 
 barge and row out and fetch it." 
 
 So Arthur and Merlin rowed out into the lake, 
 
 and the king took the sword, while the arm again 
 
 went under the water. Then Merlin told him that 
 
 ExcaHbur. 
 
2 9 
 
 the name of the sword was Excalibur, and that he 
 should do with it many a brave and noble deed. 
 
 The words of Merlin came true, and Arthur's 
 fame grew wider and wider. Then his barons came 
 to him and said, " So noble a king should take to 
 himself a wife. Now is there not some lady of the 
 land whom ye love better than another ? " 
 
 " Yea," said King Arthur, " I love Guenevere of 
 the house of Cameliard, whose father holdeth the 
 Table Round that ye told me he had of my father, 
 Uther. She is the gentlest and the fairest lady in 
 the land." 
 
 So Merlin went forth and brought Guenevere to 
 be Arthur's wife, and her father sent with her as a 
 gift the Round Table and a hundred knights. And 
 the noble deeds that were done by King Arthur 
 and his knights of the Round Table would fill a 
 book of many pages, for the king lived to a good 
 old age. 
 
 Nobly did the king live, and nobly did he die. 
 Wounded in battle he lay dying in his tent. Then 
 he called to him one of his knights, Sir Bedivere, 
 and handed him his sword. 
 
 " Take thou Excalibur, my good sword," he said, 
 " and carry it to yonder lake, where thou shalt throw 
 it into the water, and then return to me and tell me 
 what thou shalt see." 
 
30 
 
 11 - 
 
 if ' | 'W^ 
 
 H ' ' ****** ^ f / 
 
 4 
 
 
 
 / st*** * 0. 
 
 Sir Galahad, a Knight of the Round Table. 
 
3i 
 
 At these words Sir Bedivere knew that the king's 
 end was near. He went out, sad of face, to do his 
 command. But on the way he paused to look at 
 the sword. " It is, forsooth, a pity to cast such a 
 fine sword into the water," he thought to himself, 
 and straightway hid it beneath a tree. 
 
 " What saw ye at the lake ? " questioned the king, 
 when Sir Bedivere returned. 
 
 " Sir," said the knight, " I saw nothing but the 
 waves driven by the wind." 
 
 Then Arthur looked into his eyes, and said, " As 
 thou art dear to me, go and do my command." And 
 Sir Bedivere went out the second time. But a 
 second time, when he held the sword in his hand, 
 he said to himself, " It is indeed a shame to throw 
 away such a noble sword." Again he hid it, and 
 went back to the dying king. 
 
 " What saw ye there at the lake ? " The king 
 repeated his question, and the knight made answer: 
 " Sir, I saw nothing but the lapping waves." 
 
 "Ah, traitor!" cried the king, "now hast thou 
 betrayed me twice. In the name of the love which 
 I have ever borne to thee; depart and do my com- 
 mand." 
 
 A third time Sir Bedivere went out and took the 
 sword, but this time he carried it to the lake and 
 threw it far into the water. He stood above on 
 
32 
 
 the cliff and watched. He saw the waves part, and 
 an arm and head come out of the water and seize 
 the sword. Three times the sword was brandished 
 in the air, and then it sank forever beneath the 
 waves. So Sir Bedivere came again to the king, 
 and told him what he had seen. 
 
 " Alas," said Arthur, " now help me hence, for I 
 fear that I have tarried too long." 
 
 Then the knight took the king gently in his arms, 
 and carried him down to the lake side. And there 
 stood a barge with many fair ladies in it, all wear- 
 ing hoods of black. And when they saw the king 
 they wept and wailed. 
 
 " Now put me in the barge," quoth the king. 
 Sir Bedivere lifted him in, and noiselessly the barge 
 left the shore. And the king said unto his knight: — ■ 
 
 "... now farewell. I am going a long way 
 
 To the island-valley of Avilion ; 
 Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, 
 Nor ever wind blows loudly ; but it lies 
 Deep-meadowed, happy, fair with orchard-lawns 
 And bowery hollows crowned with summer sea. 
 Where I will heal me of my grievous wound." 
 
 This is the last story of the Britons. 
 
33 
 
 HOW THE STORY OF CHRIST WAS TOLD 
 IN ENGLAND 
 
 Little by little all Roman influence disappeared 
 from the white-cliffed island. Missionaries from 
 Ireland brought to the Britons the news of the 
 new religion of Christianity that Rome had sent to 
 them. But this religion gave way to the German 
 paganism when the Angles and Saxons came. The 
 Latin words were forgotten for the rougher tongue 
 of the newcomers. The one remaining link 
 between England and Rome was her trade, and the 
 selling of English men and women and boys and 
 girls in Rome as slaves. 
 
 It so happened that one day Gregory, a priest, 
 was passing the slave market in Rome, and saw two 
 English boys standing there. Their fair skin and 
 hair and blue eyes, so different from the Italians, 
 attracted his attention. 
 
 " Who are these golden-haired boys ? " he asked 
 of the slave dealer. 
 
 " They are Angles," was the answer. 
 
 " Not Angles, but Angels," returned the priest. 
 " And whence come they? " 
 
 " From Deira." 
 
 "Deira!" repeated Gregory (which in Latin 
 means, " from the wrath of God "). " Aye, verily 
 
 LIT. STO. OF ENG. — 2 
 
34 
 
 they are plucked from the wrath of God and 
 called to Christ's mercy. And what is their king's 
 name ? " 
 
 They told him " JEMa." 
 
 St. Augustine preaching to Ethelbert. 
 
 " A word of good omen," replied Gregory ; " Alle- 
 luias shall be sung in ^Ella's land." 
 
 Gregory never forgot the faces of those slave 
 boys. He longed to go himself to their land, but 
 this was not possible, for he afterwards became Pope, 
 and there were many other pressing matters for him 
 
35 
 
 .to attend to. Still, after many years, he sent to 
 England a certain monk named Augustine to tell 
 the story of Christ there. Augustine set out with a 
 little band of followers across Gaul. On his journey 
 he heard so many terrifying tales of the Saxons that 
 he wrote to Rome begging to be allowed to return. 
 But Gregory bade him go on his way. " The more 
 difficult the labor, the greater the reward," was his 
 reply. In the year 597 Augustine and his fellow 
 missionaries landed on the island of Thanet. 
 
 They had chosen Kent for a first landing spot 
 because Ethelbert, the king, had married a Frankish 
 princess Bertha, who was a Christian. Bertha 
 persuaded the king to receive the strangers kindly, 
 but Ethelbert would not allow them to come under 
 his roof. He feared they might cast a magic spell 
 over his house. So the first meeting was held out 
 of doors under a great oak. 
 
 The king and his court watched the procession of 
 white-robed priests coming up from the sea, bearing 
 ahead a silver cross and a banner on which was 
 painted a picture of Christ. They listened, too, to 
 the chants that the priests sang and the long sermon 
 that Augustine preached. Then the king said, 
 "Your words are fair, but they are new." He was 
 not willing to give up his old religion so quickly. 
 Yet he permitted them to come back with him to 
 
36 
 
 Canterbury and worship in an old Roman church,- 
 St. Martin's, which was still standing there. After a 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 ?"• 
 
 
 
 P°t^tfeW» 
 
 
 rni 
 
 ^ •--- 
 
 w^^^S 
 
 
 Canterbury Cathedral. 
 
 year, when he had seen what good men Augustine 
 and his followers were, and how they helped the 
 poor and taught the ignorant, Ethelbert was himself 
 baptized, and not long after his whole court, and 
 Kent became a Christian kingdom with Augustine 
 bishop of Canterbury. 
 
 The next kingdom to become Christianized was 
 Northumbria. Edwin, who was the rightful king of 
 
37 
 
 Northumberland, had been deposed, and had fled for 
 protection to Redwald, the king of East Anglia. 
 At first Redwald was kind to him, but finally he 
 was persuaded to give him over to his enemies. 
 Edwin had learned of the plot and had gone out in 
 the early morning to think over what he could do. 
 He was seated on a stone near the palace, when a 
 stranger came up to him and said : — 
 
 " Think not that I do not know why you are 
 wakeful when others sleep. What will you give to 
 him who will persuade Redwald not to hand you 
 over to your enemies ? " 
 
 " He shall have all the gratitude of my heart," 
 Edwin made reply. 
 
 " And what if he overcomes your enemies and 
 makes you the most powerful king in England ? " 
 
 " I will give myself to him," answered Edwin. 
 
 " And if he tell you more of the meaning of life 
 and death than any of your forefathers have known, 
 will you listen to him ? " 
 
 " I will." 
 
 Then the stranger, laying his hand on Edwin's 
 head, made the sign of the cross. " When this sign 
 shall be repeated," he said, " remember it and this 
 hour, and what you have promised." With these 
 words the stranger vanished. 
 
 Many years afterwards, when Edwin's kingdom 
 
3* 
 
 had been returned to him, Paulinus, a priest, came 
 and asked him if he remembered the sign and his 
 promise. Edwin answered yes, and pledged him- 
 self to become a Christian. But first he called 
 together a council of his nobles to discuss the 
 matter. He told them the story, and asked them if 
 he should give up the old religion for the new. 
 This is the answer that one of his men made : — 
 
 " The present life seems to me like the flight of 
 a sparrow. The bird of a wintry night flies into the 
 great hall where we sit feasting, and for a few moments 
 it is safe and warm by our fire. But an instant later 
 it vanishes into the dark of the night and the cold 
 of the storm. If the new religion can tell us more 
 about this night into which we must all some day 
 pass, let us too become Christians." So the king 
 and all the nobles adopted the new faith. 
 
 It was in this kingdom, in Lammermoor, that one 
 of the greatest English missionaries was born. 
 Cuthbert was a lame shepherd boy. A pilgrim in a 
 white mantle, coming over the hill and pausing to 
 heal the shepherd boy's knee, seemed to him an 
 angel. The stars in the sky seemed to him to be 
 angelic hosts. He was not happy until he joined a 
 brotherhood and became a monk. But he did not 
 spend his days in the monastery. He went out over 
 the moors and the meadows, telling the people who 
 
39 
 
 lived in little thatched huts the story of Christ. On 
 foot and on horseback he traveled through woods 
 and villages, preaching in simple fashion to the 
 peasants. 
 
 " Never did man die of hunger, who served God 
 faithfully," he would say, when nightfall came upon 
 
 St. Cuthbert and the Eagle. 
 
 them supperless in the waste land. " Look at the 
 eagle overhead ! God can feed us through him, if 
 He will." And even as he finished these words, the 
 frightened bird let fall a fish that she was carrying 
 home in her beak. 
 
 Another time, when the storm drove him inland, 
 as he was trying to make his way down the coast, 
 
4Q 
 
 his companions grew disheartened. " The snow 
 closes the way along the shore," they cried ; "and 
 the storm bars our way over the sea." 
 
 " There is still the way of heaven that lies open 
 to us," Cuthbert made answer. 
 
 Thus it was that the story of Christ was told in 
 England both to the kings and to the people. 
 
 :>X*< 
 
 KING ALFRED, ENGLAND'S DARLING 
 
 King Alfred is the best beloved of all of Eng- 
 land's kings. An old English writer tells us that he 
 was the favorite son of his father and mother because 
 he was the " lovesomest," and one thousand years 
 after his death all England held a great celebration 
 in his memory, because they still loved this king. 
 He was the youngest of four brothers, but he soon 
 showed that he was more eager to learn than any 
 of the others. 
 
 One day the mother was showing the boys a book 
 of Saxon lays. There were no printed books at this 
 time, and in this book the letters had been painted, 
 probably by some monk, and they were done in gor- 
 geous reds and greens and gold. To Alfred, lean- 
 ing against his mother's knee, this book seemed the 
 most beautiful thing that he had ever seen, and 
 
41 
 
 he longed to have it for his own. Then he listened 
 and heard his mother saying: "Whichever of you 
 can soonest learn this volume, to him will I give it." 
 
 Alfred and the New Book. 
 
 Alfred looked up with wide-open eyes. " Wilt 
 thou indeed give one of us this book — and to him 
 who can soonest understand and repeat it before 
 thee ? " 
 
 And his mother answered, " Yea, I will." Per- 
 haps she guessed then which of her sons it would 
 be, for while the others soon ran away to their play, 
 
42 
 
 Alfred took the book very carefully and carried it to 
 his master. He could not read himself, but his 
 master read the Saxon poems aloud, until his little 
 pupil learned them word for word. That was the 
 way Alfred earned his first book. 
 
 When Alfred was still a little boy, he was sent on 
 a pilgrimage to Rome, where he was confirmed. 
 We do not know how many months he stayed there 
 nor what he did, but this long journey to the Eter- 
 nal City must have made a deep impression upon 
 him. All through his life he was a devout church- 
 man. As soon as he could read, which was not 
 until he was twelve years old, he learned the church 
 service by heart. Next he wrote down in a little 
 book certain of the psalms and prayers, which he 
 bore with him constantly in his bosom, so that he 
 might feel that God was near him always in the 
 stress and strain of his life. 
 
 For Alfred was destined to see stormy times in 
 England, which called him away from his books out 
 into the battlefield. The Danes, those wild sea- 
 men from the North, came down upon England in 
 their black ships like a vast flock of thieving ravens. 
 It was the first year of Alfred's reign, and he was 
 only twenty-three years old. But in his youthful 
 heart was born the courage to gather his fighting 
 men and lead them out against these dreaded in- 
 
43 
 
 vaders. Nine times he went to battle with the 
 Danes during the first year of his reign. When 
 Alfred was victorious the Danes made treaties with 
 him to which they swore, by the sacred golden 
 bracelets on their arms, that they would be true. 
 But when they had regained their strength, they 
 broke their oaths and spread once more over 
 Alfred's land, plundering, slaying, and burning 
 wherever they could make their way. 
 
 Oftentimes the king and his band of faithful 
 followers were driven far into the waste lands. 
 There is a strange tale of an adventure which befell 
 Alfred at this time. He had been forced into 
 Athelney, where there was no food to be had except 
 fish and game. One morning when the men were 
 out fishing, the king was left alone and was comfort- 
 ing himself in his loneliness by reading from his 
 little book of psalms. Suddenly he felt that some 
 one was near him. Looking up, he saw a pilgrim 
 standing, who looked at him with hungry eyes, and 
 said: "In the name of God give me to eat and 
 drink." 
 
 The kind-hearted Alfred called his servant, and 
 asked him what food there was in the tent. 
 
 " One loaf of bread and a little wine, sir," replied 
 the servant. 
 
 " Then quickly bring it hither," was the king's 
 
44 
 
 answer, "and give the half of each to this starving 
 man." 
 
 The beggar thanked him, and a few moments 
 later was gone. But the bread and wine were left 
 untasted, and at evening the men returned with 
 heavy baskets. 
 
 That night the king could not sleep because his 
 thoughts were full of the strange pilgrim who had 
 come to visit him. Suddenly a great light shone 
 about his bed, and in that light he saw an old man 
 standing, clad in priestly robes and wearing a miter 
 on his head. 
 
 " Who art thou ? " questioned the king. 
 
 Whereupon the old man made answer, " I am he 
 to whom thou gavest bread and wine to-day. I am 
 called Cuthbert, the servant of the Lord, and I am 
 come to tell you how to free England from the 
 Danes. To-morrow arise with trust in God in your 
 heart. Cross over the river and blow loudly three 
 times upon your horn. About the ninth hour of 
 the day friends shall come to your aid. Then shall 
 you fight and be victorious." 
 
 The next morning Alfred hastened to do as St. 
 Cuthbert had commanded, and even as he had 
 spoken it came to pass. 
 
 Still there were many more hard battles fought 
 between Alfred and the Danes, and never did the 
 
45 
 
 king succeed in driving them out of England. 
 But at last they settled north of Alfred's kingdom, 
 and now he could find time to do many things for 
 his people, that he had long wanted to do. He 
 started schools, and, as there were few English books, 
 he translated many foreign books himself for his 
 people. Alfred was not content to be a mere 
 reader. Whenever he found a beautiful verse or 
 thought, he wished to share it with some one else. 
 One book of which he was particularly fond was the 
 writings of the great St. Augustine. This book, 
 Alfred wrote, was like a great forest, and he loved 
 to wander about in it, cutting down here a beam, 
 here a joist, and here a great plank with which to 
 build a palace for his soul. " For in every tree," he 
 said, " saw I something needful for my soul." And 
 more than that, he bade every man who could to 
 fare to that serene wood to fetch beams for himself 
 so that there might be many a comely house built. 
 
 Alfred loved justice, too, as much as he did learn- 
 ing. He collected the laws of the land and made 
 his people abide by them. There was a saying that 
 during Alfred's reign gold chains could hang across 
 the streets and no one would steal them. 
 
 He went to the monks, and encouraged them to 
 keep a chronicle of all that took place in the king- 
 dom, and so we have to-day the history of those far- 
 
46 
 
 away days. It is chiefly due to this chronicle that 
 
 we know about the 
 life of this great 
 king, who said when 
 he died : — 
 
 " I have desired to 
 live worthily while I 
 lived, and after my 
 life to leave to the 
 
 men that should be after me my remembrance in 
 
 good works." 
 
 »ol*ioo — 
 
 s-i 
 
 C^EDMON, THE FIRST ENGLISH SINGER 
 
 High above the little fishing village of Whitby, 
 in the seventh century, stood an old wooden church 
 and monastery. It was a beautiful spot to live in. 
 Below it, on the one hand, was the blue sea with 
 the little fishing vessels sailing upon it; and on the 
 other stretched the wild moors and meadows, with 
 the River Esk running through them to the sea. 
 
 This monastery was founded for both monks and 
 nuns by a beautiful woman whose name was Hilda. 
 She was a very good woman, spending her days 
 teaching and helping the ignorant and poor. The 
 monks and nuns loved her so dearly that they all 
 called her " mother." 
 
47 
 
 In the monastery on long winter evenings, the 
 monks and servants often gathered for a feast, and 
 afterward told or sang stories and songs. There 
 was always a harp, which was passed from one to 
 another, and each in turn sang some lay. There 
 was seated at one of these feasts one evening a 
 middle-aged man who cared for the cattle of the 
 monastery. He had been listening eagerly to the 
 songs, but when he saw that the harp was coming 
 soon to him, he was greatly afraid. When no one 
 was looking, he slipped out of the room. He hur- 
 ried sadly down the cliff, with the music of the sea 
 beating below. There were songs in his heart, but 
 he could not sing them. 
 
 But that night, as he lay sleeping in the stable, 
 suddenly one stood by him, and saluting him, said, 
 " Caedmon, sing me something." 
 
 And he answered, " I know not how to sing, and 
 for this reason left I the feast." 
 
 Then the other said, " Nevertheless, you will have 
 to sing to me." 
 
 " What shall I sing ? " Caedmon replied. 
 
 " Sing," said the other, " the beginning of things 
 created." 
 
 Then, still in his sleep, Caedmon began to sing in 
 verse of how the Lord created heaven and earth. 
 When he awakened the next morning, he remem- 
 
4 8 
 
 bered his dream and the verses he had made. As 
 he repeated them to himself, he added new ones. 
 He had suddenly learned to put into words the 
 songs that had been hidden in his heart. He was so 
 happy that he told one of the other servants in the 
 monastery of his new gift. 
 
 Soon afterwards he was taken before Hilda and 
 bidden to tell his dream. When Hilda had heard 
 his verses, she said quietly, " Surely this is the gift of 
 God." Then she read Caedmon another story from 
 the Bible, and bade him turn it into verse. This he 
 did, and then Hilda bade him become a monk and 
 live in the monastery. He now had time to learn 
 the beautiful stories in the Bible, and one after an- 
 other he turned them into sweet verses. He sang 
 the history of the Children of Israel, their captivity 
 and exile, and their entrance into the Promised 
 Land. And later he sang of the birth of Jesus 
 in the lowly manger and his life and death upon 
 the cross. So he lived many years, a devout and 
 humble man, until he died one night as he lay 
 sleeping. 
 
 But his songs went from one monastery to another, 
 until they were known throughout the land. They 
 were so beautiful that they inspired many other 
 monks to write verses, but none could write so well 
 as the master, Caedmon. These poems are called 
 
49 
 
 " The School of Caedmon." They are different 
 from the poems that our poets write to-day, but they 
 are poetry because they too are full of beautiful 
 thoughts and pictures. 
 
 We can see this if we read these few verses which 
 were written about the dove that Noah let fly from 
 the ark : — 
 
 "Far and wide she flew, 
 Glad in flying free, till she found a place, 
 Fair, where she fain would rest ! With her feet she stept 
 On a gentle tree. Gay of mood and glad was she. 
 
 Then she fluttered feathers ; went a-flying off again, 
 
 With her booty flew, brought it to the sailor 
 
 From an olive wood a twig ; right into his hand, 
 
 Bore the blade of green. 
 
 Then the chief of seamen knew that gladness was at hand." 
 
 >><*=:< 
 
 CANUTE, THE DANISH KING 
 
 The years that followed Alfred's peace were years 
 of most terrible warfare. Ever and again, the 
 mighty black ships of the Danes came coasting along 
 England's shores and sailing boldly up the rivers. 
 And wherever the Danes went they left a trail no 
 less black than their ships, a trail of villages burned 
 to the ground. Some of the English kings met 
 these dreaded invaders in battle; and some of them 
 
 LIT. STO. OF ENG. — 4 
 
c ,o 
 
 bought the Danes off with large sums of money. 
 The Danes took the money, went home, and waited 
 only until they could gather together fresh men 
 and build new boats to break their promises and 
 sweep down upon England. Finally, in despera- 
 tion,- Ethelred, the English king, ordered every 
 Dane left in England to be slain. Among: those 
 who were put to death was Gunhild, the sister of 
 Sweyn, king of Denmark. 
 
 " My death will bring many wars upon your land," 
 she murmured with her last breath. 
 
 This prophecy was soon fulfilled. The next year 
 Sweyn himself landed in England to avenge the 
 death of his sister and countrymen. Sweyn had a 
 most gorgeous fleet. The beaks of his ships were 
 of brass ; the sterns were adorned with lions of gold, 
 and on the mastheads were birds and dragons for 
 weathercocks. Sweyn made many attacks on Eng- 
 land, and the story of his ravages and plundering are 
 terrible to read. At last Ethelred, who was called 
 the Unready, had to leave his country, and Sweyn 
 became the real king of England. But Sweyn died 
 before he was crowned. 
 
 His young son, Canute, who had accompanied his 
 father to England on this last voyage, now took up 
 his father's work. Soon afterwards Ethelred the 
 Unready died, and his son, Edmund Ironsides, 
 
5i 
 
 claimed the English crown. These two sons 
 fought many battles, and, when at last both forces 
 were worn out, they met on a small island and 
 agreed that Canute should reign over Northern, 
 and Edmund Ironsides over Southern, England. 
 Scarcely had these terms been agreed to when 
 Edmund Ironsides died, and all England was left 
 in the hands of a Danish king. 
 
 It might be thought that Canute, who had been 
 such a cruel foe, would have been a heartless king; 
 but this was far from true. When his people swore 
 obedience to him, he promised to rule them justly, 
 and he kept his promise well. He sent his Danish 
 soldiers home, and ruled according to England's 
 law. He built churches, and was a good friend to 
 the monks and nuns. He even made a pilgrimage 
 to Rome to pray for the forgiveness of his sins and 
 for the welfare of his new subjects. Sometimes he 
 used to row on the river at Ely and listen to the chant- 
 ing of the monks in the great cathedral. When the 
 service was over, he bade his boatmen sing a song 
 as they plied their oars, and made up himself this 
 little verse for them to sing : — 
 
 " The Ely monks sang clear and high 
 As King Canute was passing by. 
 1 Row near the land and hear them sing,' 
 Cried to the boatmen Canute the King." 
 
52 
 
 Canute loved also to listen to the songs of min- 
 strels. One evening he saw a stranger at the feast. 
 " He looks like a poet," said the king ; " bid him sing 
 us a song." The stranger, who was O there the 
 Black, an Icelander, stepped forth and asked that 
 
 Canute listening to the Monks of Ely. 
 
 he might recite a poem about the king. Canute 
 consented, and when the poet had done, he praised 
 it highly. He took from his head a Russian cap 
 that he was wearing, a cap embroidered with gold, 
 and bade his chamberlain fill it with silver for the 
 poet. The chamberlain did as he was told, but in 
 passing the cap over the heads of the great crowd 
 that was assembled, some of the silver pieces fell 
 upon the floor. He stooped to pick them up, but 
 the king's voice stopped him. " The poor shall 
 
J^hs&Sr 
 
 Canute and the Rising; Tide. 
 
54 
 
 have it, and thou shalt not lose thereby, 1 ' he said 
 to Othere the Black. 
 
 There is another tale that we read in the old 
 chronicles about the Danish king. It is very 
 quaintly written : — 
 
 "In the very height of his power, he [Canute] 
 bade them set his chair on the shore of the sea, 
 when the tide was flowing; and to the tide, as it 
 flowed, he said, ' Thou art my subject ; and the land 
 on which I sit is mine; nor hath there ever been 
 one that resisted my bidding, and suffered not. I 
 command thee therefore, that thou come not up on 
 my land, nor presume to wet the garments and 
 limbs of thy lord.' But the sea, rising after its 
 wont, w r etted without respect the legs and feet of 
 the king. Therefore, leaping back, he said, ' Let 
 all dwellers on the earth know that the power of 
 kings is a vain and foolish thing, and that no one 
 is worthy to bear the name of king save only Him, 
 whose bidding the heavens, and the earth, and the 
 sea obey by everlasting laws.' Nor ever thereafter 
 did King Canute set his crown of gold upon his 
 head, but put it forever on the image of our Lord, 
 which was fastened to the cross." 
 
55 
 
 WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR 
 
 In the year 1066 the king of England lay dead, 
 leaving no heir to the throne. These were days 
 when England needed a strong leader, for invaders 
 were still seeking her shores; so the Witan, or council 
 of Wise Men, hastened to assemble and select a ruler. 
 The lot fell upon Earl Harold, and through England 
 and through Europe rode messengers proclaiming 
 "King Edward is dead, and Earl Harold has been 
 chosen king." 
 
 Now across the channel from England in France 
 lies a fair province that had been seized and settled 
 by the men of the North, much as England had been 
 by the Danes, and had been given the name of 
 Normandy. The Duke of Normandy was a relative 
 of the late King Edward, and it was claimed that 
 Edward had promised him the English crown. There 
 is another story that Earl Harold had taken an oath 
 to help Duke William claim the throne. For not 
 many months before King Edward died, Earl Harold 
 was shipwrecked on the coast of Normandy. As was 
 customary in those times, he was taken prisoner and 
 held for a large ransom. Then Earl Harold sent 
 word of his sorry plight to the duke, and besought 
 him to free him. The duke had the English earl 
 brought before him, and bade him swear on the 
 
56 
 
 Prayer Book that he would help him, Duke William, 
 in his claim to the English throne. Earl Harold took 
 the oath, and then William lifted up the Prayer Book 
 and showed him that it rested upon some holy relics. 
 Such an oath was doubly sacred. Thus did Harold 
 gain his freedom. 
 
 Now when the herald brought word to Normandy 
 that Harold was seated on the English throne, Duke 
 William was off on the hunt. Such anger flashed 
 
 */a ikr/xn /\ *./\l 
 
 VB1 1 h AROLD-SACRAMENTVM-.FECIT: 
 VV1LL6LMO DVCI> 
 
 bIChAROUD:DV 
 
 Harold's Oath. 
 (From Bayeux Tapestry) 
 
 from his eyes that no one dared speak to him. He 
 laid down his great bow, that no man but he could 
 draw, and strode back to the castle. There he sat 
 down on a bench in the great hall, and leaned his 
 head against a stone pillar, drawing his mantle over 
 
57 
 
 his face. His companions followed him in silence, 
 and sat down about him in the great hall. Only 
 
 The Norman fleet set sail. 
 
 one, bolder than all the rest, dared at length to 
 speak. "Arise and be doing," he cried. "There is 
 no need for mourning. Cross the sea, and snatch 
 the kingdom from the usurpers hand." 
 
 The old Viking blood was aroused in William. 
 He sent messengers into all the neighboring coun- 
 tries, offering gold and castles in England to any 
 man who would come and serve him with bow and 
 spear. He ordered the trees of the Norman forests 
 to be hewn down and ships built of them. He sent 
 word to the Pope that Harold had broken his oath, 
 and asked his leave to punish the usurper. The Pope 
 sent back his consent and a banner which he had 
 blessed. 
 
 On the afternoon of September 27 the Norman 
 fleet set sail. At nine the next morning the Mora, 
 
5 8 
 
 William's vessel, lay at anchor on the coast of Sussex. 
 As William set foot on English soil, he stumbled and 
 fell, and his men gave a groan at this omen of ill luck. 
 But the duke seized a handful of sand, crying, " By 
 the splendor of God, I have taken my kingdom ; see 
 the earth of England in my two hands." 
 
 In the meantime Harold had been fighting in the 
 North, and was at a feast celebrating a great victory, 
 when word came that the Normans had landed on 
 his shore. With all speed he made his way to the 
 South, collecting his army as he went. In the mid- 
 dle of October, in the year 1066, the English and 
 Normans stood face to face, arrayed for battle. The 
 English stood on a hill, every soldier covered by his 
 shield and armed with his huge battle ax. In the 
 •midst of them stood the noble Harold, on foot, hold- 
 ing the royal banner. 
 
 On the hill opposite were drawn up the Norman 
 host. In front ranged the archers in a long line; 
 behind them the foot soldiers, and in the rear the 
 horsemen. " God help us ! " was their battle cry ; and 
 it sprang from many hundred lips. 
 
 " God's Rood ! Holy Rood ! " answered the Eng- 
 lish ; and they waited for the Normans to make the 
 attack. A tall Norman knight rode forth alone on 
 a prancing steed, tossing his heavy sword in the air 
 and catching it as it fell, and singing songs of the 
 
59 
 
6o 
 
 bravery of his fellow countrymen. From the Eng- 
 lish forces, a knight rode out to meet him, and fell 
 by the Norman's hand. A second English knight 
 advanced, and fell. The third came forth, and killed 
 the Norman. The battle of Hastings had begun. 
 
 It began at dawn ; at sunset it was still raging. 
 Once the cry went out that William had been slain. 
 Duke William instantly snatched his helmet from 
 his head, and shouting " I live ! " rode down the 
 front of his line. 
 
 At last 'William feigned a retreat. The excited 
 English, confident in their victory, rushed upon the 
 Normans. Then the Normans turned about. 
 
 " There are still thousands of the English firm as 
 rocks about their king. Shoot ! " was William's cry. 
 And the Norman arrows fell like hail on the 
 English host. The Normans won the day. The 
 English found their king among the slain, and knew 
 that their cause was lost. 
 
 On Christmas Day, William, Duke of Normandy, 
 was crowned in Westminster Abbey as William I 
 of England. The question was put first in French 
 to the Normans, " Will you have William for your 
 king?" 
 
 They answered, " Yea, yea." 
 
 Then it was repeated to the Saxons in English, 
 and their reply was the same, " Yea, yea." 
 
6i 
 
 In fact, so loudly did the Saxons shout their an- 
 swer that the Norman guards outside mistook it for 
 
 Coronation of William the Conqueror. 
 
 an outbreak. They began to set fire to the neigh- 
 boring buildings, and a great tumult arose. The 
 
62 
 
 crowd rushed out of the church in terror, and Wil- 
 liam was left alone in the Abbey with a few priests, 
 who hastened to place the crown upon his head. 
 
 William had won his kingdom by might, and he 
 was obliged to keep it by might. He brought over 
 many Norman nobles, and had them build Norman 
 castles all over England to defend him. At Lon- 
 don he built the Tower, where hundreds of armed 
 men stood ready to put down any rebellion. 
 
 William was always the Conqueror, and his rule 
 in England was severe. Still he bound the English 
 together into one people, as they had never been 
 united before. Like the Roman conquerors, the 
 Normans, too, did much for England. The Nor- 
 mans taught the English how to build better build- 
 ings ; they blended their Norman French with the 
 harsh Anglo-Saxon tongue, and gradually the new 
 English language was born. 
 
 Yet England never loved the Conqueror. There 
 was no grief in the land when he died. He met his 
 death in France, where he was at war with the 
 French king. True to the old Norman fashion, he 
 had plundered the town of Nantes and then set it 
 on fire. Riding over the ruined city, his horse set 
 foot on some glowing embers, reared, and William 
 was thrown forward against the pommel of his sad- 
 dle, receiving his death wound. He lay for six 
 
63 
 
 weeks in a little monastery near Rouen, where he 
 made his will, leaving England to his son William, 
 Normandy to his son Robert, and a large sum of 
 money to Henry, the youngest. The sons were so 
 anxious to seize their new possessions that they hur- 
 ried away without waiting for their father to die, and 
 William the Conqueror was buried by the priests in 
 an unknown grave, across the sea from the land 
 which he had conquered. 
 
 3XKC 
 
 KING HENRY AND THE WHITE SHIP 
 
 Two of William's sons ruled England after him ; 
 his namesake first, who was called William Rufus 
 because of his red beard, and, on his death, Henry, 
 who bore the name of Beauclerc, or the Scholar. 
 William, as soon as he heard that his father was 
 dying, came hurrying in breathless haste to Win- 
 chester to claim his throne. This same greed 
 showed all through his reign. He sought to get 
 Normandy away from his brother Robert, and thus 
 brought many wars upon England. There was 
 little grief felt when the news came that the Red 
 King was dead. He went a-hunting one morning 
 in one of the great forests that his father had 
 stocked with game. A single companion rode out 
 
6 4 
 
 by his side into the wood. That evening a poor 
 charcoal burner going home found the body of the 
 king shot through by an arrow. 
 
 With no less speed than William had shown on 
 his father's death, Henry now hastened to Winches- 
 ter to seize the royal treasury. But the keeper of 
 the treasury refused to give it up. Then Henry the 
 Scholar drew his sword from the scabbard, and 
 threatened to kill the treasurer. As the treasurer 
 stood alone and Henry was surrounded by a group 
 of barons who were determined to make him king, 
 the treasurer stepped aside, and Henry took the 
 jewels and the crown for his own. Three days later 
 the coronation took place in Westminster Abbey, 
 and Henry I " promised God and all the people to 
 put down all the injustices that were in his brother's 
 time, and to maintain the best laws that stood in 
 any king's day before him." 
 
 One of his first deeds was to imprison in the 
 Tower Flambard, or Firebrand, whom the Red 
 King had made Bishop of Durham. His reason for 
 doing this seemed -to be because Firebrand had been 
 a favorite of William Rufus. Firebrand was a very 
 jolly man, and soon had won the friendship of all 
 his keepers by his jokes and good nature. They 
 pretended not to see a long rope that was sent into 
 the Tower coiled at the bottom of a cask of wine. 
 
65 
 
 The guards took the wine, and the bishop the rope, 
 and the next morning he was out at sea on his way 
 to Normandy. 
 
 In Normandy he met Robert, Henry's older 
 brother, who had been away on a crusade at the 
 time of the Red King's death. Firebrand and 
 others persuaded Robert that he should have been 
 king of England instead of Henry, and urged him 
 to declare war upon his brother. Most of the 
 English took Henry's side, but one, the Earl of 
 Shrewsbury, went over to Robert. There was, how- 
 ever, no war. Robert was a gentle, trusting nature, 
 and when his brother promised to pay him a pension 
 and to pardon all his followers, he returned home to 
 Normandy. King Henry's way of keeping his 
 promise was to first banish the Earl of Shrewsbury 
 from the land. The earl fled to Normandy, where 
 Robert befriended him. 
 
 Meantime Henry had but been waiting for an 
 excuse to attack Robert. He declared now that 
 Robert had broken the treaty, and invaded Nor- 
 mandy, saying he had come to free the Normans 
 fcfrom his brother's misrule. Indeed, affairs were 
 going very bad in Normandy, for Robert, although 
 good and kind, was not a ruler. He trusted 
 all men, and his servants were quick to perceive 
 this. It was said that sometimes he had to lie 
 
 LIT. STO. OF ENG. — C 
 
66 
 
 abed all day because his servants had stolen all his 
 clothes. 
 
 But he headed his troops now like a brave prince 
 and gallant soldier, and went to the war. Fortune 
 went against him, however. He was taken prisoner, 
 and sentenced by his brother to be shut up for life 
 in one of the royal castles. He was allowed to 
 ride out, but only under strict guard. One morn- 
 ing he broke from the guard and galloped off. He 
 might have escaped, but that his path crossed a 
 swamp. The horse stuck fast in the marsh, and 
 the royal prisoner was taken back to the castle. 
 When Henry heard of this, he ordered him to be 
 blinded. 
 
 So for years and years poor Robert lived on in 
 his dark prison, a sad-hearted, lonely man, glad 
 enough to die when the end came. 
 
 There was a great sorrow in store for King 
 Henry I, in spite of his victories. He was very 
 eager that Normandy should always belong to the 
 English king. Thus he set sail, one fair day, with 
 his only son, for Normandy. He wished to have 
 the Norman nobles acknowledge the prince as their 
 future sovereign. The ceremony was performed 
 with great pomp, and in November Henry, his 
 retinue, and the prince were ready to embark for 
 England. On the very day on which they were to 
 
6 7 
 
 set sail, an old sea captain, Fitz Stephen, came to 
 the king and said : — 
 
 " My liege, the king, my father served your father, 
 the great William, for many years upon the sea. 
 His hand was at 
 the helm of the 
 Boat with the 
 Golden Boy that 
 brought the Con- 
 queror to England. 
 I ask of you this 
 boon, that I may 
 carry you in my 
 boat, the White 
 Ship, across the 
 same path that my 
 father bore your 
 father." 
 
 " It grieves me," 
 replied the king, 
 " that I cannot 
 grant this request; 
 but my vessel is already chosen and made ready. 
 I will, however, intrust to your White Ship, and 
 your hand, the prince and all his company." 
 
 An hour later, when the wind was fair, the king 
 set sail, and came the next morning safely to the 
 
 "The king set sail. 
 
68 
 
 English shore. But the prince delayed his sailing. 
 He loved Normandy, and hated England. " When 
 I am king," he had once said, " I will yoke the 
 English to the plow like oxen." He did not sail 
 until night. One hundred nobles and eighteen 
 ladies of high rank came on to the White Ship to 
 sail with him. 
 
 " Now let us make merry before we leave," quoth 
 the Prince. " Let each of the fifty sailors have his 
 fill of wine. We have time yet to reach England 
 with the rest." 
 
 They made merry indeed. The sailors drank their 
 flasks of wine, and the noble lords and ladies danced 
 on the deck in the moonlight. At last the command 
 was given to sail, and Fitz Stephen stood at the helm. 
 The Prince cried to the sailors to ply their oars for 
 the honor of the White Ship. 
 
 In the night there was a terrible crash, and then 
 the White Ship stood still. She had struck upon 
 the rocks. Fitz Stephen hurried the Prince into a 
 small boat with some nobles: — 
 
 " Row for the land with all your might," he cried. 
 
 But as they were rowing, the prince heard the voice 
 of his sister Marie. " Row back — back at any risk," 
 he cried. 
 
 The rowboat turned back. As it came near the 
 sinking ship, a hundred or more nobles and seamen 
 
6 9 
 
 rushed forward and sprang into it. It was the one 
 means of escape. The small boat upset, and the sink- 
 ing ship went down. They sank together. Only 
 two men floated on the sea, clinging to the broken 
 mast. 
 
 " Who are you ? " asked one. 
 
 " I am a nobleman, Godfrey by name ; and who 
 are you ? " 
 
 " I am Berold, a poor butcher of Rouen." 
 
 Then they added in one breath " God be merci- 
 ful to us both." 
 
 Through the darkness they slowly distinguished 
 another swimmer. It was Fitz Stephen. " Where 
 is the prince? " he cried. 
 
 " Drowned," was the answer. Then Fitz Stephen 
 cried," Woe is me," and sank, even as his ship had 
 sunk. 
 
 The other two clung to the mast a little longer un- 
 til Godfrey's hands were so chilled that he could hold 
 on no longer. " Farewell, my friend, may God pre- 
 serve you," he said feebly, and let go. Only the 
 butcher survived to tell the terrible tale. Some fisher- 
 men found him the next morning, more dead than 
 alive, floating in his great sheepskin coat. 
 
 For three days no one was found brave enough to 
 bear the sad news to the king. At last a little boy 
 was sent in, but he could only weep, and finally stam- 
 
;o 
 
 mered, " The White Ship." That was enough. The 
 king understood, and though he lived to reign seven 
 years longer over England, he was never seen to smile 
 
 >XX< 
 
 THOMAS A BECKET 
 
 Once upon a time a London merchant, Gilbert a 
 Becket, went on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. 
 Before he reached Jerusalem, however, he and his 
 servant Richard were both captured by a Saracen lord. 
 The Saracen had one daughter, who was very beau- 
 tiful, and who straightway fell in love with the Eng- 
 lish prisoner, and promised to help him to escape if he 
 would carry her home with him to England. Gil- 
 bert's heart was touched by her beauty and her love, 
 and he promised to wed her if she would free him. 
 At last an opportunity of escape came, and Gilbert 
 fled from the Saracens, quite forgetting in his haste 
 both the Saracen lady and his promises to her. But 
 she did not forget him so soon. Gathering together 
 her jewels and gold, she dressed herself in disguise, 
 and went out to follow him. Two English words 
 were all she knew: " London " and her lover's name, 
 "Gilbert." When she came to the seacoast she 
 wandered up and down among the ships, repeating 
 over and over, " London," " London," " London " and 
 
7i 
 
 showing her jewels. Finally the sailors understood 
 that she wanted to go to London, and was offering 
 her jewels to pay her passage. So they put her in 
 an English ship and bade her God-speed. 
 
 One day Gilbert a Becket, busy in his counting 
 house, heard a great noise in the street. He looked 
 out, and saw a great crowd gathered about a lady 
 dressed in the bright-colored costume of the East. 
 Just then Richard, his servant, came running in, 
 shouting: " Master, master, the Saracen lady is here 
 in London going up and down the streets crying 
 "Gilbert." Gilbert could not believe the words, but 
 he looked again, and his eyes told him that Richard 
 had spoken truly. Then he bade him fetch her in; 
 and when the lady saw her lover she fainted in his 
 arms. In a few days they were married. They had 
 one son, Thomas, who became the favorite of King 
 Henry II of England. Thomas was very clever, 
 very brave, and very rich. When the king made 
 him chancellor of England, he lived in state almost 
 equal to the king. He was sent once as ambassador 
 to France, and when he entered that country "his 
 procession was headed by two hundred and fifty 
 boys. Then came his hounds in couples; then eight 
 wagons, each drawn by five horses driven by five 
 drivers; two of the wagons filled with strong ale to 
 be given away, four with his gold and silver plate 
 
72 
 
 and stately clothes ; two with the dresses of his 
 numerous servants. Then came twelve horses, each 
 with a monkey on his back ; then a train of people 
 bearing shields and leading five war horses splen- 
 didly equipped; then falconers with hawks upon 
 their wrists; then a host of knights, and gentlemen 
 and priests; then the chancellor with his brilliant 
 garments flashing in the sun, and all the people 
 capering and shouting with delight." 
 
 The king was delighted to have such a fa- 
 vorite. He thought it made his own splendor 
 greater to have such a chancellor. If we would 
 
 o 
 
 know how Henry II himself looked, we must 
 look among the old chronicles. " You ask me to 
 send you an accurate description of the appearance 
 and character of the King of England," writes Peter 
 of Blois, secretary to Henry II. "You may know 
 then that our king is still ruddy, except as old age 
 and whitening hair have changed his color a little. 
 He is of medium stature so that among small men 
 he does not seem large, nor yet among large men 
 does he seem small. His head is spherical, as if the 
 abode of great wisdom. . . . His eyes are full, guile- 
 less and dovelike when he is at oeace, gleaming like 
 fire when his temper is aroused, and in bursts of 
 passion they flash like lightning. . . . His feet are 
 arched and he has the legs of a horseman. Although 
 
73 
 
 his legs are bruised from hard riding, he never sits 
 down except when on horseback or at meals. . . . He 
 does not loiter in his palace like other kings, but 
 hurrying through the provinces he investigates what 
 is being done everywhere." 
 
 This was King Henry II of England. Such a 
 king was eager to be sole leader in the land. When 
 Henry found that the churches looked to their 
 bishops instead of to him, he decided to make his 
 chancellor, Thomas a Becket, Archbishop of Can- 
 terbury. He thought that through him he would 
 have control over the Church. 
 
 Thomas a Becket hesitated to accept, but his long- 
 ing for fame finally made him consent. Great now 
 was Henry's surprise when Thomas suddenly 
 changed the whole manner of living. He turned 
 off his brilliantly clad followers. He ate coarse food, 
 dressed himself in sackcloth, and washed the feet 
 of thirteen pilgrims every day. He was soon talked 
 about as archbishop much more than he had been as 
 chancellor. 
 
 At first the king was amused, then, when Thomas 
 strongly took the side of the Church in all disputes 
 between the clergy and the crown, the king grew 
 angry. A great quarrel arose. Finally Thomas a 
 Becket, disguised as poor Brother Deaman, had to 
 'flee to Flanders. After many years, the king of 
 
74 
 
 France arranged a meeting between Henry and 
 Thomas a Becket, to try to bring about peace. The 
 quarrel had gone on for six years, and both men were 
 utterly weary of it. They decided to forget the past. 
 The archbishop came back to England, although he 
 had been warned that he should not live to eat a 
 loaf of bread there. 
 
 The first piece of news that reached his ears on 
 arriving home was that during his absence Henry II 
 had had his eldest son crowned. This so enraged 
 the Archbishop of Canterbury that he at once ex- 
 communicated the bishops who had performed the 
 coronation. Henry II was in Normandy. When 
 word was brought him of Becket's deed, he cried out 
 before all his court, " Will no one deliver me from 
 this man ? " 
 
 Four knights who were present slipped quietly 
 out of the room. A clay or so later they appeared 
 before the Archbishop of Canterbury. They neither 
 bowed nor spoke, but sat down upon the floor. At 
 length Thomas a Becket said, " What do you want ? " 
 
 " That you take off the excommunication from 
 the bishops," was their reply. 
 
 When he refused they went out, sullen and defiant. 
 They came back a little later, fully armed and with 
 drawn swords. But in the meantime the archbishop 
 had gone into the cathedral to service. His servants 
 
75 
 
 would have fastened the church doors, but he said, 
 " No. This is God's house and not a fortress." 
 
 Even as he was speaking the four knights came 
 through the door. Their sword blades flashed 
 
 Thomas a Becket. 
 
 through the darkness of the church, and their armed 
 tread resounded as they came over the stone pave- 
 ment. " Where is the traitor ? " they shouted. 
 
 Thomas a Becket turned where he stood, beside 
 a great stone pillar, but he made no answer. 
 
 " Where is the archbishop ? " they thundered. 
 
 " I am here," answered Becket proudly. 
 
 Then they slew him, then and there, in his own 
 cathedral. 
 
7 6 
 
 When the king learned of the archbishop's death, 
 he was filled with dismay, and declared that his 
 words were uttered in a fit of temper, and he had 
 no desire that they should be fulfilled. The knights 
 who had done the terrible deed fled from the court, 
 and finally for penance went to Jerusalem where 
 they died. 
 
 With Thomas a Becket dead, Henry II could rule 
 very much as he pleased. But there were sad days 
 waiting for the close of his reign. His son Henry, 
 whom he had had crowned, died, and his other two 
 sons revolted against him, trying to seize the crown. 
 When Henry II saw that the name of his favorite 
 son was among the conspirators, he leaned his face 
 to the wall. " Let things go now as they will," he 
 moaned ; " I care no more for myself or the world." 
 
 >XKc 
 
 RICHARD I — ENGLAND'S ROYAL CRUSADER 
 
 In the year 11 88, the news reached Europe that 
 Jerusalem had again fallen into the hands of the 
 Turks. The crusading spirit spread across the 
 continent. Even the kings and princes pledged 
 themselves to give their personal aid in recapturing 
 Jerusalem. Among the foremost to give his promise 
 was Richard of the Lion Heart, one of Henry's re- 
 
77 
 
 bellious sons. When, a year later, Henry died, and 
 
 Richard bethought 
 
 him of all his cruel 
 
 deeds toward his 
 
 father, he was the 
 
 more eager to go to 
 
 the Holy Land. 
 
 The crusade w r ould 
 
 bring him full pardon, 
 
 he believed, for all 
 
 his misdeeds. 
 
 Richard was 
 crowned in West- 
 minster Abbey with 
 great ceremony. He 
 marched into the 
 church under a silken 
 panoply, stretched 
 on the top of four 
 lances, each carried 
 by a mighty lord. 
 As soon as the cor- 
 onation was over, he 
 began to raise money 
 
 for the Crusade. He Richard of the Lion Heart. 
 
 sold the lands which 
 
 belonged to the crown. He sold his castles. He 
 
 v .p#y 
 
 '■-..< % 
 
 
 
 
 *"*** 
 
 ^ Mm 
 
 
 ■ m 
 
 1 m 
 
 
 'B^^ 
 
 i A- 
 
 
 J* 
 
7 8 
 
 said he would even sell London itself, if he could 
 find a purchaser whose purse was long enough. At 
 last he set out with his splendid army, leaving his 
 kingdom in the care of two bishops and his brother 
 John, 
 
 Richard stopped first at the island of Messina in 
 Sicily. His sister had married the king there, but 
 he had died, and his brother, Tancred, had seized the 
 throne and put the widow in prison. Richard made 
 it his first duty to free his sister. His large forces 
 soon frightened Tancred into submission. He re- 
 leased Richard's sister, restored her lands, and pre- 
 sented her with a golden chain, four-and-twenty 
 silver cups, and four-and-twenty silver dishes. 
 
 So when peace was once more brought about in 
 the island, Richard sailed on to Cyprus. We may 
 well imagine that the restless, burly Richard was 
 only too glad to pick a quarrel with the sovereign of 
 this island. Before many days there was fighting, 
 and the end of it was that Richard ordered the king 
 to be bound in silver fetters, and claimed Cyprus 
 for his own. 
 
 These exploits of Richard made Philip of France, 
 w T ho was also on his way to the Holy Land, very 
 jealous. Richard and he had been great friends, 
 but when the two monarchs met now at Acre, 
 neither would agree with the other as to the 
 
79 
 
 best time to make an attack on this town. The 
 result of it was that Philip of France finally gave 
 up the crusade and returned to his own country. 
 
 Richard had now left one other royal ally, the 
 Duke of Austria, and before very long he had quar- 
 reled with him. There came a pause in the fighting, 
 and during this time Richard busied his men by 
 rebuilding some fortifications. When he asked the 
 Duke of Austria to assist in this task, the latter 
 replied, " I am not a bricklayer." Whereupon 
 Richard is reported to have kicked the duke, who 
 returned to Austria in a rage. 
 
 With his enemies, Richard managed to keep 
 on better terms. Saladin, the ruler of the Sara- 
 cens, was a finely built man, as stanch and brave 
 a fio-hter as the lion-hearted English kine. He and 
 Richard both admired each other, and when they 
 were not in battle, were very friendly. 
 
 There is a story that Richard visited Saladin 
 in his tent, and was boasting of his skill as a 
 swordsman. 
 
 " Come now and show us what your royal high- 
 ness can do!" said Saladin at last. 
 
 Then Richard drew his sword, and with one 
 mighty stroke cut in two one of the huge iron 
 props of the tent. Saladin and all his court ap- 
 plauded loudly. Then the ruler of the Saracens 
 
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 Richard Fighting the Saracens. 
 
 unsheathed his sword. He took a flimsy veil from 
 the neck of one of the dancing girls who sat at his 
 feet, and tossed it into the air. As it floated down- 
 ward, like a soft cloud, he unsheathed his sword, 
 and with a deft blow cut it in twain. 
 
 Afterwards, when Richard fell ill of the desert 
 fever, Saladin sent him fruits and snow and ice 
 which had been brought down from the summit 
 
of Mount Lebanon. Still this friendship was en- 
 tirely forgotten when the war was on, and many 
 brave English 
 
 soldiers were left 
 dead upon the des- 
 ert before Richard 
 turned his face 
 southward. 
 
 They reached 
 Jerusalem at last. 
 But rumors of 
 troubles in Eng- 
 land had come to 
 Richard's ears, and 
 he bethought him 
 that it was time for 
 him to go back 
 and look after his 
 people. He stayed 
 in Palestine only 
 long enough to 
 deliver some 
 
 Christians whom 
 the Saracens were 
 
 besieging. Then he signed a truce with the 
 Saracens to last three years, three months, three 
 weeks, and three days. The weather was threaten- 
 
 LIT. STO. OF ENG. — 6 
 
 A Crusader. 
 
82 
 
 ing, but the impatient Richard heeded neither wind 
 nor tide. He set sail in a small vessel with a few 
 followers, only to be shipwrecked in the Adriatic 
 Sea. With great difficulty he succeeded in reaching 
 land, and then determined to make his way home 
 on foot. 
 
 As he had to go through Austria, he disguised 
 himself as a poor pilgrim, hoping thus to escape the 
 notice of the duke. He feared 
 that the duke's anger had not sub- 
 sided yet, and in a few days he 
 learned that this was true. Rich- 
 ard was recognized by a ring which 
 he always wore. He was taken 
 prisoner and hidden in a German 
 castle. 
 
 When the rumor of his imprison- 
 ment spread over Europe, Philip 
 of France and Richard's brother 
 John rejoiced greatly. They be- 
 gan to plan how they would di- 
 vide up his kingdom. But one 
 heart, so an old story goes, beat true to his king. 
 Blondel, a young minstrel, resolved to find and free 
 his master. He set out across Europe, earning his 
 daily bread by singing in the streets. Every time 
 he came to a castle, he paused and sang beneath its 
 
 Blondel discovers 
 Richard. 
 
83 
 
 walls, hoping his master might hear him and reply. 
 One night his heart was very sad, and beneath an 
 ivied turret he sat down to rest, and sang softly the 
 first verse of a song which only he and Richard 
 knew. As he finished the verse, a strong voice 
 from within the tower took up the second stanza. 
 He hastened back to England to tell the people 
 that Richard was found. 
 
 The German emperor refused to free Richard 
 until a large ransom was paid, but this the English 
 people quickly raised, and King Richard returned 
 to his throne. 
 
 King Richard loved a fight. He found plenty of 
 trouble awaiting him at home. Then, when he had 
 settled the affairs of his realm, he made war with 
 France. During a truce, word came to him that an 
 English lord, the Viscount of Limoges, had dug up 
 a great treasure on his land, twelve knights of gold 
 seated at a golden table. Being the king's vassal, 
 and an honest one at that, he immediately sent one 
 half of the treasure to his king ; but the king de- 
 manded the whole. When the viscount refused to 
 give it, he returned to England and besieged his 
 castle. 
 
 Now there was an old song that had often been 
 sung in that part of the country, saying that an ar- 
 row should be made in Limoges by which Richard 
 
84 
 
 should die. This arrow lay in the quiver of Ber- 
 trand de Gourdon. From his post within the castle 
 he could easily distinguish the king. Richard's 
 great figure towered above all his men. Bertrand 
 de Gourdon took aim, and the arrow flew to its 
 mark. The wound was not fatal, but Richard had 
 to retire to his tent. The physicians who attended 
 him did their work so badly that it soon became 
 known that Richard was dying. 
 
 The castle was taken, and all who had fought 
 against the king were put to death. Only one life 
 was to be saved, that of Bertrand de Gourdon. He 
 was put in chains and brought before Richard. He 
 met Richard's bold gaze by one equally bold. 
 " Knave," said the king, " what did I ever do to 
 thee that thou shouldst take my life? " 
 
 The knight pointed to the ruined castle. " Yon- 
 der my father and my two brothers lie slain by thine 
 hand. Myself thou wouldst have hanged. Torture 
 me now as thou wilt. I am content, since through 
 me England is quit of such a king." 
 
 A gentle note came into the king's voice. 
 " Youth," he said, " I forgive thee. Take off his 
 chains," he said to his guard; "give him a hundred 
 shillings, and let the youth go free." 
 
 He sank down on his couch and died. And the 
 officers, who had truly loved their lord, heeded not 
 
85 
 
 his last command, but in their grief hanged Ber- 
 trand who had slain Richard of the Lion Heart. 
 
 3 ^< 
 
 ROBIN HOOD OF SHERWOOD FOREST 
 
 It was in the days of King Richards reign, that 
 Robin Hood, England's boldest outlaw, lived in 
 Sherwood Forest, with his famous archers, all clad 
 in Lincoln green. The lieutenant of Robin Hood's 
 band was named' Little John because of his size. 
 They say that he stood seven feet high or more, 
 and measured an ell around the waist. And this is 
 the manner in which Robin Hood first met Little 
 John. 
 
 The hunting was poor in Sherwood Forest, and 
 Robin Hood had told his men that he would go out 
 alone. He made his way through the wood and 
 was crossing a stream on a narrow foot bridge when 
 he met a stranger half way. Neither would give 
 way to let the other pass. Then Robin Hood grew 
 angry and drew his bow to shoot the man. But the 
 stranger spoke up boldly : — 
 
 " You are indeed a fine fellow to shoot at a man 
 who has naught with him but a staff." 
 
 " That is just, truly," replied the outlaw ; " and 
 so I will lay down my bow and arrow and get me a 
 
86 
 
 staff like thine to try if thy deeds be as good as thy 
 
 words." 
 
 So saying, he went into a thicket and cut himself 
 
 a young oak sapling and returned to the foot bridge. 
 
 " Now I am 
 your match," he 
 cried, " and whoso 
 shall first knock 
 the other into the 
 water shall be 
 
 awarded the 
 tory." 
 
 vic- 
 
 So they sparred 
 together with their 
 staves right mer- 
 rily. First Robin 
 smote the stranger 
 such a blow that it 
 warmed his blood 
 from top to toe, and 
 u their sticks rattled 
 as if they had been 
 threshing corn." But the stranger had the greater 
 strength. He brought his stave down on Robin's 
 head with such force that the outlaw fell headlong 
 into the stream. Then the stranger laughed loud 
 and long. Looking down into the water, he cried: — 
 
 Robin and Little John. 
 
8; 
 
 " Where are you now, my good fellow ? " 
 
 And Robin answered as he waded to the shore, 
 " I grant that thou hast won the day." 
 
 Then he raised his horn to his lips and blew a 
 blast. And at that, fifty bowmen, clad in green, 
 sprang out of the wood and rallied about them. 
 
 " Why, master, ye are wet to the skin," cried one 
 of his men. " What may this mean ? " 
 
 " Naught," responded Robin, " save that that 
 fellow on yonder bridge tumbled me into the 
 water." 
 
 Then the men would have seized the stranger 
 and ducked him, but Robin forbade them. 
 
 " No one shall harm thee, friend," he said, " of 
 all these my bowmen ; but if you will be one of 
 us, you shall straightway have my livery. What 
 say you ?" 
 
 " With all my heart," said the stranger. " Here is 
 my hand upon it. My name is John Little, and I 
 will be a good man and true to you." 
 
 Then Robin took his hand, and laughing, said, 
 " Not John Little, but Little John," for, as I told 
 you, he stood seven feet and measured an ell about 
 the waist. And then and there they christened him 
 Little John, and he lived ever in the green wood 
 with Robin Hood. 
 
 Now the bold and merry deeds of Robin Hood 
 
88 
 
 and his men were told throughout the land, and came 
 even to the ears of the king. They pleased King 
 Richard, and made him wish to meet the outlaw. 
 So, taking a dozen of his men, he dressed them all 
 and himself in friars' gowns and rode out one morn- 
 ing across to Sherwood Forest. They had hardly 
 
 entered the wood 
 when they came 
 upon Robin Hood 
 and his fifty yeo- 
 men drawn up 
 ready to assail 
 them. With a bold 
 step Robin came 
 forward, and seized 
 the bridle of the 
 king's horse, and 
 bade him halt. 
 As Richard was 
 the tallest, Robin 
 thought that he 
 
 Robin and King Richard. was the abbot. 
 
 " Now stand," cried Robin, " for it is against ye 
 and all like ye that we make war." 
 
 " But," answered Richard, " we are messengers 
 from the king, who is waiting not far off to speak 
 
 to you," 
 
8 9 
 
 " God save the king ! " quoth Robin, taking off 
 his cap, "and all who wish him well! And ac- 
 cursed be every man who does not acknowledge 
 that he is king." 
 
 Then replied the king, " You curse yourself, for 
 you are a traitor." 
 
 The angry look leaped into Robin's bold eye, 
 and he held the bridle fast. " Were ye not the 
 king's messenger, ye should rue that word," he an- 
 swered ; "for I never harmed an honest man in my 
 life, but only those who steal goods from others. 
 And, as you are the king's messengers, I bid you 
 welcome in Sherwood Forest, and invite you to 
 come and share our greenwood cheer." 
 
 He brought the king to his tent, and there he 
 blew upon his horn. Five score and ten of Robin 
 Hood's men answered to the call, and knelt before 
 their leader. And they laid a dinner for the king 
 and his lords, who swore that they had never tasted 
 a better. Then Robin took a can of ale, and cried, 
 "To the king! Let each man drink the health of 
 the king." And they all drank, even the king to 
 himself. 
 
 After dinner the yeomen took their long bows, 
 and showed the king such archery as he never had 
 seen before even in foreign lands. Then said the 
 king to Robin Hood : — 
 
90 
 
 " If I could get thee pardon from King Richard, 
 wouldst thou serve the king well in all that thou 
 didst ? " 
 
 " Yea, with all my heart," said Robin ; and so said 
 all his men. 
 
 Then Richard said, " I am your king, who is now 
 before you." 
 
 And at these words Robin Hood and all of his 
 men fell on their knees ; but the king bade them 
 stand, and told them they should all be pardoned if 
 they would enter his service. So Robin Hood and 
 all his men went up to London to serve the king. 
 
 But it was in Sherwood Forest that Robin met 
 his death. There was a battle, and Robin was 
 sore wounded. Then spoke he to Little John, his 
 trusted friend : — 
 
 " Now truly I cannot shoot one shot more, so 
 I will go to my cousin, the abbess in Kirkley 
 Hall, and bid her bleed me, for I am grievously 
 wounded." 
 
 Then he left Little John, and went alone to the 
 abbev, and he was so weak when he reached there 
 that he could scarce knock' upon the door. 
 
 " My cousin, ye see how weak I am," he said to 
 the abbess. " I bid ye bleed me that I may not 
 die." 
 
 And his cousin took him to an upper room, 
 
9i 
 
 where she laid him upon a bed and bled him. 
 But she hated Robin Hood because of his wild 
 pranks, and so did not tie up the vein again. Then 
 Robin knew that his life was flowing out of him, 
 
 Death of Robin. 
 
 and sought to escape from the abbey, but he could 
 not because he was so weak. Knowing that he 
 must die, he raised his horn to hear once more the 
 bugle call. 
 
 Afar in Sherwood Forest Little John heard the 
 blast, and said, " Alack and alas ! Robin must be 
 near his death, for his blast is very weak." 
 
 He got up from under the tree where he was 
 
9 2 
 
 resting, and ran to Kirkley Hall as fast as his long 
 legs could bear him. The door to the abbey was 
 locked, but Little John broke it down and came to 
 his master. He saw him lying upon the bed, and 
 his face was strangely pale. 
 
 " Good master, I beg one boon," cried Little 
 John, as he fell upon his knees. " Let me burn 
 Kirkley Hall and the nunnery to the ground ! " for 
 he saw that treachery had been done to Robin Hood. 
 
 But Robin Hood said, " Nay, I cannot grant 
 you your boon, for never in my life have I harmed 
 a woman, nor shall it be done for my sake after I 
 die. But I would ask a boon of you. Give me my 
 long bow and arrow, and open wide the casement." 
 
 Then Robin drew his bow for the last time, and 
 let the arrow fly. 
 
 "It lieth in the greenwood," quoth Robin. "Find 
 it, Little John, and where ye shall find it there dig 
 my grave. Make it long and broad, that I may lie 
 easily. Place my head upon a green sward and my 
 long bow at my side." 
 
 ^o^« 
 
 JOHN AND THE GREAT CHARTER 
 
 England has never been ruled by a worse king 
 than John. In all history we cannot find one good 
 
93 
 
 deed recorded of him. He rebelled against his 
 father, Henry II, when he was king. He was false to 
 his brother Richard when he was in the Holy Land. 
 He stole the English crown, which belonged by 
 right to Richard's little nephew ; and then he filled 
 his reign with unjust and dishonest deeds. 
 
 One of John's worst faults was that he had a ter- 
 rible temper. There is an old story that once when 
 he was on a hunting trip he lost his way in a swamp 
 near Olmwick. So angry was he over this misfor- 
 tune that he swore to himself that every free man in 
 the town should have the same experience. Conse- 
 quently when the young men of Olmwick became of 
 age, they were obliged to dress themselves in their 
 best clothes and go down and wade through this 
 muddy swamp. 
 
 It is not surprising to learn that a man with such 
 a temper was continually quarreling. One of his 
 greatest quarrels arose over the appointing of a new 
 archbishop of Canterbury. John chose one man. 
 The bishops chose another. When the matter was 
 sent to the Pope to be decided, he chose a third, 
 Stephen Langton. Now John hated Langton because 
 he was a good and holy man. He refused to let 
 Langton act as archbishop. Then the Pope showed 
 his power. He placed England under an interdict. 
 For six years no church bells sounded in the land. 
 
94 
 
 No services were held in the churches. It was not 
 even allowed to read the burial service for the dead. 
 But John did not care. Even when the Pope went 
 further and deposed John, giving his kingdom to 
 Philip of France, the king only laughed. But John 
 was always a coward. When he saw that an army 
 was being collected to invade England, he became 
 frightened. He begged the Pope's forgiveness; he 
 promised to receive Langton; he laid his crown at 
 the feet of the papal legate to show that he yielded 
 his kingdom to the Pope; and he promised to pay a 
 yearly tribute. The Pope at once removed the inter- 
 dict, and forbade Philip to bring his army across 
 the Channel. John felt now that all was well once 
 more. 
 
 But the English barons were far from pleased at 
 John's deeds. They did not wish to become vassals 
 of the Pope. They wanted England to be a free 
 land and they themselves to be freemen. They saw 
 that John had no real love for the English people. 
 They despised his cowardice. At last they united 
 under the leadership of the Archbishop of Canter- 
 bury, and demanded of John that he sign a paper, 
 stating what were the rights of the English people, 
 and restoring to them their tributes. When the 
 king read the paper, he went half mad with rage. 
 " Why do they not ask me for my kingdom ? " he 
 
95 
 
 cried out. " I will never grant such liberties as will 
 make me a slave." 
 
 The archbishop brought back the king's refusal. 
 The barons then formed into a great army, which 
 they called " The Army of God and the Holy Church," 
 and marched against London. London threw open 
 her gates, and other towns were quick to follow her 
 example. The king was taken quite by surprise. Only 
 seven knights had remained on his side. He agreed 
 to meet the barons on an island in the Thames, at 
 the meadows of Runnymede, on the fifteenth of June. 
 
 On that date the barons and their army were 
 gathered on one bank of the river. The king was 
 encamped on the other. Delegates from both sides 
 were sent to the island. The Great Charter was 
 talked over, and that very day King John put his 
 sign and seal to it. He did not dare do otherwise. 
 Copies of the charter were sent through the land, to 
 be posted in all the cathedrals, and one copy still 
 remains to-day, brown with age, one of the greatest 
 treasures of the British Museum. 
 
 The barons knew that John, who had so often 
 broken his word, would not keep these promises un- 
 less they forced him to. So before they parted, they 
 appointed twenty-four barons, whose duty it should 
 be to see that John ruled according to the charter, 
 and to declare war upon him if he failed to do so. 
 
9 6 
 
 King John signing the Great Charter. 
 
 "They have given me four and twenty overkings," 
 cried John, throwing himself on the floor in another 
 
97 
 
 fit of rage. Surely, such a king had need of over- 
 kings. But nothing could hold John to his word. 
 He broke his promises, and then sent secretly to 
 Europe for an army of foreign, paid soldiers. The 
 barons as a last resort called Louis, the son of the 
 King of France, to come and rule over them. As 
 soon as Louis landed, King John fled. He always 
 ran away as soon as a battle began. There was the 
 greatest confusion throughout the land. In the 
 midst of it all King John died. He was crossing a 
 dangerous quicksand called the Wash, when the tide 
 came up and nearly drowned his army. The royal 
 treasure was swept away, and horses and baggage 
 carried off in the swift current. Cursing his ill. luck, 
 the king hurried on to Swinestead Monastery. The 
 monks, knowing his fondness for good things to eat, 
 put before him ripe peaches and pears and beer. 
 The king devoured this repast, and the next day lay 
 ill with a burning fever. A horse litter was made 
 ready in all haste, and the king carried to the nearest 
 castle. A few days later he died, and England was 
 free from as bad a king as ever sat upon the English 
 throne. 
 
 LIT. STO. OF ENG. 
 
9 8 
 
 HENRY III 
 
 The jeweled crown had been lost in the flood 
 with the other royal treasure, so John's little son 
 was crowned with a circle of plain gold. 
 
 " We have been the enemy of this child's father," 
 said Lord Pembroke at the coronation; " and he 
 merited our ill will ; but the child himself is inno- 
 cent, and his youth demands our friendship and 
 protection." 
 
 So the ten-year-old boy was crowned Henry III 
 of England, and Lord Pembroke chosen as regent, 
 to rule until Henry should become of age. 
 
 Lord Pembroke's first act was to promise to rule 
 according to the Great Charter. That brought 
 many of the barons, who had revolted against John, 
 over to his side. Yet there were Prince Louis of 
 France and his followers still in the land. But at 
 last they were defeated in a sea fight, and Prince 
 Louis went back to his own country, so poor, it is 
 said, that he had to borrow money from the citizens 
 of London to pay his traveling expenses. 
 
 At the end of three years Lord Pembroke died 
 and two protectors were chosen to look after the 
 affairs of the kingdom, Peter de Roches, and Hu- 
 bert de Burgh, who defeated the fleet of Prince 
 Louis. These two personages did not like each 
 
99 
 
 other, and when the king became of age Peter de 
 Roches retired and went abroad. After an absence 
 of ten years he returned. The king, in the mean- 
 time, had grown tired of Hubert, and welcomed De 
 Roches. He sought to find some way of getting rid 
 of Hubert. Finally he accused him of misusing 
 some of the funds in the royal treasury. Hubert, 
 seeing that he had fallen out of favor, fled to an ab- 
 bey instead of answering the charges. Then Henry 
 summoned the Mayor of London, and said : " Take 
 twenty thousand citizens, and drag Hubert de Burgh 
 out of that abbey, and bring him to me." Some of 
 his father's violent temper lived on in Henry. 
 
 But a friend of Hubert's warned Henry that the 
 abbey was sacred, and he had no right to harm Hu- 
 bert there. So Henry called the mayor back, and 
 proclaimed that for four months Hubert should be 
 free to go as he chose and prepare his defense. 
 Hubert came out of the abbey, and Henry pro- 
 ceeded to break his word, just as his father had done 
 before him. He ordered one Sir Godfred and his 
 Black Band to seize Hubert. Hubert was in bed 
 when he saw them coming. He leaped out, ran to 
 the nearest church, and stood there breathless. He 
 was within the sanctuary. But the Black Band 
 cared nought for the rights of the Church. They fol- 
 lowed through the open door, and dragged Hubert 
 
IOO 
 
 out into the daylight. With swords flashing above 
 Hubert's head, they commanded the blacksmith of 
 the town then and there to rivet a set of chains upon 
 him. The smith took one look at the prisoner's face. 
 
 " This is the brave Earl Hubert de Burgh, who 
 destroyed the French fleet and has done his coun- 
 try much good service. You may kill me, if you 
 like, but never a chain will I forge for Earl Hubert 
 de Burgh." 
 
 The Black Band kicked him aside in disgust, and 
 had to be content with tying Earl Hubert on horse- 
 back and carrying him off to London Tower. 
 Thereupon the bishops became very angry because 
 the king had violated the sanctuary of the church. 
 They frightened Henry into releasing Hubert and 
 sending him back to the little church where he had 
 taken refuge. Henry did this, but he told the Black 
 Band not to let Hubert escape. A deep trench was 
 dug about the church, and a high fence built. The 
 Black Band guarded it day and night. For thirty- 
 nine days Sir Hubert held out. Then hunger drove 
 him forth from the church, and he gave himself up. 
 Once more the Black Band carried him off to the 
 Tower. He was tried, and after some months of 
 imprisonment was finally pardoned and his place 
 restored to him. This was the unhappy story of a 
 king's favorite. 
 
IOI 
 
102 
 
 As Henry grew older, he seemed to grow more 
 and more like his father. He was not so cruel, but 
 he was cowardly, and he hated the Great Charter. 
 His greatest desire seemed to be to squeeze the 
 pocketbooks of rich and poor throughout his realm 
 into the royal treasury. 
 
 In desperation, one day in May, the clergy and 
 the barons met together in Westminster Hall, each 
 one holding a burning candle in his hand. The 
 king was present too, and the archbishop read in 
 his most solemn voice the solemn words that any 
 man in England who should infringe the Great 
 Charter should be excommunicated, that is, cut off 
 from all the privileges of the Church. When he had 
 finished, there was a hush through the great hall. 
 Then all together the barons and the clergy put out 
 their candles, and uttered a curse upon any man who 
 should deserve this punishment. Solemnly the king 
 arose and promised to abide by the Great Charter. 
 " I promise to do so," he said, "as I am a man, as I 
 am a Christian, as I am a knight, as I am a king." 
 
 The king made this promise without hesitation, 
 and without hesitation he broke it. The barons 
 soon saw that they must deal with him as they had 
 with his father. When Parliament assembled the 
 next time, every man appeared clad in armor from 
 top to toe. 
 
103 
 
 The story of the king's struggle with his barons 
 is a long one. The great bell of St. Paul's at Lon- 
 don was tolled to summon the people to war against 
 their king. Simon de Montfort, the Earl of Leices- 
 ter, put himself at their head, and with his other 
 forces marched to Lewes, where Henry and his son 
 Edward lay in camp with their army. Before the 
 battle, the Earl of Leicester stood up before his 
 men, and said that Henry III had broken so many 
 oaths that he had become the enemy of God, even as 
 the Turks. Therefore he bade them wear white 
 crosses on their breasts, and fight not as against 
 Christians, but as against infidels. The next morn- 
 ing they went into battle wearing their white 
 crosses. The king and the prince were both taken 
 prisoners. 
 
 The prince was always treated like a prince, but he 
 was never allowed to go out without the Earl of Leices- 
 ter's attendants. One afternoon he rode out under 
 their guard into the country. When they came to a 
 fine, level piece of turf, the prince suggested that this 
 would be a good place to race their horses. He him- 
 self did not race, but was the umpire. As they were 
 riding home, chatting merrily over their horses, sud- 
 denly a strange rider on a gray steed rode up over 
 the top of the hill, and waved his hat once in the 
 air. 
 
104 
 
 " What signal is that ? " asked the attendants one 
 of another. And while they were puzzling their heads 
 about it, the prince put spurs to his horse andgalloped 
 away to the stranger on the top of the hill. The 
 attendants rode after them, but their horses were tired 
 with the racing, and the prince's horse was fresh. The 
 last they saw of him was a cloud of dust far down 
 the road. Prince Edward had gone to the Earl of 
 Gloucester, who had remained faithful to the king. 
 
 At Evesham Edward's forces and Simon de Mont- 
 fort's met. The earl saw that the chances were 
 against him, but he fought like the true knight that 
 he was until his horse was killed under him, and then 
 he fought on foot. The old king, seated on a great 
 war horse, rode about, getting in everybody's way. He 
 was nearly killed once, but he managed to cry out," I 
 am Henry of Winchester," and Edward, who hap- 
 pened to hear him, took his horse by the bridle and led 
 him away out of danger. The Earl of Leicester was 
 still righting when he fell, sword in hand. The leader 
 was gone, but the cause for which he had spent 
 his blood lived on, for Prince Edward stood ready to 
 carry on the good work which Simon de Montfort 
 had begun. 
 
05 
 
 EDWARD I, THE HAMMER OF THE SCOTS 
 
 Edward I was far away from his kingdom when 
 word was brought him that his father was dead and 
 he was king of England. He had gone to the 
 Holy Land on a crusade, the eighth and the last of 
 the crusades. Like Richard the Lion-hearted, 
 Edward was a valiant knight. When crossing the 
 scorching sands of Asia, his ranks of soldiers grew 
 thinner and thinner as the men died from fever and 
 fatigue. His generals grew discouraged, and wished 
 to go home. But Edward turned his face to the 
 desert, and answered : " I will go on if I go with no 
 other follower than my groom." Such a spirit 
 aroused great fear in the hearts of the Turks, and 
 they resolved to kill this prince. 
 
 One of the Saracen nobles, pretending that he 
 wished to become a Christian, sent a messenger to 
 Edward bearing a letter. As Edward was reading 
 the letter, the dark-faced slave stole nearer, drew a 
 dagger from his flowing sleeve, and sprang at 
 Edward's heart. But Edward was on the alert in 
 a moment. His arm was strong and sure. He 
 smote the slave to the ground, and killed him with 
 the dagger. A moment later he noticed that his 
 own arm had been scratched by the dagger. The 
 wound began to swell, and Edward realized that the 
 
io6 
 
 point of the dagger had been smeared with poison. 
 The physician was called at once, and, thanks to his 
 skill and the constant nursing of Eleanor, Edward's 
 wife, the prince's life was saved. 
 
 Soon after his recovery, word reached him of his 
 father's illness, and Edward turned about to go 
 home. In Italy he heard that his father had died, 
 and he had been proclaimed king. 
 
 Edward's march across Europe was a march of 
 triumph. The tales of his bravery in the Holy 
 Land went before him, and everywhere he was 
 entertained and given royal presents of purple robes 
 and prancing horses. When he landed in Dover, 
 England, and went on to Westminster, the greatest 
 rejoicing of all took place. " For the coronation 
 feast there were provided, among other eatables, 
 four hundred oxen, four hundred sheep, four hun- 
 dred and fifty pigs, eighteen wild boars, three hun- 
 dred flitches of bacon, and twenty thousand fowls. 
 The fountains ... in the streets flowed with red and 
 white wine instead of water ; the rich citizens hung 
 silks and clothes of the brightest colors out of their 
 windows to increase the beauty of the show, and 
 threw out gold and silver by whole handfuls to 
 make scrambles for the crowd. In short, there was 
 such eating and drinking, such music and capering, 
 such a ringing of bells and tossing up caps, such a 
 
xoy 
 
 shouting and singing and reveling as the narrow 
 overhanging streets of London had not witnessed in 
 many a day." 
 
 Kins: Edward I was a bold thinker. At the be- 
 ginning of his reign he set his heart on being king 
 of England, Scotland, and Wales. Wales is the 
 mountainous country, lying west of England, where 
 the Britons had taken refuge at the time of the 
 Saxon Conquest. In Wales the people still spoke 
 the old Briton language, and sang and harped the 
 old Briton folk songs. There w T as a tradition in the 
 land that Merlin, the old enchanter, had prophesied 
 that when money should be round, a Welsh prince 
 would be crowned in London. Now one of 
 Edward's early decrees was that the big English 
 pennies should not be cut into halves and quarters, 
 as had been done formerly, to make half and quarter 
 pennies. So the Welsh believed that the day was 
 near when Merlin's prophecy should come true. 
 
 At this time Llewellyn was the Prince of Wales. 
 It was his duty to swear allegiance to Edward. 
 This Llewellyn refused to do. Just then it hap- 
 pened that Eleanor de Montfort, the young lady to 
 whom Llewellyn was betrothed, was returning from 
 France. The English king ordered her to be de- 
 tained until Llewellyn swore allegiance. That was 
 how the quarrel began. It ended, as most quarrels 
 
io8 
 
 did in those days, in bitter bloodshed. Llewellyn 
 was killed, and his people subdued. His nobles 
 came before Edward, promising to be faithful to him 
 
 if he would give 
 them as governor 
 a prince born in 
 their own land. 
 Edward promised, 
 and straightway 
 brought into the 
 room his little 
 baby son, who had 
 been born there 
 in Wales in the 
 Castle of Carnar- 
 von a short time 
 before. Later 
 Edward's oldest 
 son died, and this, 
 the first prince of 
 Wales, became 
 the heir apparent 
 to the throne. Ever since then the Crown Prince 
 of England has borne the title of Prince of Wales. 
 
 Now that the Welshmen had submitted to him, 
 Edward turned his attention to the North. The 
 king of Scotland, who had married Edward's sister, 
 
 The First Prince of Wales. 
 
io9 
 
 was dead. He had no children, so the throne fell 
 to a little eight-year-old princess of Norway. King 
 Edward proposed that the little Maid of Norway 
 should become engaged to his eldest son, but as she 
 was on her way to England she fell ill and died. 
 Immediately thirteen different Scotsmen came for- 
 ward claiming the Scottish throne. The task of 
 deciding which one of these should be king of Scot- 
 land was left to Edward. The English king de- 
 cided upon John Baliol, but on the condition that he 
 should receive his crown by the English king's 
 favor. Then Edward caused the great seal of Scot- 
 land to be broken in four 
 pieces, and carried to the 
 English treasury. He now 
 considered that his kingdom 
 stretched over England, 
 Scotland, and Wales. 
 
 To instill it into Baliol's 
 heart that he was England's 
 vassal, although king of 
 Scotland, Edward repeat- 
 edly summoned him to ap- 
 pear before him in London. 
 At length the Scottish people took this to be an 
 insult. Baliol refused to come. With thirty thou- 
 sand foot soldiers and four thousand horse, Edward 
 
 Coronation Chair. 
 
marched into Scotland. The English 
 
 king was 
 
 victorious. When he went back to London he bore 
 with him the Scottish throne and scepter, and the 
 
 old stone corona- 
 tion chair. For 
 ages the Scottish 
 kings had been 
 crowned upon 
 this stone, which 
 was now placed 
 in Westminster 
 Abbey in London. 
 Perhaps it was 
 this very act that 
 kept alive in the 
 Scots the burn- 
 ing desire to be 
 free from Eng- 
 land's overrule. 
 They found a 
 
 Sir William Wallace. , , , , 
 
 noble and daring 
 leader in Sir William Wallace, and the whole country 
 was soon in arms. Edward was an old man, but he 
 had resolved not to lose Scotland. He went to war 
 borne on a litter. Just within sight of Scotland he 
 died, at Burg-on-Sands. But even in dying his 
 spirit was unquenchable. " Tell my son," he said, 
 

 Ill 
 
 " to bear my bones ahead of the army into Scot- 
 land." 
 
 His dying request was not granted. His body 
 was carried back to Westminster Abbey where 
 these words are engraved upon his plain gray 
 marble monument: — 
 
 " This is Edward the First, the hammer of the 
 Scots — keep troth. " 
 
 3i*<C 
 
 THE BLACK PRINCE 
 
 For a hundred years England was at war. The 
 war with Scotland led to a war with France, and 
 two of the greatest battles in history were fought 
 before England and France signed a treaty of 
 peace. 
 
 King Edward III was England's monarch, who 
 crossed the Channel and met the French at Crecy. 
 With him he took his son, Edward, who was called 
 the Black Prince because of the color of his armor. 
 
 The morning of the battle the king and the prince 
 heard mass with the army, and then the command 
 was given for all to arm and prepare for battle. 
 Edward, mounted on a small palfrey, with a white 
 wand in his hand, rode down the long ranks of his 
 soldiers, encouraging the fearful, and bidding them 
 
112 
 
 all to guard his honor and defend his right. Thus 
 they waited for the French, with fresh courage in 
 every English heart. 
 
 As soon as the French forces 
 
 king 
 English 
 
 The Black Prince at Crecy. 
 
 A terrible rain was falling, 
 
 came up, and 
 the French 
 saw the 
 lined 
 up on his 
 ground, his 
 blood began to 
 boil. 
 
 " Order the 
 Genoese cross- 
 bowmen for- 
 ward, and be- 
 gin the battle 
 in the name of 
 God and St. 
 Denis!" he 
 cried to his 
 marshals, 
 and the sun was 
 
 eclipsed. Thunder and lightning broke through 
 the storm. Just before the rain a flock of huge 
 crows hovered over the battalions, cawing and 
 shrieking. To the Frenchmen, weary from their 
 long march, the storm seemed a prophecy of doom. 
 
H3 
 
 But the king had given the command, and they 
 must advance. The storm broke, but the sun came 
 out with dazzling brightness, shining in the French- 
 men's eyes. With a shout, the Genoese went 
 forward. The English remained motionless. A 
 second shout came from the French, yet the Eng- 
 lish never stirred. With the third shout, they 
 began to shoot. Then the English battalion ad- 
 vanced one step, drew their bows, and let fly their 
 arrows. So thick and fast they fell that it seemed 
 to the Genoese as if it snowed. They turned and 
 retreated. But other French forces came up 
 rapidly behind them, and the battle raged fiercely. 
 The Black Prince was in the very midst of the 
 fray, and his men were falling on either side of him. 
 King Edward was watching the battle on the hill 
 near a windmill. Suddenly he saw a knight 
 riding toward him at top speed. " Sir," he cried, 
 saluting the king, " the Earl of Warwick and 
 others who are about your son are vigorously attacked 
 by the French, and they entreat that you should 
 come to their assistance with your battalion, for if 
 their numbers should increase they fear that he 
 will have too much to do." 
 
 The king did not move from his post. " Is my son 
 dead, unhorsed, or so badly wounded that he cannot 
 support himself ? " he asked. 
 
 LIT. STO. OF ENG. — 8 
 
ii4 
 
 " Nothing of the sort, thank God," replied the 
 knight ; " but he is in so hot an engagement that he 
 has great need of your help." 
 
 Still the king did not move. " Go back to those 
 who sent you," he said quietly, " and tell them not 
 to return again for me this day, or expect that I 
 shall come. Let what will happen as long as my 
 son has his life. And say that I command them to 
 let the boy win his spurs ; for I am determined, if it 
 please God, that all the glory and honor of this day 
 shall be given to him and to those to whose care I 
 have entrusted him." 
 
 The knight rode back to the lords with the king's 
 answer, which gave them such courage that they 
 repented of having sent such a message. 
 
 So the great roar and tumult of the battle w T ent on 
 all day, until the French king had to flee ; and night 
 brought victory to the English. Then they lighted 
 their torches and built great fires that blazed up 
 into the skies. And King Edward then came down 
 from his post, and advanced with his whole battalion 
 to meet the Prince of Wales. 
 
 " Sweet son," he said as he embraced and kissed 
 the Black Prince, " God give you good persever- 
 ance. You are my son, for most loyally have you 
 acquitted yourself this day. You are worthy to be 
 a sovereign." 
 
H5 
 
 The prince bowed very low, and humbled himself, 
 saying that all the honor belonged to his father. 
 And the English feasted all night, and gave thanks 
 to God for their great victory. 
 
 The war lingered on through the years. Ten 
 years after the battle of Crecy, the Black Prince 
 won another great victory for his people. At 
 Poitiers he met the king of France with his four 
 sons, and all the flower of the French nobility. 
 When the Prince of Wales saw the enemy drawn 
 up before him, he addressed his own men with 
 these words : " Now, my gallant fellows, what 
 though we be a small body when compared to 
 the army of our enemies? Do not let us be cast 
 down on that account, for victory does not always 
 follow numbers, but where Almighty God pleases 
 to bestow it. If, through good fortune, the day 
 shall be ours, we will gain the greatest glory in 
 this world ; if the contrary should happen, and we 
 be slain, I have a father and beloved brethren alive 
 who will be sure to avenge our deaths. I therefore 
 entreat you to combat manfully ; for if it shall please 
 God and St. George, this day you shall see me a 
 good knight." 
 
 And with a cry, " Banners advance in the name 
 of God and St. George," the English went forward 
 into battle. 
 
\6 
 
 The French leader, King John, was no less brave 
 of heart than the Prince of Wales, but the English 
 
 put the French to 
 confusion. In the 
 midst of his shat- 
 tered ranks the 
 French king stood 
 his ground, fight- 
 ing valiantly with 
 his battle ax, 
 and beside him 
 stood his fair- 
 haired son Philip, 
 just sixteen years 
 old. But finally 
 an English knight 
 rode up, and de- 
 manded King John 
 
 Surrender of King John. 
 
 to surrender. 
 
 " I will surrender to the Prince of Wales," said 
 the French king, for he saw that he was hard pressed. 
 
 "Surrender to me," replied the knight, "and I 
 will lead you to the Prince of Wales." 
 
 So King John and his son Philip were taken 
 prisoners, and the battle of Poitiers came to end. 
 
 That night the Prince of Wales gave a great 
 feast to King John and all the royal prisoners. 
 
The table was spread in the prince's tent, and the 
 prince himself served at the table. At the end 
 he pledged a toast to the king and said : — 
 
 " Dear sir, do not make a poor meal because 
 the Almighty God has not gratified your wishes 
 in the event of this day; for be assured that my 
 lord and father will show every honor and friend- 
 ship in his power, and will arrange your ransom 
 so reasonably that you will always remain friends. 
 
 Tomb of the Black Prince. 
 
 In my opinion, you have cause to be glad that the 
 success of this battle did not turn out as you de- 
 sired; for you have this day acquired such high 
 
IIcS 
 
 renown for prowess that you have surpassed all 
 the best knights on your side." 
 
 At these words murmurs of praise went up on 
 all sides, and the French said that the prince had 
 spoken nobly and truly, and that he would be one 
 of the most gallant princes in Christendom if God 
 should give him life to pursue his career of glory. 
 
 But although the Black Prince was a brilliant 
 warrior, he was a heartless man. His health broke 
 down when he was still young, and the pain he 
 had to bear made him cruel and revengeful instead 
 of gentle and courteous as became a knight. Yet 
 when he died all England mourned for him. 
 
 CHAUCER AND THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 
 
 It was many years now since Caedmon had 
 dreamed that he could sing, and had awakened to 
 turn the beautiful old sacred stories into song. 
 There had been other singers after him, minstrels 
 and ballad writers, but the first great English poet 
 was not born until the reign of Edward III. He 
 would seem a queer-looking figure indeed, this first 
 English poet, Geoffrey Chaucer, if we should meet 
 him on the streets to-day in his clerk's dress. 
 A dark-colored hood was pulled lightly over his 
 
ii 9 
 
 head, with a long tail to it, which indoors hung 
 down his back, and out of doors was twisted lightly 
 around his head to keep it from blowing off. His 
 gray tunic, which was loose with big baggy sleeves, 
 
 Chaucer. 
 
 hung to his knees. His stockings were bright 
 scarlet, and his boots black. He was rather shy in 
 his manner, and, as he tells us himself, when he 
 went along the London streets, he kept his eyes cast 
 down upon the ground, " as if he would find a 
 hair." 
 
120 
 
 It was a very different London from the noisy 
 crowded city that we know to-day, else Chaucer 
 could not have passed along the highways with 
 drooping eyes. He called it a "dear and sweet 
 city," and tells us how he loved to arise early and go 
 out to see the daisies open and hear the morning 
 songs of the birds. 
 
 For many years Chaucer worked in the Custom 
 House. He must have found it very dull work, 
 bending over the great custom books all day long. 
 But when night came, although his eyes were 
 almost dazed and his back was aching as if it would 
 break, still he turned to study and to books, and was 
 "dumb as a stone" to all about him. He loved to 
 read other people's stories long before he thought of 
 writing them himself. 
 
 One of Chaucer's best friends was John of Gaunt, 
 a younger brother of the Black Prince. This friend- 
 ship lasted throughout life, and as long as John of 
 Gaunt was in power, Chaucer was well provided for. 
 He was a prominent figure at the Court of Edward 
 III, and in later years was sent abroad by the king 
 on many important embassies. He married, too, 
 one of the court ladies, Philippa, a maid of honor to 
 the queen. During these years Chaucer had plenty 
 of money, and lived a happy, prosperous life. Later, 
 when the king died and John of Gaunt fell into dis- 
 
121 
 
 favor, Chaucer, too, was disgraced because he still 
 remained true to his friend. He lost his position in 
 the Custom House, and became very poor. Still his 
 heart did not grow bitter, although he was treated 
 very unjustly. It was during these hard years that 
 he wrote his most famous poems, the " Canterbury 
 Tales," which are full of pictures of a beautiful world, 
 and of love and merriment. 
 
 He begins these poems with a description of a 
 lovely spring day, when April showers had pierced 
 the heart of March and the little birds were making 
 melody. He was resting at the Tabard Inn, ready 
 to go on the next day on a pilgrimage to Canter- 
 bury, the shrine of Thomas a Becket. At night- 
 fall, the inn grew more and more full of guests, until 
 there was great company in the hall, and the stables 
 were full of horses. And Chaucer tells us how 
 shortly after sunset he made friends with all the 
 people and learned that they had met by chance and 
 were all starting on the morrow on a pilgrimage like 
 his own. They therefore agreed to all rise early and 
 start together. Then the host at the inn, when he 
 had given his guests a capital supper and had 
 received the just reckoning from each one, stood up 
 and commanded silence. " Well, my masters," said 
 he, " I say that each of you shall tell the rest four 
 stories — two on the way to Canterbury, and two on 
 
122 
 
 the way home. For you know that it is small fun 
 riding alone dumb as a stone. And whichever in 
 the party tells the best story shall have a supper at 
 this inn at the cost of the rest when you come back. 
 To assure you better, I will myself gladly join your 
 party — and be at once guide and judge." 
 
 So it was agreed, and the company started off the 
 next morning in fine spirits. So vividly has 
 Chaucer portrayed these Canterbury pilgrims that 
 we could scarcely see them better if he had painted 
 a picture of each one. There was a knight, a very 
 perfect noble knight, who loved all chivalry, honor, 
 truth, and courtesy. With him was his son, as squire, 
 with locks all curled and fresh as the month of May. 
 His heart was light, and he whistled and sang all 
 day long as he rode. He had no attendant save one 
 
123 
 
 yeoman clad in coat and hood of green. There was 
 also a nun, with eyes gray as glass and a little red 
 mouth, who carried in her arms some little doers 
 which she often feci with foasted meat, milk, and the 
 finest bread. Then there was a jolly monk, whose 
 horse's bridle jingled like a chapel bell as he rode 
 along, and a friar, who carried with him a number of 
 pretty pins and knives which he gave away as pres- 
 ents to all the friends he made. A merchant with 
 a forked beard was in the company, who sat high on 
 his horse and wore a Flemish beaver hat, and also 
 an Oxford student in threadbare coat, riding a horse 
 as lean as a rake, because he spent all his money on 
 books and learning. Then there was a franklin, 
 with beard as white as daisies ; a haberdasher, a 
 carpenter, a weaver, a dyer, a cook, a sailor, a doctor, 
 
a good wife from Bath, a plowman, and a pardoner 
 whose long yellow hair hung in shreds about his 
 shoulders, and many others. It was a motley but 
 gay company. 
 
 At daybreak they all rode out together from the 
 court of the inn into the glad spring day. They 
 halted at the Watering of St. Thomas, and there 
 drew lots to see who should tell the first tale. The 
 lot fell to the knight, which delighted every one; 
 and as the party set out again, he began his tale. 
 
 Chaucer did not invent new stories for all of his 
 Canterbury pilgrims, but he filled the old tales with 
 so much life that they are as fresh and full of wit 
 and humor, love and pathos, to us to-day, as they 
 were to England five hundred years ago when the 
 first great English poet first wrote them. 
 
 *«ic 
 
 MADCAP HARRY 
 
 The desire that burned in the heart of Edward 
 III was kindled afresh in Henry V, who reigned 
 about forty years later. He wanted his kingdom 
 to stretch across the sea and cover France. The 
 wars with France had gone on so long now, that 
 every English boy seemed to be born with a hatred 
 for the French boys across the Channel. It was 
 
125 
 
 only necessary for an English prince to shout, 
 " Forward in the name of St. George ! " to arouse 
 the war spirit in their blood. The Black Prince 
 had worn himself out in war, but now another 
 prince was wearing the English crown, who was 
 destined to be as great a hero in English eyes 
 as the Black Prince. This prince was Henry of 
 Monmouth, whom history has nicknamed " Mad- 
 cap Harry." 
 
 There was no great artist in those days to paint 
 portraits of famous men and women, so it was cus- 
 tomary for writers of history to give long descrip- 
 tions of the personal appearance of the kings and 
 queens. The biographer of Henry V tells us that 
 this king "had an oval, handsome face with a broad, 
 open forehead and straight nose, ruddy cheeks and 
 lips, a deeply indented chin and small well formed 
 ears ; his hair was brown and thick ; and his bright 
 hazel eyes, gentle as a dove's when at rest, could 
 gleam like a lion's when aroused to wrath. He re- 
 joiced in all kinds of sports and exercise, had no 
 equal in jumping, and was so swift of foot that with 
 one or two chosen companions he would start the 
 quickest buck from the woodlands and run it down 
 in the open." 
 
 And to this picture of Henry we must add that he 
 was hot-headed, kind of heart, bold in thought and 
 
126 
 
 deed, loving his people and beloved by them. As 
 a prince he had been wild and fearless, and in this 
 same spirit he led his army across the sea to win 
 the French crown. The great and terrible battle 
 of this war was fought in the autumn of 141 5. 
 The two armies came together near the village of 
 Maisoncelle at night. In Henry's ranks his dis- 
 cipline was so strict that all through the night there 
 was scarcely a whisper heard in the camp. The 
 French even thought that the English had retreated 
 in the rain and darkness. In the meantime in their 
 camp there was turmoil and confusion, the shouting 
 of orders, the din of tramping men and horses, and 
 the shouting of the nobles who were feasting and 
 drinking, sure of to-mdrrow's victory. 
 
 At daybreak Henry was up and clad in his 
 armor. He put on his head his helmet, blazing 
 with its coronet of rubies, sapphires, and pearls ; 
 mounted a small gray horse, and gave the orders 
 for the day. The army was drawn up four lines 
 deep, with the archers in front. Few of Henry's 
 archers wore any armor. They were clad instead 
 in their heavy doublets, with their hose tucked up 
 and their feet bare that they might stand the more 
 firmly. When all was in readiness, Henry asked 
 the hour. 
 
 " It is the first watch," they told him. 
 
127 
 
 " Good," replied the king. " For at this hour all 
 England prayeth for us ; let us therefore be of good 
 cheer." 
 
 " And," writes Henry's chaplain, " so long as the 
 battle lasted, I who write these words, sat upon my 
 horse amid the baggage in the rear, and with all 
 the other priests humbled my soul before God, say- 
 ing in my heart : Be mindful of- us, O Lord ! for 
 
 Before the Battle of Agincourt, 
 
 our enemies are gathered together and boast them- 
 selves in their strength. Break down their power, 
 and scatter them, that they may know there is none 
 other that fighteth for us but Thou, O God." 
 
About a mile away stood the French, three times 
 as strong. But Henry's courage never faltered. He 
 rode down the lines, bidding his men be of good cheer, 
 for they would have a fair day and a gracious victory. 
 And the men caught his spirit, and answered, " Sire ! 
 we pray God grant you a good life and victory over 
 our enemies ! " 
 
 The order to advance was given, and with a ringing 
 cheer the English went forward. When they were 
 within bowshot of the French, Henry commanded 
 them to halt. The archers planted their stakes be- 
 fore them in the ground, and with a cry, " Hurrah ! 
 Hurrah ! St. George and Merry England ! " the battle 
 began. In less than three hours the English had 
 won the day. Then Henry called to him a French 
 herald, and asked, " Tell me the name of yonder 
 fortress which overlooks the field." 
 
 " Agincourt," the herald replied. 
 
 " Then," said Henry, " this battle shall now and 
 forever be called the Battle of Agincourt." 
 
 News was sent that very night to England, and 
 early the next morning the church bells throughout 
 the country proclaimed the great victory. But there 
 were many sad hearts in England, and many more in 
 France, because of the brave soldiers who lay among 
 the heaps of dead the day after that terrible battle. 
 
 A month later Henry set sail for home. As the 
 
129 
 
 fleet came into Dover, the excited townspeople rushed 
 down even into the sea to carry their king to the 
 shore upon their 
 shoulders. Never 
 was there a greater 
 triumphant march 
 through England 
 than Henry's 
 march from Dover 
 to Westminster. 
 At Cornhill tower 
 there was stretched 
 a great canopy 
 adorned with the 
 banners of St. 
 George, and under- 
 neath stood a num- 
 ber of men dressed 
 as prophets in gold 
 and purple robes. 
 As the king came by, the prophets let loose a flock 
 of little tame birds, which fluttered about the king 
 and even perched on his shoulders. 
 
 At Chepe Cross great arches spanned the streets, 
 and through these archways came maidens dancing 
 and striking timbrels, just as the women in the olden 
 days had welcomed King David back to Jerusalem. 
 
 LIT. STO. OF ENG. — o 
 
 Henry and the French Herald. 
 
130 
 
 On either side stood white-robed boys to represent 
 angels, who scattered wreaths of laurel as the king 
 rode by. 
 
 Dressed in his purple gown and surrounded by 
 only a few personal friends, King Henry rode with a 
 sober face through the festive town. He would not let 
 any songs be sung in his praise, nor would he allow his 
 11 bruised helmet and his bended sword " to be borne 
 •before him as the nobles wished. 
 
 " The glory and honor is due alone to God/' he said, 
 as he dismounted and went into St. Paul's, where 
 a Te Deum was sung for his victory. 
 
 Still the troubles with France continued for five 
 years, until a treaty of peace was signed, and it was 
 agreed that Henry should marry the French king's 
 daughter, Catherine, and when the French king died, 
 he should be king of France. 
 
 There was great rejoicing when Henry brought his 
 French queen home, for it looked now as if Henry's 
 ambition would be accomplished. But two years 
 later he died, when he was only thirty-four. He was 
 buried in Westminster Abbey, and for over a hun- 
 dred years tapers were kept burning about his 
 tomb. 
 
i3i 
 
 WAT TYLER AND THE PEASANT REVOLT 
 
 The long, long wars with France were draining 
 England of many of her best men. Suddenly an- 
 other enemy came upon the land. It was an enemy 
 even more terrible than war. It swept across the 
 land through city and village alike. Everywhere, 
 where people were living in dark houses, in dirty 
 streets, in unhealthy homes, this new enemy entered. 
 
 The Black Death was the name given to this 
 plague. The first time it visited England over half 
 the people died of it. In some villages scarcely 
 enough men were left living to bury the dead. On 
 many farms there were not left enough men to 
 reap the autumn harvest. The few remaining 
 laborers, or villains, as they were called, saw that this 
 was a good time to demand higher wages. This 
 angered some of the nobles so greatly that they let 
 their crops rot in the ground rather than pay the 
 wages that the men asked. Finally they appealed 
 to Parliament to help them. 
 
 The result was that Parliament passed laws re- 
 quiring the laborers to work at the old rate of wages 
 and forbidding them to leave the land upon which 
 they were born. Any villain who was found running 
 away was to be branded with a red-hot iron on his 
 forehead. A little later a poll tax was levied on 
 
132 
 
 every person in the land over fifteen years of age. 
 This tax was to help pay for the war with France. 
 It was only fourteen pence, but the villains' wages 
 were so low that it often took them many days to 
 save money enough to pay it. 
 
 The faces of the laborers grew dark and sullen. 
 As they walked home together across the fields at 
 night, they talked in low tones of the unjust nobles 
 and the unjust king. They saw the rich landlords 
 in their castles dressed in beautiful, soft silks and 
 satins. They themselves wore coarse woolen tunics 
 belted in at the waist with rope. They came into 
 their homes, which were low, dirty, and filled with bad 
 air. Silently they ate their evening meal of bacon, 
 cabbage, and home-brewed beer. There was no light 
 in the room save from the burning rushes on the 
 hearth. Here the family gathered. They had no 
 books to read. They could only sit there, thinking 
 of their aching backs, of the taxes to be paid, and 
 their few scant pennies saved up for the winter's 
 food. Finally, tired out, they threw themselves on 
 their straw pallets to sleep heavily until daybreak. 
 
 One day Wat Tyler, one of these laborers, was 
 mending a roof, when he heard the loud outcry of 
 his daughter at home near by. Running down the 
 ladder, he found that the tax collector was at his 
 house, and had insulted the girl. Scarcely realizing 
 
133 
 
 how strong his arm was, Wat struck the collector a 
 blow that killed him on the spot. A crowd soon 
 gathered about the house, and these laborers were 
 only too ready to take Wat Tyler's part. Still hot 
 with anger, the roof-mender begged them to go to 
 London with him and demand relief for the many 
 wrongs they were suffering. 
 
 Headed by Tyler, the little band started afoot for 
 London. Long before it reached there it had grown 
 to be one hundred thousand strong. With them, too, 
 marched John Ball, a poor priest who knew how to 
 put into glowing words the feelings that were burn- 
 ing in the laborers' hearts. As they were nearing 
 London he gathered the crowd about him in a church- 
 yard. " Good people," he cried, " why do the great 
 folk hold us in slavery if we are all children of the 
 same father and mother, Adam and Eve ? They 
 dress in velvets, but we must go in rags. They have 
 wine and spices and fair white bread upon their tables, 
 while we have oatcake, and straw beds, and water to 
 drink. They have leisure and fine houses ; we have 
 pain and labor, the rain and the wind in the fields. 
 When Adam delved and Eve span, who was then 
 the gentleman ? " 
 
 With renewed courage the army of villains pressed 
 on to London, and for three weeks held possession 
 of the city. They ransacked the homes of the 
 
134 
 
 wealthy, and destroyed all the silver and gold that 
 they could find. Finally the king agreed to meet 
 them. King Richard was only sixteen, and his heart 
 was fearless. 
 
 " What will you, good people ? " he asked bravely 
 
 Death of Wat Tyler. 
 
 in the face of the mob. " I am your king and lord. 
 What will you ? " 
 
 " We will that you free us forever," the mob 
 shouted like one man; " and that we be never more 
 named or held as serfs." 
 
 " I grant it," the king replied. 
 
 The crowd broke up, and many went home. 
 
135 
 
 Thirty thousand remained to see that the king kept 
 his word. The next morning, when the king was 
 talking with Tyler, some hot words passed between 
 them. Tyler raised his arm, and the Mayor of Lon- 
 don, fearing that he was about to strike the king, 
 drew his sword and slew the laborer. It was a mo- 
 ment of great peril, but the king did not lose his 
 head. Wheeling his horse about, he shouted to the 
 mob, " Follow me, I am your captain and your king." 
 The people trusted him, and soon after this re- 
 turned to their homes. But King Richard's promises 
 were not kept. There was no law in England that 
 gave him power to make such promises. Parliament 
 continued her unjust taxes. But the barons had seen 
 once for all the strength of the villains when once 
 aroused. They were too afraid of another revolt to 
 press their tenants more than necessary. Then, too, 
 there were other forces at work in the land that 
 were to lessen the power that the barons had held 
 ever since the days of William the Conqueror. 
 
 **s< 
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 There is an old legend of a French king whose 
 life was made miserable because of his quarrelsome 
 nobles. These lords and barons were always fight- 
 
136 
 
 ing one another and then coming to the king for 
 him to settle the dispute. Finally in despair the 
 king shut all the nobles of the land up in one room, 
 and locked the doors. An hour later, when he 
 opened the room, he found that all the nobles were 
 either dead or so weak with wounds that they were 
 glad to go meekly home and hang their weapons on 
 their castle walls. 
 
 Much the same thing happened in England when 
 the barons came home after the long wars with 
 France. These barons came back from France 
 with hearts grown hard, cruel, and merciless. Many 
 of them came home rich with plunder. It is said 
 that the Earl of Warwick was so rich that he fed 
 thirty thousand daily at his castles. Six huge oxen 
 were killed every day for the breakfast of his re- 
 tainers. He boasted that no man ever went hungry 
 from his door, and that soldiers could enter his 
 kitchen at any hour and carry off as large pieces of 
 meat as they could pick up on their daggers. 
 
 The barons had not been home two years before 
 they began to fight one another. The story reads 
 that two of them, Warwick and Somerset, were 
 walking together in the temple gardens, each one 
 attended by a large court of followers. A dispute 
 arose as to whether a prince of the House of Lan- 
 caster, or a prince of the House of York, should be 
 
137 
 
 the next king of England. Each house was of 
 royal blood, and could lay claims to the throne. 
 The words between Somerset and Warwick became 
 hotter and hotter. Finally Warwick turned about, 
 plucked a white rose from a bush near by, and, 
 
 In the Temple Gardens. 
 
 sticking it into his buttonhole, bade all true and loyal 
 followers of the House of York do likewise. There- 
 upon Somerset seized a rose of flaming red, and 
 shouted that this should be the emblem of the House 
 of Lancaster. It would have been well if King 
 Henry had been strong enough to imprison all 
 these angry nobles in one great room and let them 
 fight one another, as the legends said the old French 
 
138 
 
 king did. Then the farmers who wished to plow 
 and sow their land, and the traders in the city who 
 wished to work at their honest business, could have 
 gone peacefully about their work. For these good 
 people had no interest in this " War of the Roses " 
 which for thirty years the barons waged in England. 
 But King Henry VI was not a strong man, and he 
 was not a fighter. He had been made king when 
 only a boy of seven, and while he was still a child, 
 had often been called to settle the quarrels between 
 his barons. The strain proved too great for him. 
 Shortly before the War of the Roses broke out, he 
 became insane. There was, therefore, no strong- 
 hand to hold the barons in check. All England 
 lay at their mercy. 
 
 The story of this war is very long and very unin- 
 teresting. One year the White Rose was victorious ; 
 the next year found the Red Rose in power. It is a 
 story of many cruel deeds, that we are glad to forget 
 as soop as we can. Many a baron lost his life. 
 Somerset was slain in battle at the beginning of the 
 war; and Warwick in the battle of Barnet, near 
 the close. He had been called the " Last of the 
 Barons," because he was the last baron who was 
 strong enough to dictate to the king. 
 
 The War of the Roses came to an end on the 
 battlefield of Bosworth. The two leaders in this 
 
139 
 
 battle were Henry Tudor, the head of the Lancas- 
 trians, and Richard III, the last of the three York 
 kings. The night before 
 the battle Richard III was 
 tormented by bad dreams. 
 He believed this to be an 
 evil omen. The next morn- 
 ing his commander-in-chief 
 deserted him. Neverthe- 
 less, Richard, with no sign 
 of fear, mounted his horse 
 and rode bravely into battle. 
 He died fighting. His 
 crown, which he had worn 
 into battle, was found by 
 the Lancastrian soldiers under a holly bush. They 
 brought it to their leader, and there on the field 
 crowned him Henry VII of England. Thus the war 
 closed with a triumph for the House of Lancaster. 
 Soon afterwards Henry married a princess of the 
 House of York, and thus the two parties were at last 
 peacefully united. 
 
140 
 
 WILLIAM CAXTON 
 
 England's first printer 
 
 It is hard to believe that the fifteenth century 
 dawned before the first book was printed in England. 
 The bards had told over and over the old lays of Beo- 
 wulf; Caedmon had sung his verses of the Creation; 
 Chaucer had written his merry " Canterbury Tales," 
 but no book had yet been printed in England. In the 
 great palaces and homes of the wealthy there were 
 books, and very beautiful ones, but they had all been 
 written by hand, — the painstaking task of some 
 monk who had spent years over his work. They 
 were written on heavy parchment, and many of them 
 had pages decorated with colored borders of birds 
 and flowers. But these books were so costly that 
 few besides kings and princes could have libraries 
 in those days. Probably no little child in England 
 at that time owned a book. 
 
 The man who printed the first book in England 
 was William Caxton. He was born in the woody 
 county of Kent early in the fifteenth century. In 
 one of his books he wrote, " I was born and learned 
 my English in Kent, where I doubt not is spoken as 
 broad and rude English as is in any place in Eng- 
 land." In these days the English language was made 
 up of many different dialects. The people in the 
 
141 
 
 South spoke so differently from the people in the 
 North that they could scarcely understand each other. 
 Later, when printed books could be bought by rich 
 and poor, the people in the North and the South, the 
 East and the West, began gradually to understand and 
 speak the same tongue. Then the English language 
 came to be the language that we speak to-day. 
 
 In Kent, Caxton's early home, as he writes, the 
 people spoke a rude tongue. There were many Flem- 
 ish settlers there, and their language became mixed 
 with the Kentish English. Caxton himself tells 
 about a party of merchants who were delayed on the 
 Kentish coast, and came to a little cottage to buy 
 some eggs. The good wife, who opened the door, 
 shook her head, and replied that she knew no French. 
 Then the merchant was angry, for he spoke no French 
 either but was astanch-hearted Englishman. " Eggs," 
 " Eggs," he kept repeating, but she could not under- 
 stand. Then at length, one of his company said 
 " Eyren," which is the word for " eggs " in the old 
 Kentish dialect, and the good wife hastened to fetch 
 him a basket full. 
 
 When Caxton was quite a young man he was sent 
 on business to Bruges, where he lived for thirty-five 
 years. This now sleepy old town was then a flour- 
 ishing city. There were many young men there 
 who were interested in the making of books, and we 
 
142 
 
 soon find Caxton at work evenings translating a 
 French book. In his prologue to this book, Caxton 
 writes in his quaint English, " When I remember 
 that every man is bound by the commandment and 
 counsel of the wise men to avoid sloth and idle- 
 ness, . . . then I, having no great charge of occupa- 
 tion, followed the said counsel, took a French book 
 and read therein many strange and marvellous stories 
 wherein I had great pleasure and delight. . . . And 
 for so much this book was new and lately made and 
 drawn into French, and never had been seen in our 
 English tongue, I thought in myself it would be a good 
 business to translate it into our English to the end that 
 it might be had as well in England as in other lands, 
 and also for to pass away my time, and thus concluded 
 in myself to begin this work." 
 
 Caxton, however, grew weary of his task before he 
 had half finished the translation. He had sfiven it 
 up, when the Duchess of Burgundy saw his work and 
 commanded him to finish it. When it was once 
 completed, other nobles saw it, and wanted Caxton 
 to make copies for them. Caxton found himself over- 
 burdened with the tedious task of copying his trans- 
 lation by hand. He began to look into this new art of 
 printing which had been invented in Germany. But 
 he tells us the story in his own words in a prologue 
 to the first printed copy of the " History of Troy." 
 
143 
 
 "And for as much as in the writing of the same 
 my pen is worn, my hands weary and not steadfast, 
 my eyes dim with over much looking on the white 
 paper, and my courage not so prone and ready to 
 
 Caxton and the First Printing Press in England. 
 
 labor as it hath been, and that age creepeth on me 
 daily and feebleth all the body, and also because I 
 have promised to diverse gentlemen and to my friends 
 to address them as hastily as I might this said 
 
144 
 
 book, therefore I have practiced and learned at my 
 great expense to ordain this said book in print after 
 the manner and form as ye may here see and is not 
 written with pen and ink as other books be." 
 
 This was the first book ever printed in the Eng- 
 lish language. The next year Caxton translated and 
 printed another book, " The Game and Play of Chess." 
 Then he returned to England, bringing his printing 
 press with him and settling in Westminster, London. 
 Just where he lived and how long we do not know ; 
 but his life must have been a busy one, for we know 
 of twenty-one translations that he made, and about 
 seventy books that he printed. 
 
 In order that it might be known what books were 
 printed by him, Caxton made a device or trade mark 
 which he stamped in all his books. It is hard to 
 make out just what Caxton meant by his device. 
 We can easily see the "W" and the"C" which 
 stand for his name, and it is supposed that the two 
 figures between these letters are a fantastic "74." 
 That is, his device meant, "William Caxton printed 
 the first English book in 1474." 
 
 Many fragments of Caxton's books can be seen 
 to-day in the British Museum and elsewhere, w r here 
 they are guarded as the greatest treasures. And in 
 1877, the four hundredth anniversary of the printing 
 of the first English book in England, a great festival 
 
H5 
 
 was held in St. Paul's Cathedral to honor William 
 Caxton, England's first printer. 
 
 BLUFF KING HAL 
 
 Henry VII, who was crowned on the battlefield 
 of Bos worth, was the first of the Tudors, who now 
 for over one hundred years sat on the throne of 
 England. The most famous of the Tudor kings 
 was Henry VIII; the most famous of the queens 
 was Elizabeth. Henry VIII was crowned when 
 he was eighteen years of age. 
 
 His father, Henry VII, had left the royal treasury 
 full, and Henry's greatest delight was in spending 
 this money to surround himself with every pomp 
 and glory of which he could dream. It was said 
 that he was very handsome, but he must have had a 
 hard and cruel look in his eyes, for no man ever 
 thought more of his own pleasure and less of that 
 of others than did Henry VIII. At first his people 
 did not realize this. They were proud because he 
 could ride a horse well, proud that he could speak 
 good French, Latin, and Spanish, and proud of his 
 red beard, which they said shone like gold, and was 
 far handsomer than the beard of the king of France. 
 
 The English people would have discovered much 
 
 LIT. STO. OF ENG. 
 
146 
 
 Henry VIII and Wolsey. 
 
 sooner than they did how little real interest Henry 
 VIII had in their welfare if it had not been for 
 Cardinal Wolsey. Wolsey was the son of a well- 
 
147 
 
 to-do Ipswich butcher, but as he was very clever, he 
 worked his way up from being tutor in a noble 
 family to the position of Archbishop of York. 
 Later the Pope made him cardinal, and Henry VIII 
 appointed him chancellor of the realm. He was a 
 gay companion for the king, fond of the show and 
 glitter that Henry VIII loved. He was a great 
 statesman as well, and Henry, knowing this, gave 
 him almost unlimited power in ruling England. 
 These were days when Europe was the seat of con- 
 tinual warfare, and Spain, France, and Germany 
 were all seeking England's aid. The king easily 
 saw that no other man was so diplomatic in arrang- 
 ing foreign affairs as Wolsey. So he heaped favor 
 upon favor upon him, until finally Wolsey was liv- 
 ing in greater state than the king himself. His 
 palaces were as splendid as Henry's. He had a 
 retinue of eight hundred. He held his court 
 dressed from head to foot in flaming scarlet, with 
 golden shoes set with precious gems. When he 
 went out in state his followers rode on thorough- 
 bred horses, but the cardinal, pretending to be very 
 humble, ambled along in the midst of them on a 
 mule with red velvet saddle and bridle and stirrups 
 of gold. 
 
 The early part of Henry the Eighth's reign was 
 full of trouble with France. Finally, to bring about 
 
148 
 
 peace, the stately cardinal arranged that the two 
 sovereigns, Henry VIII and Francis I, should have 
 a personal meeting in France on English ground. 
 The place selected for the meeting was Guisney, a 
 
 fo : 
 
 . 
 
 ^0~A 
 
 
 ifliwj 
 
 *^f^& V: ' : k 
 
 ' '.:.'. : f'' i " : "" ; ' ' • / 
 
 
 Iwl 
 
 ^f ; 
 
 5r ^ M'^^u^^ 
 
 t 
 
 \WBm- 
 
 Jf 4r, 
 
 \ - -; 
 
 1 ■ 
 
 
 ▼ 
 
 
 «iiii- ; 
 
 
 1 
 
 The Field of the Cloth of Gold. 
 
 barren plain which had been changed into a fairy- 
 land of beauty in honor of the great event which 
 was to take place there. Three hundred white 
 tents were stretched across the vast field, and in 
 their midst arose a gorgeous, gilded palace. Its 
 walls were hung with soft-colored tapestries, its 
 ceilings were embossed with roses, and in the court- 
 yards great fountains spouted red with sparkling 
 
i 4 9 
 
 wine. So lavishly was money spent that the spot 
 has become known in history as The Field of the 
 Cloth of Gold. Here Francis I and Henry VIII 
 came with their vast retinues. The whole affair 
 was planned with great state. At exactly the same 
 time Henry and Francis issued forth from their 
 camps on opposite hillslopes. In front of the Eng- 
 lish retinue rode the Marquis of Dorset, bearing 
 aloft the sword of state before the king. Then fol- 
 lowed Henry, robed in silver damask thickly ribbed 
 with gold. He was mounted on a splendid charger, 
 whose trappings, no less brilliant, shone and glis- 
 tened in the sun. Behind followed the cardinal, 
 the dukes and lords and nobles, gorgeously arrayed. 
 As a shot proclaimed that Henry VIII was about 
 to advance, a responding shot heralded the ap- 
 proach of Francis from the opposite hill. 
 
 The French king wore a mantle of cloth of gold 
 covered with jewels. Diamonds, red-hearted rubies, 
 rich green emeralds, and pearls studded the front 
 and sleeves. On his head was a velvet bonnet 
 adorned with floating plumes and precious stones. 
 Far in advance of him rode the provost marshal 
 with his archers. Then came the marshals and the 
 princes of the blood, followed by the Swiss guard 
 on foot in new liveries, with their drums, flutes, 
 trumpets, and clarions. Directly in front of the 
 
i5o 
 
 king was the grand constable, carrying a naked 
 sword, and the grand ecuyer with the sword of 
 France. 
 
 The two companies advanced slowly and in state 
 toward the valley. Suddenly there was a moment's 
 pause on each side. A stir ran through both ranks. 
 Then from out the maze of floating plumes and 
 dazzling colors, while the trumpets blared and the 
 drums beat, rode forth from the English and from 
 the French company each a single horseman. They 
 rode slowly down from the opposing hills, but the 
 moment they reached the valley they put spurs to 
 their chargers. The horses set out on a gallop 
 across the field. They met beneath a richly hung 
 pavilion, where the two horsemen embraced and 
 dismounted. It was the King of England and 
 the King of France. 
 
 For three days the two monarchs lingered on the 
 Field of the Cloth of Gold, holding tournaments 
 and feasts and pledging everlasting friendship. 
 But no sooner had Henry VI H returned home 
 than he was making the same promises with the 
 Emperor of Germany, Francis's bitterest enemy ; 
 and both sovereigns soon learned how little they 
 could trust him. 
 
 There was another man, too, who was going to 
 suffer from the faithlessness of the king. This was 
 
i5i 
 
 the great cardinal. The king was growing tired 
 of his wife, Catherine, who was quiet and serious. 
 He had fallen in love with a gay and pretty court 
 lady, Anne Boleyn, and he wished to make her his 
 queen. To do this it was necessary to divorce 
 Catherine. The king held council with Wolsey, 
 and the cardinal advised him to appeal to the 
 Pope. The Pope refused his request. Henry 
 VIII spent his anger now in disgracing Wolsey. 
 He forgot in a single moment of temper the years 
 of work that Wolsey had given for the upbuilding 
 of England's power. He took from him the great 
 seal, and banished him to his home at Esher. The 
 great statesman was heartbroken. On his way to 
 Esher the king sent him a present of a ring, and 
 for an instant he hoped to win back the royal favor. 
 He looked about him for a gift suitable to return to 
 the king. At first he saw nothing ; then his eye fell 
 upon a jester among his servants whose merry wit, 
 Wolsey said, was worth a thousand pounds. He 
 ordered the jester to be sent to the king, but the 
 " poor fool took on so, and fired up in such a rage 
 when he saw that he needs must depart from my 
 lord," that Wolsey had to send six sturdy yeomen 
 to bring him to the royal palace. 
 
 Besides his offices Wolsey lost all his friends. 
 The jealous nobles were only too glad to see him 
 
152 
 
 banished. They persuaded Henry to disgrace him 
 still more. Finally he was arrested for high trea- 
 son, and summoned to England. The old man set 
 out, broken in spirit and body. Only his servants 
 and the poor country people remained loyal to him. 
 They stood in crowds at the gate, weeping as he 
 passed through, and crying, " God save your Grace !" 
 
 
 II^^^Eh ' ' <4$si§sk~ 
 
 5& 
 
 
 HK 1 9 
 
 fjm n BWy^H WMFffi fr^al ' 
 
 
 r -i fflHff^Wi 
 
 
 '"^^MttfttK^^flfl 
 
 Wolsey at Leicester Abbey. 
 
 Wolsey never reached London. At Leicester Abbey 
 he was obliged to stop, and he was so weak that they 
 had to lift him from his mule. 
 
 " I am come hither to lay my bones among you," 
 
153 
 
 he said, and in two days his words had become true. 
 As he lay there dying, he turned to the monks and 
 said, " If I had served God as diligently as I have 
 done the king, he would not have given me over in 
 my gray hairs." 
 
 QUEEN ELIZABETH 
 
 On the ioth of September, 1533, the bell on the 
 Friars' Church proclaimed that some great event was 
 to take place within its walls. The gray front of the 
 church was hung with colored banners and tapestries, 
 and green rushes were strewn from the church doors 
 to the palace of the king. Within waited the mayor 
 in his magnificent gown of crimson, and all the alder- 
 men dressed in scarlet with chains of gold about their 
 necks. Forty of the chief citizens were there too, 
 and the entire council of the city. They were gath- 
 ered about a silver font set in the midst of the church 
 under a gorgeous red canopy hung with golden fringe. 
 When all was ready, a side door opened, and the old 
 Duchess of Norfolk issued forth, bearing in her arms 
 a wee baby, who was all but hidden in a purple 
 mantle lined with ermine, so long that a court lady 
 had to carry the train. No less a person than the 
 Bishop of London stood waiting at the door, and all 
 the great men of the realm followed behind this little 
 
154 
 
 child. Very solemnly was the service read, and the 
 christening performed, and then the king-of-arms 
 stepped forward and cried; "God of his infinite good- 
 ness send prosperous life and long life to the high 
 
 Queen Elizabeth. 
 
 and mighty princess of England, Elizabeth." For 
 this was the christening of the little daughter of 
 Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn. Then the great 
 trumpet blew, and the godfathers and godmothers 
 brought forward their presents of gold and silver 
 cups, and then the wee princess was hurried home 
 
155 
 
 as fast as could be, and put back to sleep again in her 
 royal cradle. 
 
 It was twenty-five years later that the princess 
 Elizabeth became queen of England. On that day 
 every bell in England was rung; great bonfires blazed 
 high into the sky on every street corner ; and tables 
 were brought out on to the street where all might eat 
 and drink and cry, " Long Live Good Queen Bess ! " 
 
 The queen herself was at Hatfield, but she made 
 ready at once to start for London to be crowned. 
 The city, too, made all haste to receive her with the 
 greatest pomp and ceremony. On the 14th of 
 January, 1558, Elizabeth passed from the Tower to 
 Westminster, surrounded by all the barons and 
 noblemen of the realm. "And to all that wished 
 her Grace well she gave hearty thanks, and to such 
 as bade God save her Grace she said again God 
 save them all, and thanked them with all her heart; 
 so that on either side there was nothing but o:lad- 
 ness, nothing but prayer, nothing but comfort." 
 
 As the procession came to Fan Church, the queen 
 saw that a huge scaffolding had been erected over 
 the street, and that a little child in costly gown 
 stood upon it. She bade her chariot stop, and all 
 to be still while the little child bowed low before the 
 queen and recited a long poem in her honor. It 
 ended with this quaint verse : — 
 
1 56 
 
 " Welcome, therefore, O Queen, as much as heart can think ; 
 Welcome again, O Queen, as much as tongue can tell ; 
 Welcome to joyous tongues and hearts that will not shrink ; 
 God thee preserve we pray, and wish thee ever well." 
 
 As the child ended, the people gave a great shout, 
 and the queen thanked the child and the city for 
 their gentle welcoming. 
 
 Then the procession moved on once more, and 
 all along the way there were crowds of people in 
 holiday dress, and at every corner there were won- 
 derful tableaux and pageants arranged for the 
 queen's pleasure, and at last the queen was pre- 
 sented with a purse of gold so heavy that it took 
 both her hands to lift it. Then she stood up in 
 her chariot, and great stillness fell upon the crowd, 
 for they knew that the queen was going to speak. 
 
 " I thank my Lord Mayor," she said, " his brethren, 
 and you all. And whereas your request is that I 
 should continue your good lady and queen, be ye 
 assured that I will be as good unto you as ever 
 queen was to her people. No will in me can lack, 
 neither do I trust shall there lack any power. And 
 persuade yourselves, that for the safety and quiet- 
 ness of you all I will not spare, if need be, my 
 blood. God thank you all." 
 
 The next day the queen was crowned. While 
 she was sitting at dinner in the great hall at West- 
 
157 
 
 minster, a knight, in full armor, riding a beautiful 
 charger, rode into the hall, and casting down his 
 gauntlet at her feet, offered to fight any knight or 
 noble who should deny that she was England's 
 right and lawful queen. And Elizabeth took a cup 
 of solid gold, and, filling it with costly wine, sent it 
 to him as his fee. Thus the feast closed, and the 
 queen went in state to the church. 
 
 Kneeling before the high altar, with a red silken 
 mantle thrown about her, Elizabeth was anointed 
 and crowned queen of England. A sword was 
 hung at her side and the crown set upon her head 
 while the trumpets sounded ; a ring placed on her 
 finger and the scepter in her hand. Then the 
 lords came and knelt before her Grace, and kissed 
 her, and all the bishops did the same. 
 
 And the next day great tournaments were held to 
 honor the coronation. 
 
 Throughout her reign this same splendor was 
 kept up at Elizabeth's court. The noblemen 
 dressed in the most gorgeous, bright-colored satins 
 and velvets, and the queen is said to have left no 
 less than three thousand beautiful gowns in her 
 wardrobe when she died. The queen, too, was very 
 fond of compliments and flattery, and always kept 
 at her court some of the handsomest young lords of 
 the kingdom to pay her homage. Among these 
 
158 
 
 favorites was the Earl of Leicester, whom the queen 
 treated with such marked favor that many believed 
 that she would some day marry him. She even 
 went in great state to his beautiful castle at Kenil- 
 
 ; ■ Jfffl 
 
 
 | Ki | 
 
 
 
 ffir^froiP iSiB ' Ml 
 
 Ruins of Kenilworth Castle. 
 
 worth, where the earl spent a large fortune in 
 entertaining his royal guest. But Elizabeth never 
 married. She was known as the virgin queen, and 
 Sir Walter Raleigh, another young favorite, named 
 the colony which he founded in the New World 
 Virginia in her honor. Raleigh's bold and brave 
 deeds, his witty tongue, and handsome blue eyes 
 won him favor at court, and for years Elizabeth held 
 him as her trusted knight. When, however, he fell 
 in love with one of her court ladies and married 
 
159 
 
i6o 
 
 her, Elizabeth sent him away in disgrace, and even 
 imprisoned him six months in the Tower. 
 
 But Elizabeth's time was not all spent on her own 
 pleasure. One reason why she never married was 
 because she wanted to rule over her kingdom 
 herself. England was poor when she came to the 
 throne, and war with Europe was brewing. Eliza- 
 beth had the prosperity of the land at heart. She 
 gave orders herself that manufactures and commerce 
 should be encouraged. She kept repeating to the 
 nobles, " No war, my lords, no war," and she made 
 them heed her. In the meantime while England 
 was at peace, she built up her navy and drilled her 
 armies so that if war had to come, England would 
 be able to defend herself. A new era had begun 
 in England, which has become famous as the age 
 of Elizabeth. 
 
 THE SPANISH ARMADA 
 
 Besides her own noblemen there were princes of 
 royal blood who came seeking Elizabeth's hand. One 
 of the first was Philip II of Spain, a most ambitious 
 prince. When Elizabeth refused his offer of mar- 
 riage, Philip became at once her rival, and afterwards 
 her open enemy. Whenever the English and Spanish 
 met, were it in trading in the Netherlands, sailing 
 
i6i 
 
 on the High Seas, or founding colonies in the New 
 World, quarreling and often bloodshed followed. 
 
 Among English seamen, no one carried a deeper 
 hatred for Spain in his heart than Sir Francis Drake, 
 who was one of the bravest adventurers of Eliza- 
 beth's reign. He 
 was born on an old 
 ship moored off 
 Chatham Bay, and 
 grew up with a 
 love of the sea. 
 He went to sea 
 first on a small 
 vessel that traded 
 with Holland, and 
 it was while he 
 was in Holland 
 that he saw with his own eyes how cruelly the 
 Spanish king treated his Dutch subjects. After- 
 wards, he himself was treacherously dealt with 
 by the Spaniards. He was driven by storm into 
 the Gulf of Mexico, where the Spanish colonists 
 invited them to land and refit their vessels. Then, 
 suddenly, without any warning, the Spanish attacked 
 them, and they lost half of their ships. Drake in 
 righteous indignation swore that henceforth Spain 
 should receive no mercy from his hand. 
 
 LIT. STO- OF ENG. — 1 1 
 
I 62 
 
 Drake had many adventures. He was one of the 
 first English navigators to sail round the world, and 
 as a reward for his brave spirit was knighted by the 
 queen. But his greatest triumph was when he 
 " singed the King of Spain's beard." 
 
 Philip II had long been gathering and equipping 
 a great fleet, with which he hoped some day to 
 conquer England. This was the dream of his 
 heart. When Drake heard about it, he sailed 
 quietly out of Plymouth harbor, with twenty-eight 
 vessels in his wake. With a boldness that made his 
 officers mad, he sailed his fleet around the Spanish 
 coast, straight for the Bay of Cadiz, where Philips 
 largest ships lay at anchor. The sun was just 
 sinking below the horizon when the English ships 
 entered the harbor, Drake's vessel, the Dragon, at 
 their head. Before the Spanish realized what had 
 happened, some of their finest ships had been sunk, 
 others had been plundered, and Drake was setting 
 sail for home. Philip's fleet would not conquer 
 England that year. Drake had singed his beard. 
 
 But twelve months later a small English vessel 
 came running against the wind into Plymouth har- 
 bor, bringing the exciting news that the Invincible 
 Spanish Armada, as Philip called his fleet, had 
 been seen off the Cornish coast. Beacon fires of 
 warning were lighted all along the English shore. 
 
1 63 
 
 The warning flew to London. Swift messengers 
 galloped behind, bringing the latest news. The 
 queen herself, mounted on a white horse, rode 
 among her troops. Her ministers begged her not 
 to expose herself to clanger but her answer was 
 made to her troops. " Let tyrants fear," she said. 
 " I have always so behaved myself that, under God, 
 I have placed my chiefest strength and safeguard 
 in the loyal hearts and good will of my subjects 
 and therefore I am come amongst you, as you see, 
 resolved in the midst and the heart of battle, to 
 live or die amongst you all. I know that I have 
 the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have 
 the heart of a king, and of a king of England too." 
 
 England had only thirty-six ships in her navy to 
 respond to the queen's call, but every sea rover, 
 every merchant, and many private gentlemen own- 
 ing ships, hastened to England's defense. 
 
 In the meantime the Armada was coming on. 
 The English saw it approaching, one hundred and 
 thirty-two vessels in all, sailing along in the form 
 of a half moon, seven miles from horn to horn. 
 These huge galleons arose like white castles out 
 of the blue sea. They came on slowly, although 
 their sails were full, "the winds bein^ as it were 
 weary with wafting them, and the ocean groaning 
 under their weight." 
 
164 
 
 The Spanish, knowing their strength, wished to 
 meet the English, but the English got out of their 
 way, and let the "Invincible Armada" pass un- 
 harmed up the Channel. At last the Spanish ships 
 dropped anchor off Calais. For a day they rode 
 there, undaunted in their strength. But at midnight 
 eight huge English ships came sailing toward them 
 through the darkness. The night was black, but 
 the ships were blacker still. They were bound each 
 to each, and every spar, mast, and hull was smeared 
 with tar. At a given signal a line of fire ran across 
 the bow of one. Before the Spanish could believe 
 their eyes, the darkness had become as day, for eight 
 blazing ships were drifting with wind and tide into 
 their midst. Their flames seemed to leap into the 
 heavens. In the uttermost confusion, the Spanish cut 
 their cables and put out to sea, each vessel for itself. 
 
 In the morning the English were ready, and fell 
 upon the disorderly Armada. For two days Drake 
 and Howard chased the Spanish vessels. Then 
 their powder gave out, and their shot failed. But 
 a tempest arose that played even greater havoc 
 with the fleet. It drove the vessels against the 
 rock-bound coasts, wrecking thirty valiant ships. 
 When Philip heard the news, he did not change 
 the expression of his face. " I sent the Armada," 
 he said, "against man, not against the billows." 
 
i6 S 
 
1 66 
 
 England, too, realized that her strength had been 
 in the storm, as well as in the loyal hearts of Drake, 
 Howard, and Raleigh, who had defended her so 
 bravely, for a great medal was struck in honor of 
 the victory, and it bore these words : " God blew, 
 and they were scattered." 
 
 **lc 
 
 SPENSER AND THE FAERIE QUEEN 
 
 For many long years England had no singer. 
 The singing spirit that had awakened in Casdmon, 
 and later in Chaucer, seemed to have fallen into a 
 deep sleep. It seemed as if poets and poetry be- 
 longed only to the past. But then, suddenly, in the 
 reign of Elizabeth, Edmund Spenser was born. 
 
 He grew up unnoticed, hardly knowing himself 
 that he was a poet. It is in one of his own poems 
 that he tells us how the world first came to know of 
 his songs. He was born in England, but had gone 
 over to Ireland as a young man, and there he was 
 living in his castle Kilcolman, when Sir Walter 
 Raleigh, sent on a commission by the queen, found 
 him. There, beneath the shade of " Old Father 
 Mole," as he called the great, gray mountain, and 
 close by the " Shiny Mulla River," Spenser was liv- 
 ing, piping on his reed like a poor shepherd. Sir 
 
167 
 
 Walter Raleigh was somewhat of a poet himself, 
 and the two men soon felt that they were akin. 
 Spenser forgot his shyness, and read to his guest 
 three books of verses, which he called " The Faerie 
 Queen," and Raleigh in return recited some verses 
 
 Spenser and Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 
 that he had written about the great and noble Queen 
 Elizabeth. So each played a merry tune upon the 
 shepherd's pipe. Then Sir Walter took his new- 
 found friend by the hand, and bade him come back 
 with him to England. He told him that no songs 
 like his had been heard in England for many a year, 
 and how gladly the queen, who loved books and 
 men who could write them, would welcome him. 
 
i68 
 
 So Spenser went forth from his lonely castle to 
 the dazzling court of Elizabeth. Sir Walter Raleigh 
 had spoken truly. The queen smiled upon him, and 
 all England read with delight his " Faerie Queen." 
 
 In a letter to Sir Walter Raleigh, Spenser tells 
 him what he planned to do in this great book of 
 poetry. The hero of the poem is to be Prince 
 Arthur, a knight perfect in every virtue. There 
 are to be twelve books, one for each of the twelve 
 virtues, and each virtue is pictured by its own knight. 
 In the last book the knight perfect in all virtues is 
 to come to the court of the Faerie Queen. Unfor- 
 tunately Spenser never finished his great task, but 
 the six books of the " Faerie Queen " are the most 
 beautiful poetry that had been written in the Eng- 
 lish language since Chaucer's " Canterbury Tales." 
 Every poet since then has loved Spenser's verses, 
 and every child should read them, for they are full 
 of tales of wonderful adventures in strange and mar- 
 velous lands. 
 
 The first book is about the Knight of the Red 
 Cross, who was riding across the plain, clad in 
 mighty arms and a silver shield, and wearing a 
 blood-red cross upon his breast. Beside him, on an 
 ass more white than snow, rode a gentle lady, whose 
 veil was drawn across her face, and who drooped 
 as if her heart was heavy with some woe. By one 
 
1 69 
 
 fair hand she led a milk-white lamb, and the poet 
 tells that the lady was as pure and innocent as this 
 little creature. She had been born a royal princess, 
 but a huge monster had come into her father's king- 
 dom and laid waste the land. And now this knight 
 was come from afar to avenge her wrong. Together 
 they rode through the woods, among cedars " proud 
 and tall," " the builder's oak, sole king of the forests 
 all," the aspens that are good for staves, and the 
 laurel that grows to crown the brows of poets and 
 conquerors. A tempest was raging, but beneath the 
 trees no harm from wind nor rain could come to the 
 knight and his lady. But here in the " Wandering 
 Wood " other dangers awaited them. Suddenly 
 they found that they had lost their way. Paths led 
 here and there, but none went forth from the forest. 
 At last they chose the best worn trail, and followed 
 it until it came to a hollow cave amid the thickest 
 woods. The knight quickly dismounted, but his 
 "lady sought to hold him back." 
 
 " Be well aware," she said, " for I know this wood 
 better than thou, and the dangers that are hid 
 herein. This is the Wandering Wood, and yonder 
 is the den of Errour, a monster hated by God and 
 man." 
 
 But the knight, full of fire, would not be stayed. 
 Forth into the darksome hole he went, his glisten- 
 
170 
 
 ing armor making a little light by which he saw the 
 huge monster Errour, lying in its den. There she 
 lay upon the ground, her long tail coiled and 
 knotted behind her, each knot pointed with a mortal 
 sting. Like a young lion, blade in hand, the 
 knight sprang upon her, and she in rage let out a 
 frightful roar, and, gathering her strength, leaped 
 upon his shining shield. She seemed to bind his 
 arms and hands and feet so that he could not move. 
 Without, his lady saw his sad plight, but urged him 
 on to combat. 
 
 " Now, now, Sir Knight, show what ye be," she 
 cried. " Add faith unto your force and be not faint." 
 
 At her words new strength seemed to come to 
 him, and with one mighty effort he drew his arm 
 forth from the monster's clutches, and strangled her. 
 
 Then rode his lady forth to meet him, and said: — 
 
 " Fair knight, born under a happy star, well 
 worthy be you of your armor wherein ye have great 
 glory now this day, and proved your strength on a 
 strong enemy. This is your first adventure. May 
 you have many more, and in each one succeed as 
 you have done here." 
 
 There were indeed many more adventures that 
 befell this noble knight of the Red Cross before 
 they arrived in the fair lady's native land. And 
 here the knight met the dire dragon, whose wings 
 
171 
 
 went round like windmills, and from whose mouth 
 issued a cloud of smoke and sulphur. It was a 
 terrible combat, lasting three days, but in the end 
 the lady won back her kingdom, and the knight 
 won the lady's heart and 'hand. 
 
 >j*s< 
 
 SHAKESPEARE 
 
 There were many pretty English villages at the 
 time of Queen Elizabeth, and one of them was 
 Stratford, not many miles away from Kenilworth 
 Castle, which the queen made famous by her royal 
 visit. It was a sleepy village in those days, lying 
 on the winding banks of the Avon River, with the 
 great oak forests round about it. There were 
 crooked little streets of low wooden houses with 
 heavy oaken doors shaded by penthouses, and in 
 their midst stood an old stone church, whose pretty 
 tower was often reflected in the Avon. In the 
 spring and summer the village was gay with color. 
 Soft green willows hung over the river, buttercups 
 and daisies made the banks glisten like gold, red 
 poppies blew among the wheatfields, and gardens 
 of primroses, pansies, and "blue-veined" violets 
 nestled at the side of every home. 
 
 In one of these houses there was born, in the 
 
172 
 
 spring of 1564, a little boy who was to make the 
 pretty, quiet village famous throughout the wide 
 world. He was christened in the quaint old church, 
 and the name that w T as given him was William 
 
 F~ 
 
 
 w-'" £ l ^ : " ;MM - 
 
 "''"I /:)'" S" 
 
 U ; "llT 
 
 Hiiir.fi 
 
 *%■ x _ 
 
 
 . i II uuv 
 
 Shakespeare's Birthplace. 
 
 Shakespeare. Unfortunately, we do not know much 
 about Shakespeare's life. We can only imagine 
 what he did from what we know of the way that 
 people lived in those days ; and from the many, 
 many things which he wrote in his wonderful plays. 
 Probably Shakespeare first learned his letters at 
 home from a single printed sheet, set in a wooden 
 frame and covered with a thin transparent horn, 
 from which it got its name of a " horn book." The 
 
173 
 
 alphabet was printed upon it in large and small 
 letters, and below them the Lord's Prayer. When 
 he could read, and as soon as he was seven years 
 old, the Stratford boy was sent to the Grammar 
 School. 
 
 The schoolroom was very plain and bare. There 
 were no pictures on the walls, and no flowers in the 
 window. The only furniture was the rows of desks 
 and hard wooden benches. The only lessons 
 Shakespeare probably learned were in Arithmetic, 
 Latin, and a little Greek. It was not until years 
 afterwards that schoolmasters first thought of teach- 
 ing their pupils how to speak and write their own 
 tongue. 
 
 It may have been just because his school lessons 
 were so dry and uninteresting that the boy, William 
 Shakespeare, put himself so eagerly to school in the 
 world about him. He stood at the meeting of the 
 two highways in the village square, where the great 
 coaches that went from one city to another halted 
 to water their horses. He listened to the tales of 
 the drivers and the travelers, tales of the great sea 
 heroes, perhaps Frobisher and Drake ; tales of other 
 lands and strange islands lying far across the sea 
 in the New World ; and tales of the queen and the 
 great court festivals at London. He roamed about 
 the fields and meadows, turning the slender willow 
 
74 
 
 leaves over to see their white undersides ; learning 
 the names of the wild moon daisies, the yellow rattle 
 grass, and the white milkwort. With his ears always 
 open, he listened to many a marvelous charm recited 
 
 by the old women 
 of the village, who 
 told him what 
 plants were used 
 by the witches, 
 why the topaz 
 stone cured mad- 
 ness, and why the 
 hyacinth protected 
 one from light- 
 ning. 
 
 Once or twice a 
 year great county 
 fairs were held, to 
 which the boys of 
 those days looked 
 forward as eagerly as modern boys do to the circus. 
 Here were booths where all kinds of charms were 
 sold, love charms and magical fun seed, which if put 
 in your shoes made you invisible. We can imagine 
 that the boy Shakespeare did not stay at home 
 bending over his dull Latin when the fair was go- 
 ing on. 
 
 Shakespeare at the Age of Twelve. 
 
175 
 
 Not far from Stratford there was another town 
 which was famous in those days for its religious 
 plays. The plays were first given by the Order of 
 Grayfriars, but in Shakespeare's time they were 
 performed by the great guilds of the town. The 
 guilds were the clubs in those days. The weavers 
 had their guild, the merchants had theirs, and the 
 builders had theirs. These guilds in the country 
 performed, on the feast days of the year, plays tell- 
 ing the story in simple English of the birth, the life, 
 and the death of Christ. They were not given in 
 theaters, but on platforms, which were* wheeled out 
 into the village square, where great crowds of people 
 could see the play. 
 
 Probably Shakespeare as a boy saw these plays. 
 It may be that later on he heard of different and 
 greater plays given in London, and that the desire 
 to see them took him away from his native village. 
 He was twenty-one when he came down to London, 
 poor and friendless. He found his first work in 
 standing outside of the theaters, and holding the 
 horses of the gentlemen who came to see the play. 
 From then until he died he was connected with the 
 theater. He acted some himself, he made little cor- 
 rections in the lines of the plays, then he wrote a 
 play with a friend, and finally he began on his great 
 work of writing plays alone. These plays were so 
 
iy6 
 
 An Elizabethan Theater. 
 
 remarkable that Shakespeare performed them sev- 
 eral times before the queen, and became known as 
 one of the greatest writers of the day. 
 
 Shakespeare did not invent new plots for his 
 plays, as writers seek so often to do nowadays. 
 
\77 
 
 LIT. STO. OF ENG. — 12 
 
178 
 
 He took old stories, stories from Chaucer, from 
 the Greek, and from the Latin, and turned them 
 into wonderful dramas. He took great historical 
 figures like Julius Caesar and Mark Anthony, and 
 made them more real in his dramas than any his- 
 torian had done. He read the old English Chron- 
 icles, and in a long line of plays has given us the 
 great scenes in English history, from the time of 
 the weak King John through the fall of Cardinal 
 Wolsey. Sometimes he wrote gay comedies of 
 love in the spring-clad forests of Arden, and 
 again he wrote the sternest of tragedies, laying 
 the scene in some rock-bound castle in the dreary 
 North. He could portray any kind of a man or 
 woman, king or jester, princess or country lass, 
 and make them live before our eyes. 
 
 His plays and his theater brought him in a great 
 deal of money. As he grew older, he went back 
 again to his quaint Stratford, where he lived with 
 his family until he died. He lies buried in the 
 little church beside the river. 
 
179 
 
 THE COUSINS FROM SCOTLAND 
 
 When Elizabeth was dying, her courtiers be- 
 sought her to tell them who should reign after 
 her. The old queen opened her eyes, and gave 
 this sharp reply: " Who indeed but our cousin from 
 Scotland ! " 
 
 This was a memorable day for England. Ever 
 since the early days when Caesar landed on the 
 island, there had been fighting between the Britons 
 of the South and the Picts of the North. Now the 
 two countries were united under the name of Great 
 Britain, with James Stuart as their king. 
 
 King James left the people of Edinburgh in 
 tears. As he crossed the borderland, the English 
 cannon thundered him a loud and hearty welcome. 
 All along the route the people hung flags and gar- 
 lands of flowers, and great crowds shouted hurrahs 
 as he passed by. They little dreamed then that this 
 monarch, to whom they were now bowing so low, 
 was come to scatter the prosperity which Elizabeth 
 had brought to England, and sow the seeds of a ter- 
 rible war. 
 
 The English people are a loyal nation, and dur- 
 ing the twenty-two years of James the First's reign 
 they remained faithful to him, in spite of his dis- 
 honest acts and unlawful deeds. They even let his 
 
8o 
 
 son Charles be crowned after him ; and as he was 
 
 much more agreeable in his manner than his father 
 
 had been, they believed that he would make a wiser 
 
 and better king. But James 
 
 I had filled his son's mind 
 
 with his own ideas. He had 
 
 taught him that God had 
 
 chosen him to be England's 
 
 king, and therefore whatever 
 
 he did was right and lawful. 
 
 Throughout his life Charles 
 
 believed this to be 
 
 true. He started 
 
 out to rule exactly 
 
 as he pleased. 
 
 But the English 
 Parliament ' at last 
 awoke. " A king," 
 they said, " should 
 rule not according 
 to his own will, but Kin s charles l 
 
 according to the will of the nation." When Charles 
 refused to govern in this spirit, they refused to grant 
 him money. 
 
 It was customary at this time for the House of 
 Commons to vote to a new king at the beginning 
 of his reign a tax for life on all goods which came 
 
181 
 
 in or went out of the country. To Charles, the 
 House of Commons granted this tax for one year 
 only. When the year had passed, it was not renewed. 
 Then the king asserted what he thought was his 
 right, and ordered the merchants to pay him the tax. 
 Several who refused were straightway thrown into 
 prison. Parliament, enraged, now passed a resolu- 
 tion that any man who paid this tax was an enemy 
 to the country. Then the king took the last step, 
 and dissolved Parliament. For eleven years he 
 ruled without one, levying taxes at his own pleasure. 
 It was not until Charles saw that a war with Scot- 
 land would follow if a new Parliament was not sum- 
 moned, that he issued the call. This meant merely 
 a renewing of the quarrel between the king and the 
 state. One of Parliament's first acts was to draw 
 up a lengthy document setting forth the bad conduct 
 of the kins: ever since he came to the throne. But 
 even now there were many members of Parliament 
 who did not believe in the faithlessness of their king. 
 A stormy debate arose over this document, which 
 was called " The Great Remonstrance." The session 
 lasted far into the night. Finally it was passed. 
 Feeling was so strong that swords were drawn. 
 Oliver Cromwell, one of the leaders in carrying 
 through the Great Remonstrance, said as he passed 
 out of the hall at midnight, " If it had not passed, I 
 
182 
 
 would have sold all my land and goods to-morrow and 
 left England forever." 
 
 The king consented to having the document read. 
 Then he turned around, and, accusing the five leaders 
 of the movement of high treason, ordered their arrest. 
 The House of Commons replied that they would 
 consider the matter. Charles was in no mood to 
 wait. Urged on by his queen, he went down to the 
 House of Commons with five hundred armed gentle- 
 men, and demanded these five men to be handed 
 over to him. But the five men whom he sought 
 were not there. The king's cheeks were flushed 
 with anger. u Since I see that my birds are flown, 
 I do expect from you," he cried, " that you will send 
 them to me as soon as they return hither; other- 
 wise," he added threateningly, " I must take my own 
 course to find them." 
 
 Charles's own course was war. The queen fled to 
 Holland to sell the royal jewels to raise money for 
 him. Nobles and the gentlemen of the realm flocked 
 to his standard. The West and the North remained 
 loyal, but the East and the South, with London, stood 
 firm for Parliament. The king's forces wore their 
 hair long and dressed in gay colors. They were 
 called the Cavaliers. The army, which was back of 
 Parliament, wore their hair cut short, the plainest 
 of clothes, and queer-shaped hats which won them 
 
i83 
 
 the name of Roundheads. At their front rode Oliver 
 Cromwell. Cromwell was a Puritan, and his idea of 
 duty was stern. He filled his ranks with men of 
 spirit. He drilled them constantly. His discipline 
 was very strict. If a man in his army swore, he was 
 fined a shilling. If a man got drunk, he was put in 
 the stocks. If he called one of his mates a Round- 
 head, he was dismissed from the army. It was this 
 leader and these men that, in the end, gave Parlia- 
 ment the victory. 
 
 The war went on many years with shifting for- 
 tunes. The end of it was that the king was sum- 
 moned before Parliament to be tried. This trial 
 was not lawful. No subject had a right to call his 
 king to account for his deeds. No action of the 
 House of Commons could become a law unless it 
 was passed upon by the House of Lords and the 
 king. But Charles had proved himself faithless and 
 a tyrant. He had thrown his country into a civil 
 war. He was convinced that all that he had done 
 was right, and no man on earth could make him 
 confess that he was wrong or promise to rule other- 
 wise in the future. When he was brought before 
 Parliament, he refused to plead his case. He was 
 tried, not as the king, but as plain Charles Stuart. 
 The fifth day of the trial, he was condemned to 
 death. 
 
Charles met nothing in life so nobly as he did his 
 death. He asked only that he might first see two 
 of his children, his little thirteen-year-old daughter 
 Elizabeth, and his nine-year-old son. As they came 
 
 Children of Charles I, 
 
 into the room Charles drew his son to his knee and 
 kissed him gently. " Sweetheart,' 1 he said, " now 
 they will cut off thy father's head ; mark, child, what 
 I say: They will cut off my head and perhaps make 
 
r85 
 
 thee a king ; but mark what I say: You must not 
 be king as long as your brothers Charles and James 
 do live ; for they will cut off your brothers' heads 
 when they can catch them, and cut off thy head too, 
 at the last; and therefore 1 charge you not to be 
 made king by them." 
 
 And the little boy looked earnestly into his father's 
 face with great tears in his eyes and cried, " I will 
 be torn to pieces first." 
 
 Then the king turned to his little daughter Eliza- 
 beth and spoke very gently to her. " Do not grieve 
 and mourn for me when I am gone," he said; "for I 
 am dying for England's liberty. And you must for- 
 give my enemies, even as I hope God will forgive 
 them, my daughter." Then he kissed her, and bade 
 her say to her mother that his love had never strayed 
 from her, but was the same to the very end. 
 
 So the little prince and princess bade their father 
 a sad farewell, scarce understanding the words that 
 he had spoken to them. 
 
 A few days later came the morning: on which he 
 was to die. 
 
 " Bring me a warmer shirt than usual," Charles 
 said to his servant, as he was dressing. " For the air 
 is sharp and cold and I would not shiver on the way, 
 lest my people should think that I was trembling 
 with fear," 
 
1 86 
 
 Then he went quickly and calmly to the scaffold, 
 and died like a true gentleman. 
 
 ^x>X*!< 
 
 OLIVER CROMWELL 
 
 The king was dead, and through England went 
 the proclamation that it was treason to give that 
 title again to any man. England was declared a 
 commonwealth. There was to be no longer a House 
 of Lords; England should be ruled henceforth by 
 Parliament. But it did not take long to see where 
 the real power that was to govern England lay. 
 When Ireland revolted against the Commonwealth, 
 it was not Parliament that subdued her. When the 
 men of Scotland arose and declared that they had 
 no part in the execution of Charles I and were loyal 
 to his son Prince Charles, it was not Parliament that 
 drove the young prince from the land and forced 
 Scotland to yield once more to the English. The 
 commanding power, the strong right arm of the 
 nation at this time, was in Cromwell's arm v. Be- 
 lieving in the righteousness of his cause, Cromwell 
 marched against town after town in Ireland, conquer- 
 ing without mercy. Scarcely had he Ireland under 
 his hand than the word reached him that Scotland 
 was offering Prince Charles the crown. On June 
 
i8 7 
 
 24, the young prince landed in Scotland. One 
 month later Cromwell crossed the border with his 
 He marched boldly against Edinburgh, but 
 
 ar 
 
 my. 
 
 the Scottish forces were too strong for him to dare 
 
 Cromwell before a Portrait of Charles I. 
 
 attack them. His outlook was most discouraging. 
 He started to retreat ; but the Scotch had seized the 
 pass through which led the road down into England. 
 On one side stretched the great blue summer sea. 
 On the other rose the hills, which were alive with 
 Scottish troops. Had the Scots had patience, 
 Cromwell could never have defeated them at Dun- 
 
bar. But they grew weary of waiting, and decided 
 to make the attack themselves. On the morning of 
 September 3, Cromwell saw them descending the 
 hillsides. He waited until they had reached the 
 bottom, and then he charged with his whole army 
 into the midst of them ; driving them hopelessly back 
 against the hillside. " Let God arise, let his enemies 
 be scattered! " were the words which arose to the lips 
 of the victor as he saw the ruins of the noble Scot- 
 tish army at his feet. But the Scots would not call 
 themselves beaten. A year later, with their young 
 king in the midst of them, they met Cromwell again 
 at Worcester. This was the last time that Crom- 
 well drew sword for England. His victory was 
 complete. The young king took refuge in flight. 
 Cromwell's soldiers were on the watch for him 
 throughout the land, but Charles finally escaped, 
 although those days were full of adventure for him. 
 He hid first in a peasant's house, where he cut off his 
 hair and put on the coarse homespun clothes of a 
 farmer. Hearing that there were spies about, the 
 peasant led the king away at night into the forest, 
 and hid with him there high in the leafy branches of 
 a monstrous oak. Then he made his way farther dis- 
 guised as a servant, and rode down to Bristol with a 
 Miss Lane on the pillion behind him. Here he 
 came near being discovered, but he finally bribed a 
 
1 89 
 
 fisherman to take him to France, where he waited 
 until his people should again summon him back to 
 be their king. 
 
 The hero of the hour now in England was Oliver 
 Cromwell. Fie turned from the victories of war to 
 the victories of peace. The tasks that confronted 
 him now were harder than waging war. The cour- 
 age needed to do them was greater than the bravery 
 of battle. But when the hour of danger struck, 
 Cromwell never faltered. 
 
 England was now a republic. She was to be 
 governed henceforth by the people. Cromwell soon 
 saw that the Long Parliament did not represent the 
 people. He saw that it was not ready to bring about 
 needed reforms. It did not have the public good at 
 heart. One day, seated in the midst of Parliament, 
 the spirit of anger blazed forth, and he cried out in 
 a voice that shook the roof : " Come, come ! We 
 have had enough of this. I will put an end to this. 
 It is not fit that you should sit here any longer." 
 And he called in his soldiers and cleared the room. 
 That was the end of the Long Parliament. 
 
 Now England was completely in the power of 
 Cromwell and his army. But it was not a time of 
 rejoicing for the conqueror. He felt only too keenly 
 the burden of the task that lay before him. As 
 he watched the members of Parliament crowding 
 
190 
 
 through the doors, his anger turned to sadness. " It 
 \s you, you," he sighed, " that forced this upon me. I 
 
 Cromwell ends the Long Parliament. 
 
 have sought the Lord night and day that He would 
 rather slay me than put upon me the doing of this 
 work." 
 
 With a heavy heart Cromwell looked over the land. 
 The king, the lords, and now the commons had 
 fallen because they had failed to fulfill the duties 
 that had been made their trust. He decided to call 
 together a body of godly men to govern England. 
 Among those whom he selected was one man named 
 Praise God Barebones. Afterwards, when it was 
 
i9i 
 
 found how unwisely these good men ruled, they were 
 nicknamed Barebones' Parliament. They finally 
 were forced to resign because they did not know how 
 to govern. Cromwell was chosen Lord Protector of 
 the realm, and another Parliament was summoned. 
 Later Parliament offered Cromwell the title of king, 
 but he refused it ; and yet he saw that his strength 
 alone would save England in those clays. He 
 brought the foreign wars to an end, and kept his own 
 army well trained to put clown any civil uprising. 
 He determined that Parliament should govern by 
 high ideals. When he saw them weakening, he dis- 
 solved the Parliament. He stood alone, one man, 
 before them and spoke unflinchingly. " I can say 
 in the presence of God, in comparison with whom 
 we are but like poor creeping ants upon the earth, I 
 would have been glad to have lived under any wood- 
 side, to have kept a flock of sheep, rather than under- 
 taken such a government as this." Then he bade 
 the members of Parliament go out of the room and 
 back to their homes. " The Lord judge between me 
 and you," were his farewell words to them. 
 
 This was Cromwell's last Parliament. That sum- 
 mer he lost his favorite daughter. His health had 
 been broken by his long hard years of active service, 
 and this shock was too great for him. On August 
 30 a great storm raged over England. The winds 
 
192 
 
 howled and the great trees were swept down as reeds. 
 For three days life and death battled for Cromwell's 
 brave soul. On September 3, the anniversary of 
 his great battle at Dunbar, he passed away. His 
 dying words were a prayer for the English people 
 for whom so many years he had fought and worked. 
 " Lord," he prayed, " however thou do dispose of me, 
 continue and go on to do good to them. Give them 
 consistency of judgment, one heart, and mutual love." 
 Even in death he never forgot the duty that had 
 fallen to his hand to do. 
 
 >**ic 
 
 THE PILOT OF THE STATE 
 
 When Queen Elizabeth died without leaving 
 an heir, England summoned one of the Stuarts to 
 her throne. Now when the great Protector lay 
 dead and England found herself once more with- 
 out a ruler, she turned again to the Stuarts, 
 calling Prince Charles to come back across the 
 seas and wear the English crown. Two Stuarts 
 reigned before the revolution, and the second died 
 upon the scaffold. Two Stuarts reigned after the 
 war, and the second, James II, was obliged after 
 three years to flee for his life from the land which 
 called him kino:. The crown was now offered to 
 
193 
 
 his daughter Mary, who had married a Dutch 
 prince, William of Orange. 
 
 William and Mary ruled jointly for five years, 
 and then the queen died. William looked about 
 
 
 
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 Coronation of William and Mary. 
 
 him in despair. " I was the happiest man on earth, 
 and now I am the most miserable," he said to one 
 of the bishops at the funeral. It seemed to him 
 perhaps as if the only person in England who loved 
 
 LIT. STO. OF ENG. 1 3 
 
194 
 
 him had suddenly been taken away. In Ireland, in 
 Scotland, and in England the spirit of revolt was 
 ripe. " We do not want to be ruled by a Dutch- 
 man," was the common cry. Across the Channel 
 the French king was doing his utmost to depose 
 William. 
 
 But William faced his people calmly and bravely. 
 With sure, firm hand he put down one rebellion 
 after another. He was just winning the confidence 
 of the nation when he was thrown from his horse 
 and died. Anne, the sister of Mary, became 
 queen. Like Elizabeth, Anne never married. At 
 the close of her rule the throne again stood vacant. 
 A third time England was obliged to call a Stuart 
 to wear her crown. Prince George of Hanover in 
 Germany was the great-grandson of James I, " our 
 cousin from Scotland." He was a dull, rather stupid 
 man, knowing no word of English and caring little 
 for the English crown that was now offered him. 
 It was almost with reluctance that he left his German 
 friends to become England's king. Moreover, after 
 he was crowned, he took no pains to learn to speak 
 English or to understand the interests of his people. 
 When he met his ministers, he was distinctly bored 
 by the business that they brought before him. He 
 could not preside at these meetings because he 
 could talk only through an interpreter. Gradually 
 
195 
 
 Walpole. 
 
 it was seen that one of the ministers must step for- 
 ward and govern the realm ; that there must be 
 one minister who was first, or, 
 as the Latin word is, prime. 
 Ever since the days of George I, 
 England has had a prime minis- 
 ter, a statesman who has been 
 the pilot of the ship of state. 
 
 Walpole was the first minister 
 to hold this important position. 
 For twenty-one years he was the 
 real ruler, for neither George I, nor his son George 
 II, ever governed England. Walpole was not a 
 great orator, but he had the welfare of the people at 
 heart, and he made wise laws 
 that helped to make England one 
 of the great industrial and com- 
 mercial nations. 
 
 The man who succeeded Wal- 
 pole was William Pitt, who won 
 the name of the Great Commoner. 
 His face was noble, and his voice 
 musical and powerful. . "When 
 once I am upon my feet everything that is in my 
 mind comes out," he once said. And it came out 
 with such a volley of fire and enthusiasm that every 
 man in the hall was thrilled and stirred, to action, 
 
 Willi 
 
 Pitt. 
 
Pitt felt the spirit of discontent that still lay buried 
 in the hearts of many. He saw war with France 
 becoming more and more threatening. He knew 
 that the old patriotism was dead or asleep. " Eng- 
 land's day has passed," were the words written on 
 the faces of many that he passed in the street. "We 
 are no longer a nation," were the words that came 
 from the mouth of one of the great statesmen. 
 
 The moment that Pitt became prime minister he 
 started to rouse the people out of their despond- 
 ency. " Be one people ! " he cried. " Forget every- 
 thing but the public welfare! I set you an example." 
 All through the land rang this cry of courage. All 
 eyes were turned to watch this new leader. It was 
 said that no man ever went to talk with Pitt but he 
 came away feeling braver and more full of hope. 
 
 Pitt knew that it was in, the young men that the 
 strength of the nation lay. It was he who selected 
 Wolfe for the conquest of Canada. Pitt knew the 
 spirit that was in this man, who has become one of 
 the heroes of history. It was burning courage that 
 led Wolfe and his men, dragging their heavy cannon 
 behind them, up the steep and narrow path, leading 
 to Quebec, under the cover of the night. The dawn 
 broke. The battle began. As Wolfe was cheering 
 his men, he fell, wounded. As they bore him off to 
 the rear, he heard the shout, " They run." 
 
197 
 
198 
 
 " Who run ? " he asked eagerly, striving to rise. 
 
 " The French run," came the answer. 
 
 The young man sank back with a smile upon his 
 face. " I die content," were his last words. 
 
 Quebec surrendered, and shortly afterwards the 
 rest of Canada, which has ever since been one of 
 England's finest colonies. 
 
 In another way, Pitt showed how far-seeing and 
 wise his vision was. He saw, what the king and 
 Parliament could not or would not see, that the 
 American colonies had justice on their side when 
 they refused to be taxed without representation. 
 He knew the spirit that was in these colonists, who 
 had left all in England to go out and live in an 
 unknown and uncivilized land. He knew the 
 spirit that the sons had inherited from their 
 fathers. Again and again he raised up his voice 
 in their behalf. " You cannot conquer America ! " 
 he cried. " If I were an American, I would never 
 lay down my arms, never, never, never." But Eng- 
 and would not listen to his cry. 
 
 When Pitt died, his son took his place and car- 
 ried forward nobly the work which his father had 
 begun. By his statesmanship, Ireland became for 
 the first time a real part of England; Irish members 
 were to sit in the English Parliament, and the same 
 laws were to govern both countries. 
 
199 
 
 The English saw how wise it was to have a pilot 
 of state, a prime minister. Some of her greatest 
 patriots have held this position ; some of her great- 
 est patriots will hold it in the future. War among 
 the nations is giving way to peace among the na- 
 tions. The warrior is no longer the hero of the 
 country. The statesman is the leader, — the pilot 
 of the state. 
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS 
 
 One of the greatest painters of children who 
 ever lived was an Englishman, Sir Joshua Reynolds, 
 who was born in Devonshire during the reign of 
 George I. Sir Joshuas father was a clergyman, 
 but his ten brothers and sisters all loved art, and all 
 of them could draw and paint. At first the father 
 thought that Joshua's drawings were mere boy's 
 play. He wanted his son to be a physician, and, 
 when he found that Joshua had neglected his Latin 
 exercise to sketch on the back of the sheet of paper, 
 he took the drawing and wrote across it, " This 
 is drawn by Joshua in school out of pure idleness." 
 He thought in this way he would shame the boy, 
 but the love of painting was too deep in Joshua's 
 heart. When he later gained his father's consent 
 to go to London and study drawing, he wrote home, 
 
200 
 
 " While doing this I am the happiest creature 
 alive." 
 
 Joshua was thirteen years old when he painted 
 his first portrait. One day when he was in church 
 he made a sketch of the preacher on his thumb nail. 
 After the service he and another boy, wandering 
 along the beach, found a piece of an old sail, and 
 Joshua stretched it out and painted a portrait on it 
 from the sketch on his thumb nail. It was after this 
 that his father sent him to Hudson, a well-known 
 London portrait painter. 
 
 The young pupil had so much more talent than 
 his master, that Hudson soon grew jealous of him. 
 One day he gave Reynolds a portrait, and told him 
 
 to take it to a certain Mr. that evening. A 
 
 hard storm came up that evening, so Reynolds did 
 not deliver the picture until the following evening. 
 When Hudson heard this, he was so angry that he 
 turned Reynolds out of his studio. He had only 
 been waiting for an opportunity to get rid of this 
 young man, who, he saw, would soon be painting 
 portraits much better than his own. Reynolds, like 
 all other artists, was very anxious to go to Italy and 
 see the beautiful paintings by the old masters ; but 
 like many other artists, he was too poor to go. The 
 chance came to him quite unexpectedly. At a 
 friend's house he met Admiral Keppel, who was 
 
201 
 
 then in command of the British squadron in the 
 Mediterranean. He invited the young artist to go 
 to Italy on his ship. 
 
 For four years Reynolds stayed in Italy. He 
 went from one great gallery to another, studying 
 and copying the old masters. Always at his side 
 stood a poor Italian waif, who carried his palette and 
 mixed his colors. One night at the opera, the 
 orchestra played a simple little English song. It 
 awoke in Reynolds such a homesickness that he 
 told the little Italian boy the next day that he must 
 find a new master, for he was going back to Eng- 
 land. Giuseppe began to cry and beg that he 
 might go too. When Reynolds saw how the boy 
 loved him, he promised to take him too. They set 
 out together, but when they reached Lyons Rey- 
 nolds found that he had scarcely enough money to 
 get home himself. He told Giuseppe he must re- 
 turn to Italy, and he went sadly on alone to Paris. 
 Eight days later Giuseppe met him there, weary 
 and footsore. He had walked all the three hun- 
 dred miles rather than leave his friend. This devo- 
 tion lasted as long as Giuseppe lived. He worked 
 in Reynolds's studio, mixing his colors, preparing 
 the canvas, and learning to paint a little himself. 
 Some one once said that he was hands and feet, eyes 
 and ears for the artist, but Reynolds replied, " He 
 
202 
 
 is an angel sent from God to help me do my 
 work." 
 
 One of the first portraits that Reynolds painted 
 after his return from Italy was that of his friend, 
 
 ( 
 
 :. 
 
 
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 Dinner at Sir Joshua's. 
 
 Commander Keppel. It was so successful that 
 people flocked to his studio to be painted. Among 
 them came many famous men and women. Dr. 
 Samuel Johnson, the writer, became one of his 
 dearest friends. Reynolds painted four portraits of 
 him, in his rusty brown suit and uncombed wig. 
 Gibbon, the historian, came too, to sit for Reynolds, 
 — a very different model from Johnson, in his 
 velvet coat, powdered and crimped wig, and gold 
 
203 
 
 snuffbox in his hand. Then there were Edmund 
 Burke the orator, Goldsmith the poet, and Garrick 
 the actor, who were all proud to be painted by 
 Reynolds. 
 
 There were 
 many beautiful 
 women, too, who 
 sat for this great 
 portrait painter. 
 One of them was 
 the Duchess of 
 Hamilton, who was 
 so lovely that when 
 she entered the 
 queen's drawing 
 room the courtiers 
 stood on chairs and 
 tables to get a 
 glimpse of her. 
 Reynolds liked to paint children, and many of his 
 masterpieces are portraits of the little English boys 
 and girls of his day. He had no children of his 
 own, but his niece, Offy, lived in his home, and 
 Reynolds painted her in the costume of a village 
 girl with a basket of strawberries on her arm. 
 Fifteen years later he painted Offy's little daughter, 
 and called the picture " Simplicity." It was hard 
 
 
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 Wm' "^jfe 
 
 
 
 1 °^m*^ 
 
 
 
 Px/^lJ 
 
 
 
 Br X -41P^ 
 
 
 
 
 
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 Simplicity. 
 
204 
 
 for little children to sit long enough to have their 
 portraits painted, but Reynolds was always very 
 kind. Once a beggar child fell asleep while posing 
 as a model. The artist did not wake him, but taking 
 a fresh canvas, made a sketch of the sleeping boy. 
 Before it was finished the child turned in its sleep, 
 and Reynolds made another sketch beside the first 
 one. Later he put in a forest background, and 
 called the picture " Babes in the Woods." 
 
 His famous " Angel Heads " is really five portraits 
 of the same lovely-faced, golden-haired little girl. 
 
 Reynolds never stopped painting until he grew 
 blind with old age. He was deaf, too, bujt he was 
 as genial and kind as ever. Only once* he gave 
 way to sorrow. His pet canary escaped, and flew 
 out the window. For hours Reynolds groped his 
 way up and down the square, trying in vain to find 
 his little yellow companion. 
 
 He died in London in the fullness of his honor, 
 and was buried in the cathedral of St. Paul, where 
 lies also the great Dutch portrait painter, Van 
 Dyke. He left behind him some three thousand 
 pictures. In the height of his skill he could paint 
 and finish a portrait in four hours. When Lord 
 Holland discovered how short a time Reynolds had 
 worked on his portrait, and how large a sum he 
 asked for it, he remarked, — 
 
205 
 
 " You get money very quickly. It did not take 
 you much time. How long were you about this 
 picture ? " 
 
 " All my life," was Reynolds's answer. 
 
 From his boyhood to his old age he had given 
 the best hours of every day of his life to his art. 
 
 >&z< 
 
 HORATIO NELSON 
 
 In the heart of London lies a great square, which 
 all day long is crowded with people, and across 
 which the London buses are continually passing. 
 High in its midst stands a tall column of massive 
 granite, with four couchant lions at its base. One 
 
206 
 
 hundred and forty-five feet into the air this column 
 rises, and on its top stands the statue of Horatio 
 Nelson. The people of all England gave the 
 
 money to raise this 
 monument, because 
 their love for Nel- 
 son was so great 
 that they wished 
 every man, woman, 
 and child who came 
 to London to think 
 at least for a mo- 
 ment of this British 
 hero. And those 
 who will pause at 
 the foot of the statue 
 and walk about it 
 will see in bronze 
 relief four scenes in 
 
 Nelson Monument. Nelson's life, that 
 
 tell why the English people dedicated this great 
 square and raised this huge column to his memory. 
 When Horatio Nelson was only twelve years old, 
 he wrote and asked his uncle if he might not go to sea 
 with him. His uncle hesitated a little, for he knew 
 that the boy was not very strong; but perhaps he 
 had heard Horatio's answer to his grandmother. 
 
207 
 
 Horatio when a very small child ran away one day 
 with a stable boy hunting birds' nests. His parents 
 waited and waited ; they called, but no answer came 
 back. At length a search was made, and he was 
 found sitting beside a brook which he could not 
 cross. " I wonder, my child," said his grandmother 
 to him, when they brought him home, " that hunger 
 and fear did not drive you home." 
 
 " Fear, grandmama ! " answered the little boy ; " I 
 never saw fear, what is it ? " 
 
 Another time Horatio and his playmates dis- 
 covered some fine pears growing in the school- 
 master's garden. The boys considered the pears 
 were their lawful booty, but none of them dared to 
 climb the rather slender tree to pick them. When 
 Horatio saw that they all hesitated, he said at once 
 that he would get the pears. That night he was 
 lowered from his bedroom window in some sheets 
 until he could reach the pears, and when he had 
 gathered them all, he was drawn slowly up again. 
 When he had crawled in the window, he passed the 
 pears around among the boys, keeping none for him- 
 self. "I don't want any," he said scornfully; "I took 
 them only because all you other boys were afraid." 
 
 Perhaps some of the stories of boyhood pranks 
 had reached his uncle's ears, for he granted Horatio's 
 request and Nelson went to sea. 
 
208 
 
 He was a very lonely, small boy during those first 
 few weeks on the ship, and the work was very hard. 
 Sometimes the voyage took him into the far North, 
 where the ship lay caught among great cakes of 
 floating ice. Sometimes he went far South, out to 
 the East Indies, where he caught the fever and lay 
 for weeks wasting away. " In those days," he after- 
 wards wrote, " I was so weak and homesick that I 
 begged my companions to toss me overboard. 
 Then suddenly a love of England sprang up within 
 me. England, my own England ! I longed to do 
 something great for her. ' I will be a hero, and 
 brave every danger,' I cried." 
 
 The four great bronze reliefs on Nelson's monu- 
 ment show how he made good his word. 
 
 With this resolve firmly in mind, Nelson grad- 
 ually worked his way up until he became rear admiral 
 in the British navy, ready to meet any enemy of his 
 country. These were days when England had her 
 foes and needed brave hearts to keep her courage 
 high. On the western side of Nelson's statue the 
 relief shows how he met and conquered the Spanish 
 fleet off St. Vincent. 
 
 Facing the north is a scene from the great battle 
 of the Nile. It is a picture on the lower deck amid 
 the wounded while the battle is still raging above. 
 Into this scene of suffering and death suddenly an- 
 
209 
 
 other man is brought and laid gently on the deck. 
 A surgeon, binding the wounds of a poor midship- 
 man, glances up and sees that the pale face is 
 that of Admiral Nelson. He drops his bandage to 
 rush forward and attend to Nelson. But the almost 
 unconscious man raises his hand to stop him. 
 " No," he whispers, " I will take my turn with my 
 brave fellows." Nor would he let his own wounds 
 be touched until every man who had been wounded 
 before him had been attended. He thought as he lay 
 there, that this was his last battle. But he was to 
 live to see this victory and others. This was victory 
 over the French. Napoleon, that great French gen- 
 eral, was conquering, conquering, conquering every- 
 where he led his army. A vision of all Europe 
 lying at his feet stretched ever before his eyes. 
 This winter of 1798 he had gone to Egypt, thinking 
 by subduing this land he could go on to India. 
 He had gone by land with a great force. The 
 French fleet was following, when Nelson met them 
 and completely destroyed their forces. 
 
 He was now the great English hero of the day. 
 When he sailed into Yarmouth harbor, every ship 
 lying there hoisted her colors. In London he was 
 feasted by the city, and a great golden sword, studded 
 with sparkling diamonds, was presented to him. 
 Odes and beautiful presents poured in upon him. 
 
 LIT. STO. OF ENG. 14 
 
210 
 
 If we walk around the monument now to the 
 east, we find a relief of Nelson, seated upon a can- 
 non, concluding a peace with the Danes. In that 
 awful battle of Copenhagen, he taught the Scandi- 
 navians that England was supreme upon the seas. 
 But the lesson cost England a terrible price. Hun- 
 dreds of precious lives were lost in a day ; her ships 
 were badly damaged ; her treasury was drained low 
 and her debts were enormous. She needed peace 
 with Europe. This peace was broken five years 
 later by Napoleon. " The Channel is but a ditch," 
 he cried one day ; " any one can cross who has but 
 the courage to try." He could not longer keep his 
 eyes off those wonderful English isles that through 
 the centuries had defied France. He longed once 
 and for all to bring them under the French power. 
 
 Not since the days when the great Armada came 
 sailing up the Channel in the form of a gigantic 
 half moon, had England been threatened by so 
 great a danger. But there was one man whom the 
 French dreaded ; one man whom the English 
 trusted to save them. This man was Horatio 
 Nelson. Napoleon's plan was to lead Nelson's 
 squadron to the West Indies and engage him in 
 battle there, with the hope of cutting him off from re- 
 turning. Then he would be ready with his troops on 
 the coast of France to sail over and attack England. 
 
21 I 
 
 But Nelson was not so easily outwitted. He re- 
 crossed the Atlantic in advance of the French ships, 
 and met them at Trafalgar. The two great fleets 
 drew up for battle. All was ready, awaiting the 
 signal. Nelson stood at his post; all eyes were 
 turned upon him. He paused an instant. Through 
 the stillness his voice came clear and confident, 
 " England expects every man to do his duty." 
 
 The bronze relief on the southern side of the 
 monument in Trafalgar Square pictures for us the 
 scene of the battle of Trafalgar. Through the aw- 
 ful firing of that battle came one ball that struck 
 Nelson, and he fell on his face on the deck. It was 
 in the heat of action. Which way victory would 
 turn no man knew. " Cover my face," murmured 
 Nelson, as they bore him below, " so that my men 
 need not know that I have fallen." He felt that he 
 was dying. " You can do nothing for me," he said 
 to the surgeon. In most intense pain, his lips 
 parched with fever, he lay waiting, hoping, praying 
 that he should not die until Captain Hardy came to 
 tell him that England had won the day. Long mo- 
 ments passed into an hour and more before Hardy 
 came. He took the commander's hand, and, his 
 voice trembling with emotion, told him that he had 
 won a complete victory. 
 
 " Kiss me, Hardy," said the dying hero. 
 
212 
 
 Hardy knelt down on the deck, and kissed the 
 bloodless cheek. 
 
 " Now I am satisfied," he groaned, turning his 
 face away. " Thank God, I have done my duty." 
 
 :>XK< 
 
 WELLINGTON, THE IRON DUKE 
 
 In the year 1769 there were born into the world 
 two boys who were destined forty-five years later to 
 meet on one of the greatest battlefields of history. 
 One of these boys was Napoleon Bonaparte, who 
 was to be the greatest general who ever led a French 
 army. The other was Arthur Wellesley, who was 
 to stand at the head of the forces who were at length 
 to defeat Napoleon. The field where this great 
 battle was to be fought was Waterloo. 
 
 Both boys were fighters even in their school days; 
 both went to military schools, and both spent their 
 lives in the army. Year by year Napoleon climbed 
 the steps of his ambition, until he stood in the great 
 cathedral of Notre Dame, crowned Emperor of 
 France. But even now his dreams had not all been 
 realized. He sat hour after hour with the great 
 map of Europe unrolled upon his desk. 
 
 The country of France seemed small indeed for 
 an empire. Caesar had started from Rome, and 
 
213 
 
 had conquered all Gaul. Why should the river 
 Rhine divide two countries, France and Germany? 
 
 Why should the 
 Pyrenees stand as an 
 insurmountable wall 
 separating France and 
 Spain ? Why should 
 the North Sea cut off 
 the British Isles from 
 the coast of France? 
 He would cross the 
 river, he would cross 
 the mountains, he 
 would cross the sea ; 
 and, with his army at 
 
 his back, he tOO WOuld Napoleon. 
 
 conquer an empire that was worthy of the name. 
 Once more Europe, all Gaul, should be ruled by one 
 man. 
 
 This was the dream that burned in Napoleon's 
 heart. Men looked into his eyes and saw it there. 
 They, too, caught fire. Because he believed that 
 he could make this dream real, they too believed. 
 They came by hundreds and thousands, offering 
 their lives to help him. Never was there an 
 army which marched forward with such enthu- 
 siasm. Never was there an army which so adored 
 
214 
 
 its general. Country after country lay conquered 
 at his feet. One country alone stood apart, uncon- 
 quered and defiant. One navy still rode proudly 
 upon the seas. Those British Isles, lying almost 
 within sight of France, hung like a ripe fruit just 
 beyond Napoleon's reach. He was never quite 
 able to take his eyes from them. Even when 
 Nelson scattered his fleet off Trafalgar, he did not 
 give up hope. If he could not conquer England 
 upon the water, he would conquer her upon the land. 
 
 If Napoleon struck courage in the hearts of the 
 men who marched beneath his banners, he struck 
 fear in the hearts of those against whom his banners 
 were unfurled. Even England quailed. But there 
 were gallant men at England's head : Nelson in the 
 navy, and Arthur Wellesley, who had been made 
 Duke of Wellington, leading the army. 
 
 Like Nelson, Wellington's fighting was done out- 
 side of England. He first met the French, not on 
 English or French soil, but in Spain. Spain and 
 Portugal had both fallen into Napoleon's power, but 
 their old spirit of independence was not conquered. 
 At the first opportunity they revolted against their 
 overlord, and called in England to help them. Wel- 
 lington landed in Spain, and with a force of two 
 thousand men won three great battles. Napoleon's 
 dream was not to come true. Slowly the European 
 
215 
 
 states struggled to their feet, rallied, and with a 
 great united effort forced the French army back, 
 back, into Paris, and demanded that Napoleon 
 should give up his throne. Disgraced and con- 
 quered, the great general was sent to the island of 
 Elba in the Mediterranean, and Europe, worn and 
 shattered, gathered her strength to build up again 
 the boundary lines that should mark out the extent 
 of the separate countries. 
 
 In the midst of the quarreling and disputing that 
 took place among the different nations, suddenly a 
 message was brought across the land that bound the 
 states of Europe together as closely as if they had 
 been yoked with iron chains. " Napoleon has landed 
 in Europe." This was the message. The congress 
 of the nations was being held at Vienna. The 
 Duke of Wellington was there, representing Eng- 
 land. When he heard the message he showed no 
 sign of astonishment or of fear. He calmly turned 
 to his desk, and began drawing up a line of action. 
 The other states soon saw that he was their natural 
 leader. It was his plan to start at once for the 
 Netherlands, where there were stationed some Brit- 
 ish troops, and to place himself at their head. The 
 Prussian army, with Bliicher in command, promised 
 to stand with him. Napoleon at once saw the dan- 
 ger that awaited him. He decided to move forward 
 
2l6 
 
 rapidly, and, if possible, attack Bliicher first and an- 
 nihilate his forces before Wellington could send 
 him aid. He would then meet the English general. 
 
 On the 15th of June, word was brought to Wel- 
 lington in Brussels that the Prussians had been 
 attacked. That night a ball had been arranged at 
 the house of the Duchess of Richmond. Welling- 
 ton called his officers, told them that the French 
 were approaching, but bade them attend the ball 
 just the same, keeping the news absolutely to them- 
 selves. In the midst of the dancing and feasting 
 that night, no one was gayer or calmer than Wel- 
 lington. One by one he saw his officers slip away, 
 and outside in the street he heard the tread of 
 marching feet. It was late before he bade the 
 duchess good-night. Just before he went he 
 turned to the Duke of Richmond, and said in 
 a low voice: " Have you a good map of the coun- 
 try in your house ? " 
 
 The duke nodded, and the two went up to a 
 bedroom and unrolled it. " Bonaparte has gained 
 a day's march on me," said Wellington in his calm, 
 low voice. " I have arranged to meet him at Quatre 
 Bras. If I am not able to stop him there, I will 
 meet him here," and he made a mark on the map 
 with his thumb nail, at Waterloo. The duke 
 passed out of the brilliantly lighted house into 
 
217 
 
 the dark streets of the city. He was going to 
 meet Napoleon for the first and the last time. 
 The battlefield was to be at Waterloo. 
 
 It was a desperate struggle, — a terrible battle. 
 Wellington never dismounted from his saddle all 
 day. The tide of fortune ebbed and flowed. When 
 it looked darkest for the English, suddenly the Prus- 
 sian troops arrived, weary almost unto death with 
 their long march. Their arrival decided the day. 
 " All is lost," cried Napoleon, as he fled back through 
 the cover of night to Paris. 
 
 The duke entered his tent about ten o'clock. 
 Before him was spread his dinner, and he sat down 
 and ate it silently. In the midst of the glow of vic- 
 tory, his eyes were filled with visions of the brave 
 men who had fallen on the field, and his heart 
 ached with the sad news that must be sent to many 
 English homes on the morrow. 
 
 This day, the 18th of June, 1815, was the crisis 
 in the life of both these men, who had been born 
 into the world in the same year. Napoleon gave 
 himself up a prisoner to the English, and was taken 
 to a solitary isle, St. Helena, far out at sea, where 
 he spent the rest of his life in miserable solitude 
 and idleness. Wellington returned to England, hon- 
 ored and esteemed by all, and ready to serve his 
 country as nobly in peace as he had done in war. 
 
218 
 
 GEORGE III 
 
 George III was the first of the kings who bore 
 his name who was an Englishman. When he met 
 Parliament, on coming to the throne, his opening 
 words were, " Born and educated in this country, I 
 glory in the name of Briton ; and the peculiar hap- 
 piness of my life will ever consist in promoting the 
 welfare of a people, whose loyalty and warm affec- 
 tion to me I consider as the greatest and most per- 
 manent security of my throne." When the people 
 heard these words, they felt that England once more 
 had an English king. 
 
 George III was rather shy and timid in public, 
 but he knew how to make a speech, for he had been 
 well trained as a boy. The famous London actor 
 Quin used to come over to the royal palace, and 
 teach Prince George and his brothers and sisters 
 how to declaim, and sometimes he permitted them 
 to give plays in the palace, before audiences of 
 court ladies and lords. When the old actor heard 
 how well George III delivered his speech from the 
 throne, he cried out delightedly, " Aye, 'twas I that 
 taught the boy to speak." 
 
 Not only were the English proud to have a Briton 
 on the throne, but they were proud of George as a 
 man. He was very kind and good, and seldom has 
 
2TQ 
 
 a royal family been happier. George III selected a 
 German princess, Charlotte of Strelitz, for his bride. 
 The royal ambas- 
 sador was sent 
 over to bring the 
 princess to Eng- 
 land, and a whole 
 squadron of ships 
 lay waiting in the 
 Channel to accom- 
 pany her to her 
 new home. The 
 bride landed in 
 England on a 
 Sunday evening. 
 Traveling was a 
 slow process in 
 
 those days, and King George III. 
 
 the princess took two days to go up to London. 
 She spent the night at Lord Abercorn's, where 
 she was given a great banquet, and while she ate, 
 the doors were left wide open, that all who could 
 might catch a glimpse of their new queen. " Her 
 Majesty," so an old writer tells us, " was dressed 
 entirely in English taste ; she wore a fly cap with 
 laced lappets, a stomacher ornamented with dia- 
 monds, and a gold brocaded suit of clothes with a 
 
 
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 is 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 ^^H 
 
 mim 
 
 I 
 
 
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220 
 
 white ground." The next morning she set out for 
 London. Three royal coaches drove in advance of 
 her, and as she neared the city, a body of horse 
 grenadiers and life guards closed in about her 
 to welcome and escort her to St. James. At 
 the entrance to the garden her Majesty alighted 
 and fell on her knees before the king. Very gra- 
 ciously George III raised her up, and embracing 
 her affectionately, led her into the great palace, 
 while London thundered its welcome with all the 
 guns of the city. They were married in great state 
 that same evening in the royal chapel. 
 
 The new queen's first task was to learn English, 
 for she knew no word of her husband's tongue when 
 she first came to England. Every morning she 
 worked hard with an instructor, learning to read, 
 write, and spell the new language. Sometimes the 
 king came in and laughed with her over her queer 
 pronunciation, and helped her in writing her themes. 
 When the English lessons were over, the queen 
 spent an hour embroidering, then after lunch she 
 and the king went out to drive or to walk in the 
 gardens until it was time to dress for dinner. By 
 and by many little princes and princesses were born 
 into this happy home, Alfred, Octavius and many 
 others, all of whom received a royal welcome from 
 England. They were brought up very simply and 
 
221 
 
 plainly, much like ordinary English children. In 
 fact, George III was a very sensible and kind-hearted 
 father and king. There is a story about him that 
 reminds one of the story told about the great Alfred. 
 One day the king was out on a hunt near Windsor, 
 and became separated from the rest of the party. 
 A storm came up, and the king sought shelter in a 
 cottage near at hand. He knocked, and asked the 
 young girl who came to the door to put his horse 
 under the shed. The girl, not recognizing the royal 
 guest, replied that she would do so if he in turn would 
 mind the goose which was roasting before the fire. 
 The king, much amused, consented, and sat down 
 to dry his wet clothes and turn the spit. The fire 
 was very hot, and the king was red in the face before 
 the girl returned. He did not complain, however, 
 but chatted pleasantly with her while the shower 
 continued, telling her that in wealthy families it 
 was no longer necessary to turn a goose by hand, 
 because a jack had been invented which turned 
 automatically. As soon as it cleared his majesty rode 
 off with many thanks for the hospitality shown him. 
 That evening the peasant girl discovered five 
 guineas wrapped in a paper on the chimney piece. 
 She unrolled the paper, and read these words, " To 
 buy a jack." 
 
 George III had two great faults. He was very 
 
222 
 
 narrow-minded and very stubborn. For many years 
 England had been involved in European wars, and 
 it was necessary to tax the people very heavily in 
 order to pay the national debt. Not only was 
 England burdened with these taxes, but Parliament 
 decided to impose them upon the American colonies 
 which were under British rule. The American 
 colonies were loyal to their "mother country.' , 
 They were willing to help pay the debt, but they 
 said if they were to share these taxes they must be 
 allowed to send some members to the English 
 Parliament to represent their interests. Parliament 
 and the king refused this demand, although the 
 great statesman, Pitt, used all his eloquence to show 
 the injustice in doing so. Suddenly George III 
 found himself involved in a great war, the American 
 Revolution, which, was to separate forever England 
 and the American colonies. Out of this war was 
 born the United States of America. 
 
 John Quincy Adams was the first United States 
 minister sent to England. He was ushered into 
 the presence of his Majesty and the Secretary of 
 State alone. Adams made three deep bows, as 
 was the custom, one at the door, one about halfway, 
 and the third directly before the king. He then 
 lifted his head, and spoke very calmly, but with great 
 dignity. He came, he said, as the representative of 
 
223 
 
 his people, to bring from the United States a pledge 
 of friendship to his Majesty and his Majesty's 
 citizens, and to present the best wishes of the 
 United States for the health and happiness of the 
 royal family. He then added that he should esteem 
 himself the happiest of all men if he could bring 
 about the old spirit of "good nature and good 
 humor " between these two peoples who, though 
 separated by an ocean, were bound together by the 
 same language, the same religion, and kindred 
 blood. 
 
 The king listened very attentively to Adams's 
 noble words, and responded with much feeling. " I 
 wish you, sir, to believe," he said, " and that it may 
 be understood in America, that I have done nothing 
 in the late contest but what I thought myself 
 indispensably bound to do, by the duty which I 
 owed to my people. I will be very frank with you. 
 I was the last to conform to the separation ; but the 
 separation having been made, and having become 
 inevitable, I have always said, as I say now, that I 
 would be the first to meet the friendship of the 
 United States as an independent power." 
 
 Adams then retired backward, as was customary, 
 from his Majesty's presence, and went his way. 
 
224 
 
 CHARLES DICKENS 
 
 He was a very queer small boy, who lived in 
 Chatham by the sea in a little whitewashed house. 
 He was sickly, and so small of his age that when 
 the other boys of the village played cricket or mar- 
 bles, he always had to stand by and watch. Or else 
 he crept off to his own room, and, seated on the bed, 
 bent over the " Arabian Nights " or " Robinson 
 Crusoe " until the darkness came in through the 
 tiny windows and covered over the letters on the 
 page. He had learned these letters at his mother's 
 knee when he was a very, very small boy, and later 
 he had gone to school with his older sister Fanny ; 
 but he learned more out of the few books that he 
 discovered one day upstairs in his own house, and 
 the people in these books were more real to him 
 than the children who sat beside him in school. 
 By and by he tried to write a book himself, and 
 became quite the hero among the boys and girls of 
 Chatham by writing a play about the Sultan of 
 India. He could sing funny little songs, and tell 
 stories, too, better than the other children ; and often 
 when there was company his father stood him on 
 the table and had him recite in his shrill little voice. 
 Altogether he was a very happy boy in Chatham. 
 The fields in spring were bright with hawthorn bios- 
 
soms. The village square was weekly filled with 
 regiments of gayly uniformed soldiers who per- 
 formed wonderful drills. The great cathedral and 
 castle were as marvelous and beautiful as the palace 
 of Aladdin to this little boy. And then there were 
 always the ships, white-sailed or black-smoking 
 ships, going down the widening river to the sea. 
 Dearest of all to the queer little boy, however, was 
 a great house near Chatham called Gads Hill Place, 
 standing high above the turnpike. It was the great- 
 est treat in the world for this little nine-year-old boy 
 to be brought out to look at this house, and one 
 day his father, seeing how much he liked the great 
 house, said to him, " If you were to be very per- 
 severing and were to work hard, you might some 
 day come to live in it." And the strange part of 
 this story is that what his father said came true. 
 
 Soon after this the family moved to London. 
 The small boy was put inside of a big, lumbering 
 stage coach and sent down to the city alone. He 
 never forgot that lonesome journey : the smell of the 
 damp straw in the bottom of the coach, the sand- 
 wiches that he ate all by himself, and the heavy rain 
 beating against the rattling windows. All the 
 beautiful world seemed to be left behind for an ugly 
 little tenement in one of the poorest parts of Lon- 
 don. There was no more school, although the little 
 
 LIT. STO. OF ENG. — IS 
 
226 
 
 boy was more eager than ever to learn. The only 
 treasure that came with him from Chatham was 
 
 " The small boy was put inside of a big, lumbering stage coach." 
 
 the pile of old books. He spent his day blacking 
 his father's boots and running errands back and 
 forth through the dark and dirty streets, where he 
 could scarcely catch a glimpse of the sun or the 
 sky. 
 
 Life grew more and more wretched. The money 
 became more and more scarce, until there was not 
 enough to pay even for bread and meat. One day 
 an officer came to the tenement, and carried the 
 father away to the debtor's prison. The little boy 
 could not understand it ; but that night he went 
 with swollen eyes to visit his father. There was a 
 
227 
 
 scant fire burning feebly in the grate, and the father 
 sat down beside it with his little son, and they both 
 wept. Then he told the boy to remember this : 
 that if a man has twenty pounds a year and spends 
 nineteen pounds, nineteen shillings, and sixpence, he 
 will be happy, but if he spends twenty pounds and 
 one shilling more, he will be wretched. 
 
 This wretchedness the little boy was soon to 
 know. His father had to stay in prison; the pawn- 
 broker came and carried away all the furniture and 
 all the books ; and the little boy himself was sent to 
 a factory, where he worked all day long pasting blue 
 labels on boxes of blacking paste. He was so un- 
 happy during these two years of his life that he 
 could never recall them without tears coming into 
 his eyes. Perhaps what hurt him more than the 
 hard, monotonous work in the factory and the poor 
 pay, was the fact that he could not go to school and 
 learn like other boys. Still these days were school 
 days. He was not learning from books, but he was 
 watching men and women in real life. Probably 
 he himself did not know then how carefully he was 
 using his eyes. He was filling his mind full of pic- 
 tures of queer and interesting people, and the funny 
 things that these people said to each other, and the 
 amusing things that they did. And the queer little 
 boy's name, Charles Dickens, was to be known all 
 
228 
 
 through England, because he made these same 
 people live again in his stories and novels. 
 
 Dickens was a 
 reporter first for a 
 newspaper. Then 
 one day he sent an 
 article to a maga- 
 zine, and signed it 
 " Boz," a nickname 
 that he had given 
 one of his younger 
 brothers. It was 
 accepted, and nine 
 others followed it. 
 Then came the 
 famous " Pickwick 
 Papers," and after 
 that the many 
 other stories, " Old 
 Curiosity Shop," 
 " Oliver Twist," and " David Copperfield," which is 
 really a story of Dickens's own life, and tells many 
 stories about "the queer small boy." 
 
 Dickens's fame was not only in England, but 
 reached also to America. Although the voyage 
 was long and rough in those days, Dickens crossed 
 the ocean twice to visit our country. Wherever he 
 
229 
 
 went crowds came to see him. Sometimes the train 
 on which he was traveling was obliged to stop ex- 
 pressly at some small town where great crowds had 
 gathered just to catch a sight of his face. In the 
 street cars many a man and woman stepped up to 
 him, and begged just to shake hands with him. A 
 big dinner was given him in New York, where 
 Washington Irving presided and gave the toast 
 " To Charles Dickens, the Guest of the Nation." 
 It was on this trip, too, that he met Longfellow, who 
 afterwards visited Dickens in England. 
 
 As long as he lived, Dickens was a very busy 
 man. Novel after novel came from his pen, and 
 each story was read more eagerly than the last. 
 Perhaps it was when he was writing " David Copper- 
 field" that he remembered the great house of Gads 
 Hill Place, and the old boyish longing to own it 
 came back to him. In order to buy it he gave 
 public readings from his own works all over Eng- 
 land and in America. 
 
 The sickly little boy never grew into a strong 
 man. Public life was hard for him. In a letter to 
 a friend he tells how happy he was to leave London 
 and retire to Gads Hill. 
 
 " Birds sing here all day," he writes, " and the 
 nightingales all night. The place is lovely. ... I 
 have put five mirrors in the Swiss Chalet where I 
 
230 
 
 write, and they reflect and refract in all kinds of 
 ways the leaves that are quivering at the windows, 
 
 Gads Hill Place. 
 
 and the great fields of waving corn, and the sail- 
 dotted river. My room is up amongst the branches 
 of the trees, and the birds and butterflies fly in and 
 out, and the green branches shoot in at the windows, 
 and the lights and shadows of the clouds come and 
 go with the rest of the company. The scent of the 
 flowers, and indeed of everything that is growing for 
 miles and miles, is most delicious." 
 
 He died here in 1870. It was his wish to be 
 buried there quietly in the little old graveyard; but 
 the nation claimed him for hers, and he was laid to 
 rest in Westminster Abbey. For days crowds and 
 
231 
 
 crowds flocked through the great church to pay 
 him homage, and crowds from all nations are still 
 going every year to visit his grave among the great 
 
 writers of English literature. 
 
 >s*t< 
 
 QUEEN VICTORIA 
 
 There are many kingdoms in the world that will 
 never allow a woman to sit upon their throne. But 
 England is very proud of the queens who have ruled 
 over her. Two queens have had such famous reigns 
 that the age in which they lived is named after them 
 — the Age of Elizabeth and the Victorian Era. 
 
 Victoria was not born the daughter of a king, like 
 Elizabeth, but it was known that she was in direct 
 line to the throne. Her mother, the Duchess of 
 Kent, took great pains that Victoria should not 
 know this fact. She did not want her little daughter 
 to be proud because she might some day be queen. 
 Victoria's father died when she was a baby, but her 
 mother took every care that the little girl should be 
 brought up in such a way as to make her a beautiful 
 and wise woman, ready to wear the English crown 
 if it should some day come to her. The little prin- 
 cess's bed stood close beside her mother's, and be- 
 fore she was old enough to sit at the family table at 
 
232 
 
 dinner, she had her own little table near her mother. 
 She wore very simple dresses, and was allowed to 
 spend only her weekly allowance, which was very 
 small indeed. One day Victoria and her governess 
 were visiting a toyshop, where the princess found a 
 doll that she wanted very much. She took out her 
 purse to buy it, but found that she lacked a few 
 shillings. Victoria looked up at her governess very 
 pleadingly, but the governess shook her head. 
 " You will have to wait until you get your next 
 week's allowance," she said. Victoria still held the 
 dolly very longingly in her hands. When the shop- 
 keeper saw how much she wanted it, he promised 
 to save it until the coming Saturday, when Victoria 
 would have her allowance. All through the week 
 Victoria thought of the pretty dolly lying in its box 
 on the top shelf in the shop. Early Saturday morn- 
 ing she was up and dressed, and, mounted on her 
 little gray donkey, she rode gayly down to the shop 
 and brought the new treasure home in her arms. 
 
 Victoria's lessons began when she was very young, 
 and she was made to study much harder and longer 
 lessons than most little girls. Among other studies 
 was Latin, which the princess didn't enjoy at all. 
 Finally it was thought wise to tell her that she was 
 the direct heir to the throne. Her English history 
 was given her, and she was shown a table of the 
 
233 
 
 English kings and queens back from the time of 
 Alfred. Slowly it came to her that if her uncle 
 died, she would be queen. Victoria turned a very 
 sober face up to her governess. " Now I know," 
 she said, " why you urged me so much to learn even 
 Latin, which my aunts Augusta and Mary never 
 did." Then she came a little closer and put her 
 hand in her governess's. " I will be good," she 
 said softly. 
 
 From that day she studied and worked hard to 
 fit herself to be queen. She spent hours reading 
 the history of her own land, and her wise mother 
 took her on long trips throughout the country, that 
 she might know Scotland and England and the 
 people over whom she was some day to rule. 
 
 It was not thought that this day would come so 
 quickly. Victoria had just celebrated her eight- 
 eenth birthday when the king died, about two 
 o'clock one June morning. The Archbishop of 
 Canterbury and the Lord Chamberlain at once set 
 out to announce the news to the young sovereign. 
 They reached Kensington Palace about five o'clock 
 in the early dawn. They knocked and thumped at 
 the gate a long time before they could arouse the 
 sleepy porter. When at last they were let in, they 
 announced that they must see her Royal Highness 
 at once on important business. The answer was 
 
234 
 
 brought back, " The princess is in such sweet slum- 
 ber that we do not venture to disturb her." 
 
 She listened very quietly to the message 
 
 Then the archbishop replied, " We are come to 
 see the Queen on important business of state." 
 
 There was no more delay. Victoria did not wait 
 even to dress herself, but came into the room wrapped 
 in a shawl, her beautiful, bright hair falling down her 
 back, and tears shining in her eyes. She listened 
 very quietly to the message, and then said, softly, 
 " I beg your Grace to pray for me." Then she 
 asked that she might be left alone for two hours, 
 
235 
 
 Her first act was to write a letter to her aunt, telling 
 her of her sympathy in her sorrow. 
 
 That same day at eleven Victoria held her first 
 council. Lord Beaconsfield has written this descrip- 
 tion of the scene : — 
 
 " There are assembled the prelates and captains 
 and chief men of her realm. A hum of half-sup- 
 pressed conversation fills that brilliant assemblage, 
 a sea of plumes and glittering stars, and gorgeous 
 dresses. Hush! The portal opens — she comes. 
 The silence is as deep as that of a noontide forest. 
 Attended for a moment by her royal mother and 
 the ladies of the court, who bow and then retire, 
 Victoria ascends her throne alone and for the first 
 time amid an assembly of men." 
 
 She was crowned in Westminster Abbey. The 
 great church was gorgeously decorated with gold 
 and crimson. " When the queen entered the abbey, 
 with eight ladies all in white floating about her like 
 a silvery cloud, she paused as if for breath and 
 clasped her hands." As she knelt to have the crown 
 placed upon her head, a ray of sunlight fell over her, 
 lighting up her face and making the crown dazzle 
 with brightness. 
 
 But when the festivities were over, the young 
 queen found that long clays of hard work stretched 
 out before her. Victoria was never a figure queen. 
 
236 
 
 She worked with her minister as faithfully as any 
 king, ever studying the many problems that were 
 facing her country. Two years later she married 
 her cousin, Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg, who was 
 given the title of prince consort. He was a man of 
 noble character and great learning, and stood close 
 beside the queen, aiding her in many ways. Nine 
 children were born to them, and many grand- 
 children. Her first grandchild is now the German 
 emperor. "Dear little William," Victoria often 
 called him. 
 
 Victoria reigned for sixty-four years. No other 
 English monarch sat for so long a time upon the 
 throne. Many wonderful events took place during 
 these years. The first railroads were built. The 
 telegraph was put into use. The first cable was 
 laid between England and America, and the queen 
 sent a long message of greeting to President 
 Buchanan. When Victoria ascended the throne, it 
 took four weeks for the news to reach America. 
 When she died, the sad words were flashed around 
 the world in less than half an hour. 
 
 The prince consort died many years before the 
 queen. One of his greatest acts for England was 
 the arranging of the first world's fair. This exhi- 
 bition was almost entirely the prince's own idea. 
 He had built the great glass building outside of 
 
'37 
 
 London, called the Crystal Palace, and invited all the 
 countries of Europe to send exhibits of their best 
 
 The Prince Consort opening the International Exposition. 
 
 and most characteristic industries and arts. This 
 first world's fair was so successful that many other 
 countries since then have adopted the plan of hold- 
 ing such expositions. 
 
 After the prince consort died the queen lived very 
 simply and quietly. But twice the nation gave her a 
 great jubilee ; once when she had reigned for half a 
 century, and then, ten years later, when she had been 
 queen sixty years. On this occasion gifts poured 
 
2 3 8 
 
 into England from all over Europe and Asia, most 
 beautiful and costly gifts for the honored queen. 
 
 Such a long reign had, too, its sad events. There 
 were long and cruel wars. No one regretted this 
 shedding of blood more than Queen Victoria. No 
 one longed more than she that the time should come 
 when the nations of the world should be at peace, 
 and all difficulties should be settled in courts instead 
 of by arms. 
 
 odi*i<><> — 
 
 EDWIN LANDSEER 
 
 Edwin Landseer was born a painter of animals. 
 When he was a little boy, he was always running away 
 from school and his books, but he never ran away 
 from his paint box and palette. His father was a 
 painter before him, and was anxious that his boy 
 should be an artist. He thought if he was going to 
 paint, it was not necessary for him to spend much time 
 learning geography and arithmetic, so he used to take 
 him out into the fields, lift him over the stile, and 
 set him down on the grass to draw sheep. Edwin 
 was so young then that his fingers could scarcely 
 hold a pencil, but he always sketched on and on 
 until it grew dark and his father came to correct his 
 work and take the little artist home. 
 
 As he grew older, wherever animals could be 
 
239 
 
 found, Landseer was there with his pencil and sketch- 
 book. He went often to the Exeter Exchange, 
 where there was a 
 show of wild ani- 
 mals; he spent hours 
 in the Tower of 
 London, where were 
 kept at that time 
 lions, leopards, and 
 bears ; and every 
 summer found him 
 among the Scottish 
 Highlands sketch- 
 ing the wild red deer. 
 From these haunts 
 he hurried back to 
 the Art School of 
 the Royal Academy, 
 
 where he studied most faithfully. He was so fond 
 of painting dogs, and he painted them so well, that 
 his master often spoke of him as "my little dog 
 boy." He never went to walk without half a dozen 
 puppies and dogs about him, and when he painted 
 his own portrait, he put in two great dogs looking 
 over his shoulder. Once on his way North, in the 
 summer, he stopped to see Sir Walter Scott,' who 
 was also fond of dumb companions, and brought 
 
 Sir Edwin Landseer. 
 
240 
 
 away a sketchbook full of drawings of the great 
 writer and his dogs. 
 
 Landseer's pictures were very popular. His ani- 
 mals looked out of the canvas with such human 
 eyes that every one was drawn to them. They 
 were very lifelike, too. One of Landseer's friends, 
 whenever he came into the artist's studio, which 
 was full of pictures of dogs, would cry out: 
 " Keep the dogs off me. I want to come in, and 
 some of them will bite me. That fellow in the 
 corner is growling ferociously." 
 
 In later years Landseer painted some portraits, but 
 they were never so good as his pictures of animals. 
 He was a great favorite of Queen Victoria and the 
 whole royal family. The queen took many lessons 
 of him, and all the pets in the royal household were 
 painted by his brush. Once the queen asked Land- 
 seer to paint a picture of Prince Albert's favorite 
 grayhound for a birthday gift. The dog was to be 
 painted standing near a table on which lay the 
 prince's hat and gloves. While Landseer was 
 painting busily, a messenger came in hot haste. 
 The prince was hunting for his hat and gloves, 
 and the queen was afraid that he might find out 
 where they were, and thus guess her secret. An- 
 other time Landseer dressed up as a groom, and 
 rode out behind the queen that he might make a 
 
241 
 
 study of an equestrian portrait of the queen. As a 
 sign of royal favor he was afterwards knighted by 
 Victoria. 
 
 Landseer was so genial and fond of fun that he 
 made friends everywhere. One evening at a party 
 a young lady happened to say that, however skillful 
 any one was, it would be impossible to draw with 
 both hands at once. " Oh, I can do that," said the 
 artist. " Give me two pencils, and I will show 
 you." 
 
 He took a pencil in either hand, and without a 
 moment's hesitation, drew at the same time a stag's 
 head with his right hand, and a horse's head with 
 the other. 
 
 Sir Edwin Landseer lived to be over seventy 
 years old, and he painted animals all his life, up to 
 the day of his death. Oftentimes he liked to paint 
 a story of animals, such as Robert Burns's "Twa 
 Dogs." In this story two dogs met together on a 
 bonny day in June. The one, called Caesar, was a 
 dog kept for his master's pleasure. He was not 
 one of Scotland's dogs, but came from 
 
 " some place far abroad, 
 Where sailors gang to fish for cod." 
 
 He wore a brass collar, and looked like a gentle- 
 man. The other was a plowman's collie, with a 
 white breast and a coat of glossy black. These 
 
 LIT. STO. OF ENG. — 1 6 
 
242 
 
 " twa dogs " met together to talk over life. The 
 Newfoundland could not understand how any man 
 could be happy unless he had his coach and four, 
 and a hundred men at his call, like his own master. 
 And yet the collie was sure that his honest master 
 
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 The Old Shepherd's Chief Mourner. 
 
 was well content in his humble cottage. So they 
 
 passed the afternoon, until the sun was out of 
 
 sight, 
 
 "When up they gat, and shook their lugs, 
 Rejoiced they were na men but dogs; 
 And each took aff his several way, 
 Resolved to meet some ither day." 
 
243 
 
 When Landseer died, he was buried with great 
 honor in St. Paul's Cathedral at London. On the 
 marble slab which marks his grave is a medallion 
 portrait of the painter, and beneath it in relief is 
 modeled a copy of his own painting " The old 
 Shepherd's Chief Mourner." This is one of Land- 
 seer's greatest pictures. Inside of a dreary hut 
 stands the rude coffin in which lies the shepherd. 
 His hat and staff have fallen on the floor, his plaid 
 that has sheltered him from the winter's blast lies 
 across the coffin, and close beside it watches his 
 most faithful friend, his dog, silently mourning for 
 his dead master. 
 
 »o><*oo — 
 
 ALFRED LORD TENNYSON 
 
 In the quiet little village of Somersby, which lies 
 upon a hillslope, stands a small sandstone church, and 
 near it a low white rectory. In the days when 
 George III was king of England, a family of twelve 
 children lived in this rectory and played games of 
 knights and tournaments in the gardens and woods 
 about it. The leader in these games was Alfred, for 
 he could always make up the most exciting adven- 
 tures. He could tell the best stories, too, and he made 
 his little brothers' and sisters' blood run cold by 
 gathering them about him in the evening and telling 
 
244 
 
 them stories of gigantic mountains where great drag- 
 ons lived who came forth at night to slay beautiful 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 damsels. But he never told them cruel stories, for 
 Alfred's heart was very kind and gentle. He could 
 not bear to see any one or anything suffer. It hurt 
 him so to see a rabbit caught in a trap that he went 
 around the neighborhood springing all the traps that 
 the gamekeepers had set. " If we once catch that 
 young gentleman, we will chuck him in the pond," 
 the gamekeepers muttered ; but they never caught 
 him. 
 
245 
 
 Alfred had one strange pet of his own. One night, 
 as he was sitting by the window of his own little 
 attic room, a young owl called just outside. He 
 answered the call, and the little bird flew in to him. 
 He sat very still and called softly. The owl hopped 
 nearer and nearer, and at last nestled close to him 
 and ate out of his hand. He grew very tame, and 
 forsook the other owls for the twelve Tennyson chil- 
 dren. Everybody in the house was very fond of him, 
 except the monkey that belonged to Alfred's grand- 
 mother. He used to be very jealous because the 
 owl liked to come and perch on the old lady's 
 head. 
 
 When Alfred was seven years old, he was asked, 
 " Would you rather go to school or to sea ?" To the 
 boy school meant books, so he quickly chose the 
 former. But school in those days in England was a 
 very unhappy place for boys. The lessons were long 
 and dry. The masters were very strict, and fond of 
 using the rod if the boys made mistakes or did not 
 learn their lessons. And the big boys bullied the 
 little ones and the new ones. From the very begin- 
 ning Alfred hated the little school at Louth where he 
 and his brother Charles were sent. Still he had some 
 happy times there. It was about this age that he 
 began writing the verses that he was always making 
 up in his head. Finally he and Charles took their 
 
246 
 
 verses to a little bookseller in the town. He read 
 them through, and offered to buy them for one hun- 
 dred dollars. Half of this sum had to be taken out 
 
 
 *£&V 
 
 Tennyson's Birthplace. 
 
 in books from the store. We do not know what the 
 two youthful writers did with the other half, except 
 that they hired a carriage one afternoon and drove 
 fourteen miles over the low hills and marshy flats 
 to Mablethorpe, where they could see the ocean. 
 Here on the seashore they "shared their triumph 
 with the winds and w 7 aves." 
 
 Tennyson finished his schooling at the University, 
 of Cambridge. Here, too, he found much that was 
 dull and uninteresting. But it was here that he met 
 Arthur Hallam, another student. Arthur Hallam's 
 fine mind and gentle ways charmed the young poet. 
 
247 
 
 They walked, studied, and read together. On vaca- 
 tions Tennyson brought his friend home to the old 
 rectory at Somersby. His early death was Tenny- 
 son's first and greatest sorrow. Hallam went to Eu- 
 rope for his health, and died on the way home. 
 Tennyson's grief was so intense that he thought for 
 a while that he could never take up his pen again. 
 But his very sadness of heart turned him to writing, 
 and in a long and beautiful poem called " In Memo- 
 riam," he has told the world of the wonderful meaning 
 of a true and noble friendship. 1 
 
 This great sorrow made Tennyson's heart very 
 tender to others who were sad. None of his verses 
 are more beautiful than the lines which he wrote to 
 Queen Victoria when the Prince Consort died. He 
 was the Poet Laureate then, the great national poet. 
 All England was longing to speak some word of 
 comfort to their beloved queen. This great flood 
 of sympathy was taken up by the poet and put into 
 most tender, beautiful words. Tennyson was just 
 ready to publish his poems about King Arthur and 
 his Knights of the Table Round. He put them all 
 together, and, calling them " Idylls of the King," 
 dedicated them to the Prince Consort, who, as he 
 writes : — 
 
 1 When the Prince Consort died and Tennyson went to see the queen, 
 she said to him, " Next to the Bible, i In Memoriam ' is my comfort. 11 
 
248 
 
 " seems to me 
 Scarce other than my own ideal knight, 
 'who reverenced his conscience as his king.' " 
 
 Then he bids the queen's heart not to break, but 
 live on, and closes with the words : — 
 
 " May all love, 
 His love unseen, but felt, o'ershadow thee, 
 The love of all thy sons encompass thee, 
 The love of all thy daughters cherish thee, 
 Till God's love set thee at his side again." 
 
 So these old legends of Lancelot and the fair 
 Elaine, and Sir Galahad, the knight in white armor, 
 of whom King Arthur said as he dubbed him 
 knight, " God make thee good as thou art beautiful," 
 were brought out of the dim past of ancient Britain, 
 and given to the world in such beautiful poetry that 
 they will live forever. 
 
 The last years of Tennyson's life were all spent 
 in writing more and more poetry. He had many 
 friends, the great statesman, Gladstone, Browning, 
 Carlyle, and a host of others, yet he loved to live a 
 little apart from the world. When he found that 
 his last hour was come, he asked his son to bring 
 him his Shakespeare, and he held the treasured 
 volume close to his heart until he died. The full 
 moon came in through the open windows and fell 
 across the beautiful face and hands of the dead poet. 
 
249 
 
 To his son, standing beside the bed, it seemed like 
 the passing of Arthur. 
 
 It was his wish that he be buried simply. So he 
 was borne away from the beautiful home on a little 
 wagonette which was covered with moss and bright 
 with scarlet cardinal flowers. Around him was 
 wrapped the pall which the working men and 
 women of the North had woven and the cottagers 
 of Keswick had embroidered. And over all were 
 banked the wreaths and crosses of flowers that came 
 from all parts of Great Britain. The old coachman, 
 who had been for thirty years Lord Tennyson's 
 faithful servant, led the horse across the moor just 
 at sunset. In the rear followed quietly the villagers 
 and school children. The queen wished her great 
 man to lie in Westminster Abbey in the Poets' 
 Corner, so he was brought thither, and placed beside 
 Robert Browning and close to the monument 
 erected to the first English poet, Geoffrey Chaucer. 
 
 >x*;< 
 
 EDWARD VII 
 
 On the afternoon of January 23, 1901, the Mall, the 
 great street in London, was thronged with people. 
 It was a quiet crowd, for there was sadness in every 
 heart, and yet here and there a smile broke over the 
 
250 
 
 faces of the bystanders, as a gayly clad officer hurried 
 down the street and entered the Palace of St. James. 
 At about five minutes to two the heavy gates of Marl- 
 bo rough House 
 " swung open. There 
 was the sound of 
 horses' hoofs on the 
 hard road, and the 
 crowd pressed 
 eagerly forward. 
 In advance rode 
 the King's Guard 
 in full dress, and 
 following them the 
 escort. For a mo- 
 ment the sun broke 
 through the low, 
 gray clouds, light- 
 ing up their shining 
 helmets and flash- 
 ing on their drawn 
 swords. But the people heeded them little. Their 
 eyes were fixed on the coach just behind, and the 
 grave face of the man who was looking out through 
 the windows at them with kindly eyes. A great cheer 
 went up as the coach rolled out into the highway, 
 a cheer of sympathy and of loyalty from the people 
 
 King Edward VII. 
 
251 
 
 for their new king. The coach drove at a trot 
 down the Mall to St. James Palace, and then, as the 
 clock struck two, the king first met his Council. 
 
 He stood before them, a man of sixty, and spoke 
 to them briefly, but with great sincerity and dignity. 
 He told them that it was his first duty to announce 
 to' them the death of his beloved mother, the queen, 
 in which loss he believed he had not only their sym- 
 pathy, but that of the entire world. Then he told 
 them that he should endeavor to follow 7 in her foot- 
 steps, and, as long as there was breath in his body, 
 to work for the good of his people. 
 
 His name was Albert Edward, but he now an- 
 nounced that he would be known by the name 
 which six of his ancestors had borne. The name of 
 Albert, which he had inherited from his father, 
 should remain sacred to his memory. He wanted 
 England to remember only one Albert, " Albert the 
 Good." He then took the oath of king as Edward 
 VII, and under this title he was crowned with 
 great pomp and ceremony in Westminster Abbey. 
 
 Edward VII had been born direct heir to the Eng- 
 lish throne, and all his life he had been trained to be a 
 king. He had studied much from books, but he had 
 learned more from traveling and visiting all parts of 
 the world. His wise father sent him first, as a small 
 boy, through England and Scotland. Then followed 
 
252 
 
 a trip to Ireland, and later many visits to all parts of 
 Europe. When he was a boy his father made him 
 
 send back home 
 long descriptions of 
 the land through 
 which he was trav- 
 eling, and give his 
 ideas about the 
 people and their 
 different ways of 
 living. After he 
 became of age the 
 Prince of Wales 
 even crossed the 
 Atlantic to visit 
 Canada and the 
 United States, and 
 later he went far 
 to the East, to the 
 Holy Land, even 
 
 Edward VII at the Age of Seven. 
 
 as some of his noble ancestors had done. 
 
 The Prince of W r ales chose a beautiful and lovely 
 princess for his bride, Alexandra the Princess Royal 
 of Denmark. She was deeply beloved at home, and 
 when she left her native land to become the Princess 
 of Wales, all along her route she was showered with 
 flowers, and crowds of people gathered all along the 
 
253 
 
 way to wave farewell to her. But as royal a wel- 
 come awaited her in England. Every ship and 
 boat, even the small- 
 est fishing vessel, 
 along the English 
 coast flew its colors 
 when the barge 
 bearing the prin- 
 cess arrived. The 
 stations, the streets, 
 and the houses 
 were hung with 
 banners and great 
 wreaths of flowers. 
 And cheer followed 
 cheer as if the 
 shouting would 
 never cease. The 
 English people, as 
 they looked into 
 her beautiful face, 
 were charmed by her loveliness and noble air. They 
 were afterwards to learn that she was as kind and 
 as simple as she was beautiful. There is a little 
 story told of her on one of her visits home in 
 Denmark, that shows how little pride ever entered 
 her heart. 
 
 Queen Alexandra. 
 
254 
 
 Alexandra was once passing along the streets of 
 Copenhagen with the Czar of Russia and her brother, 
 Crown Prince of Denmark. A peasant happened to 
 pass by driving a load of hay, and the Crown Prince 
 called out jokingly, " Give us a ride." 
 
 The peasant, little guessing who they were, drew 
 up his oxen and told them to climb on. It happened 
 that the route ran by the Palace, so as they were pass- 
 ing, the Czar told the peasant to drive into the court- 
 yard. But the peasant shook his head, " That's the 
 King's Palace, and no one is allowed in there but 
 royalty." 
 
 "Never mind," thundered the Czar, "you do as I 
 say. Don't you see I am the Czar of Russia ! " 
 
 "And I am the Crown Prince of Denmark," added 
 the other. " And this lady is Her Royal Highness, 
 the Princess of Wales." 
 
 The peasant looked at them a moment carefully 
 through his little squinting eyes, then he drawled 
 out, " And I am the Emperor of China," and drove 
 on by the gate. 
 
 While in London the Prince and Princess of Wales 
 lived in state at the great Marlborough House, but 
 they liked to call Sandringham Hall, a beautiful 
 country seat in Norfolk, their real home. 
 
 There were many gardeners and gamekeepers 
 needed on the estate, and King Edward was very 
 
255 
 
 generous to them 
 
 He built pretty cottage homes 
 for them; schools for their children; a clubhouse 
 where they could meet when not at work ; and a 
 
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 Sandringham Hall. 
 
 hospital to care for them when they were sick. The' 
 hospital was the special care of Queen Alexandra, and 
 was visited by her every day when she was at Sand- 
 ringham. Over the door she placed this motto: — 
 
 Ask God for all you want, 
 Thank Him for all you have, 
 And never grumble. 
 
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 256 
 
 On one part of the grounds, hidden among the 
 trees, is a tiny dairy. Just as the French queen 
 
 Marie Antoi- 
 nette, liked to slip 
 away from the 
 great palace at 
 Versailles and 
 play dairy maid, 
 Queen Alexandra 
 and her court 
 ladies liked to 
 wander through 
 the trees to the 
 little dairy and 
 make themselves 
 a cup of tea. 
 
 King Edward 
 VII did not have 
 a long reign. 
 Before he had 
 celebrated his tenth anniversary he died leaving his 
 throne to his sailor son George. The new king was 
 crowned in June, 191 1, George V of England. His 
 wife, formerly Princess Mary of Teck is now Eng- 
 land's queen, and already there are six little princes 
 and princesses about whom some day perhaps we 
 shall have to write more Little Stories of England. 
 
 King George V.