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[Illustration: _Victoria R_]
SOME FAMOUS WOMEN
BY
LOUISE CREIGHTON
AUTHOR OF
“A FIRST HISTORY OF ENGLAND,” “A FIRST HISTORY OF FRANCE,”
“HEROES OF EUROPEAN HISTORY,” ETC. ETC.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS
LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO.
39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON
NEW YORK, BOMBAY, AND CALCUTTA
1909
All rights reserved
CONTENTS
PAGE
INTRODUCTION xi
CHAP.
I. ST. HILDA 15
II. JOAN, THE FAIR MAID OF KENT 26
III. JEANNE D’ARC, THE MAID OF FRANCE 37
IV. MARGARET BEAUFORT 56
V. RACHEL, LADY RUSSELL 71
VI. ELIZABETH FRY 85
VII. MARY SOMERVILLE 98
VIII. JULIA SELINA INGLIS 112
IX. FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE 126
X. ISABELLA BIRD, AFTERWARDS MRS. BISHOP 141
XI. SISTER DORA 156
XII. QUEEN VICTORIA 171
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
QUEEN VICTORIA _Frontispiece_
PAGE
WHITBY ABBEY 20
THE COMPLETION OF THE ARK 23
TOURNAMENT 27
KNIGHT RECEIVING HIS HELMET FROM LADY 31
KNIGHTS JOUSTING 36
JEANNE IN CHURCH 39
JEANNE HEARS THE VOICE 41
JEANNE RIDES TO CHINON 43
JEANNE IS WOUNDED BY THE ARROW 47
THE CORONATION OF CHARLES VII. 49
THE BURNING OF JEANNE 54
MARGARET, COUNTESS OF RICHMOND 57
EDWARD IV. 60
RICHARD III. 62
HENRY VII. 63
ELIZABETH OF YORK, QUEEN OF HENRY VII. 64
CHRIST’S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE 69
TUDOR ROSE (WHITE AND RED) 70
LORD WILLIAM RUSSELL TAKING LEAVE OF HIS CHILDREN 79
PREVIOUS TO HIS EXECUTION, 1683
ELIZABETH FRY 87
MRS. FRY READING TO THE PRISONERS IN NEWGATE, 1816 93
MARY SOMERVILLE 99
SOMERVILLE COLLEGE, OXFORD 109
THE GATEWAY OF THE RESIDENCY, LUCKNOW, SHOWING MARKS OF 117
SHOT AND SHELL ON THE BRICKWORK
FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE 127
FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE AT SCUTARI—A MISSION OF MERCY 133
FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE IN ONE OF THE WARDS OF THE 135
HOSPITAL AT SCUTARI
MRS. BISHOP (ISABELLA BIRD) 143
SISTER DORA 157
THE STATUE AT WALSALL 169
QUEEN VICTORIA AT HER ACCESSION 173
PORTRAIT OF PRINCE ALBERT 175
VISCOUNT MELBOURNE 177
THE MARRIAGE OF QUEEN VICTORIA TO H.R.H. PRINCE ALBERT 181
LORD PALMERSTON 184
WILLIAM EWART GLADSTONE 185
THE VICTORIA CROSS 186
MARRIAGE OF H.R.H. VICTORIA, PRINCESS ROYAL, TO H.R.H. 187
PRINCE FREDERICK WILLIAM OF PRUSSIA
BENJAMIN DISRAELI, LORD BEACONSFIELD 189
QUEEN VICTORIA’S JUBILEE, 1897 191
INTRODUCTION
IN this little book I am going to tell you about some of the women who
have been famous in the past. There are perhaps many names more famous
than those I have chosen, but it was not always the best women who were
the most talked about. In the past it was seldom that any woman, who was
not a royal lady or some great aristocrat, became known to the world. In
the early days of Christianity, many women suffered bravely for their
faith, and later in the convents there were studious nuns who became
known for their learning. In the account of St. Hilda you will read of
one of the most famous of these. But most women were busy in keeping
their houses, and had to do many things which no woman would dream of
doing now. Cloth and linen had to be woven at home, simple medicines and
ointments were made by the great ladies, who had often to act as doctors
as well as nurses. Only few women had any book learning, and it was long
before it was thought desirable for a woman to learn to write. When good
schools were started for boys, few people thought it desirable to do
anything for the education of girls. It was not till the nineteenth
century that a change began, and that people as a rule began to think
that, as girls had minds as well as boys, it was as well to give them
the chance of learning. When you read about Mrs. Somerville, you will
see how great was the change in her lifetime. No one troubled to teach
her when she was a child, but before her death the first colleges for
women were founded at Cambridge.
Joan of Kent is an example of the aimless life led by a great lady in
the Middle Ages who was kindly and beloved, but did not know how to make
her life of use to others. Margaret Beaumont was also a great lady and
might have spent her days in pleasure, but the experiences of her life
made her serious, and she used her life and her money in the service of
others. Since their day, there have been many great ladies who have been
like one or other of these two.
The first way in which women who had no great position in the world made
themselves famous was by their care for the poor and the suffering. What
such women could do, and there have been very many of them, is seen in
the lives of Elizabeth Fry, Sister Dora, and Florence Nightingale. Other
women have given their lives to sharing the sorrows and anxieties of
their husbands, and by their love and devotion have been their greatest
help in difficult times. These are seldom known to fame, but we see
examples of them in Lady Rachel Howard and Lady Inglis. But whilst most
women would always choose a quiet home life there are others, of whom
Mrs. Bishop is an example, who are filled with the spirit of adventure,
and like to face difficulties and to see new things. It is not possible
in one small book to give examples of all the different kinds of women
who have lived for the service of others. I should like to have told you
something about the women doctors, the great women teachers, the women
writers and novelists. From all their lives you would learn one lesson
which is set forth clearly in the life of Queen Victoria. Nothing worth
doing is done without a great deal of trouble. The ruler of a great
empire has to work as hard as any girl in a factory, and Queen Victoria
is known as a great queen, not because she had talents above other
women, but simply because she set herself to do her duty in the position
in which God had placed her. In that we can all imitate her.
But what shall I say about the one woman in our book who is not English,
the Maid of France? She seems to me to stand apart from all other women,
like a beautiful vision for our delight and reverence. But she is like
all other good women in this that she did the thing that lay before her.
Without fear, in perfect simplicity, she took up the task to which she
felt she was called, and went straight on without looking back, even to
death.
We do not know what work may be asked from women in the future, but the
same spirit will still be needed—the capacity to take trouble, the
readiness to do difficult things when duty calls, and the gentle spirit
of love which, in spite of all her learning, made Mrs. Somerville a
better wife and mother than most even of those who have devoted
themselves entirely to their domestic duties.
SOME FAMOUS WOMEN
I
ST. HILDA
AMONGST our forefathers, the wild German tribes who conquered Britain
and made it England, women had always held an honourable place. This
made it possible for them, in the days when the Christian faith was
first preached in England, to do a great deal to help the work of the
Church. They did not have to spend their days in fighting like the men,
and they were eager to listen to the new teaching which showed them many
different ways of serving God and helping their fellow-creatures.
Probably it was the Christian wife of Ethelbert, King of Kent, a French
princess, who helped to make him willing to listen to Augustine, the
missionary sent from Rome by the Pope to convert the English. Kent was
the first of the English kingdoms to become Christian. In the northern
part of England there was a great king called Edwin, who ruled over
Northumbria and had his capital at York. He seems to have heard much in
praise of one of Ethelbert’s daughters, Ethelburga, who was so beloved
in her family that they called her Tata, the darling. Edwin sent
messengers to ask Ethelburga’s brother, Eadbald, who had succeeded his
father as king, to give him his sister in marriage. But Eadbald said
that he could not give his sister to a heathen. Edwin would not be
refused. He sent messengers again, and said that if only he might have
Ethelburga as his wife, he would allow her to worship in her own way,
and would be willing to adopt her faith if, on hearing more about it,
his wise men should decide that it was better than his own. So
Ethelburga was sent to York with Bishop Paulinus as her chaplain. Edwin
was true to his word; he treated Paulinus kindly, and after a while
listened to his teaching, and when he had consulted his wise men, and
they too were willing, he decided to be baptized.
Quickly a little wooden chapel was built on the spot where now stands
the great minster of York, and within its walls Edwin and many others
were taught the Christian faith. On Easter Eve, in the year 627, he was
baptized. Many of his nobles as well as members of his family were
baptized with him. Amongst them was a young girl, his great-niece, the
Princess Hilda, then fourteen years old. We do not know anything about
Hilda’s life as a child nor for some years after her baptism. Her mother
and her sister were also early converts to Christianity. In some way
Hilda must have continued her Christian education, most probably she
lived at a religious settlement in the north, and was busy in some sort
of work for the Church. In those days all girls either married or
entered a convent of some kind. Hilda, a member of a royal family, would
certainly have been sought in marriage had it not been known that she
had in some way given herself to a religious life. Many royal ladies
were founders of convents. They received grants of land from their
fathers or brothers and gathered round them those who wished to live in
peace, away from all the fighting and disturbance of the world. Many
royal ladies retired into convents after their husband’s death, or
sometimes even during their husband’s lifetime. In the convents they
could study, or do beautiful embroidery for the churches, care for the
sick and aged, or teach the children. It was considered the holiest life
that a woman could lead: those men, too, who wished to lead quiet lives
and to spend their days in study rather than in fighting could only do
so by retiring into a convent. If it had not been for the convents in
early times there would have been no books, no learning, no art or
industry. It was by the people who lived in the convents that the land
was drained and cultivated, and that sheep and oxen were reared. France
had become Christian earlier than England, so there were more famous
convents there, and ladies belonging to the English royal families used
to go over to the French convents to be educated, and often retired to
them to end their days.
We are not told that Hilda was sent to a French convent to be educated,
but her sister Hereswitha, who had married the King of East Anglia, went
after his death to a French convent, and Hilda prepared to join her
there. Hilda was by this time thirty-three. All that we know of her life
since her baptism is what the old Northumbrian historian, Bede, tells
us—that she lived very nobly among her family and fellow-citizens.
Somehow her virtues and gifts attracted the notice of Aidan, the holy
Bishop of Lindisfarne, who was working with zeal and devotion to win the
wild people of the north for Christ. He seems to have been Hilda’s
friend and adviser, and he wanted her help in his work. When he heard
that she was thinking of going to join her sister in France, he begged
her to remain among her own people and to help them. Hilda yielded to
his wishes, and she first settled down with a few companions on the
river Wear. But soon afterwards she was called in the year 647, to be
head of a convent in Hartlepool, which had been founded some years
before, and was the first convent for women in that part of England.
Those were very anxious days. There had been Christian kings in
Northumbria who had made it into a great and strong kingdom, and with
the help of Aidan and other holy men had made the people Christian and
brought peace into the land. But the Northumbrian kings were attacked by
Penda, the last great heathen king in England, a fierce and mighty
fighter, and it seemed at times as if he would utterly destroy the power
of the Christian kings. Hilda in her quiet convent must have waited
anxiously for the news that came of the fighting between Oswy, the King
of Northumbria, and Penda, who with his great army of fierce fighters
seemed to rush like a torrent over the country. It was eight years after
she had gone to Hartlepool, that Oswy with a much smaller army, utterly
routed Penda’s great host in a battle in which the fierce old heathen
king was himself killed. Before the battle Oswy had sworn that if he
gained the victory, he would give his infant daughter to God; and he now
sent his little Ælflæd, not yet a year old, to his kinswoman Hilda to
bring up in her convent. With his daughter, he gave also a rich gift of
land, so that Hilda might be able to extend her work. The little Ælflæd
was a great delight to Hilda, and grew up to be her dearest companion
and fellow-worker.
Hilda had done much at Hartlepool. She had learnt all she could from
wise men as to how to order a convent. Aidan and all the religious men
who knew her used to visit her constantly. They were glad to teach her
all they knew, and they loved her dearly because of her wisdom and her
delight in the service of God.
In those days the work that women could do for the Church was highly
esteemed, and the abbesses who ruled over the convents were very
important people. They had to manage large estates as well as to order
all the different kinds of work that were carried on in the convent.
Many of them were very learned women; and we know of Hilda that she was
always eager to learn, and knew well how to teach others what she had
learnt. After she had spent some years at Hartlepool, she decided to
found a new convent on some of the lands that had been granted her by
King Oswy. She chose a beautiful spot on the top of a high cliff
overlooking the sea, at the mouth of the river Esk. This spot was
afterwards called Whitby, and by that name Hilda’s famous abbey is best
known. But though in later times a beautiful abbey church was built
there, the ruins of which are still standing, all that Hilda could build
was a rude little church made of the split trunks of trees, thatched
with rushes. Round the church stood the huts in which Hilda and her nuns
lived, with their kitchen and their dining-hall. Farther off, but still
in the enclosure of the convent, were huts in which monks lived; for in
those early days it often happened that men and women joined together to
found one convent. The monks and the nuns lived apart, but Hilda ruled
over them all alike. Some of the monks tilled the fields belonging to
the convent: and there were barns and farm buildings, as well as rooms
for writing and study. Over all these different men and women Hilda
ruled firmly and wisely. They were all treated alike. There was no one
in her convent who was rich and no one who was poor, for those who came
there gave all their possessions into the common store. Hilda so ruled
that peace and charity prevailed amongst them all. All who knew her
called her Mother, because of her singular piety and grace, and the fame
of her virtues spread far and wide. She loved learning and wished all to
study, and made them give much time to the reading of the Bible. Her own
wisdom and prudence were so well known that many people, and amongst
them even kings and princes, came to her for advice in their
difficulties. Amongst those who studied at Whitby many grew afterwards
to be famous, and five of those who had lived under Hilda’s rule became
bishops of the Church. But, of all the dwellers at Whitby, the most
famous was one who had begun life simply as one of the workers on the
farm, the sweet singer Cædmon.
[Illustration:
_Photo: Frith & Co._
WHITBY ABBEY.
This was the successor of St. Hilda’s building.
]
In those days, at feasts, it was the custom for one after another to be
asked for a song, and the harp was passed round the table, each taking
it in turn and accompanying himself whilst he sang. Cædmon thought that
he could not sing, and when he saw that his turn was coming near, he
used to get up and quietly leave the table and go home. One day he had
left the feast in this way and gone to the stable where it was his duty
that night to take care of the horses. Having done his work he settled
himself to sleep, and in the night one stood by his side, and calling to
him, said, “Cædmon, sing some song to me.” He answered, “I cannot sing,
for that reason I left the feast and withdrew to this place, because I
cannot sing.” But he who stood by his side answered, “However, you shall
sing.” “What shall I sing?” asked Cædmon; and the answer came, “Sing the
beginning of created beings.” Then in his dream he sang in praise of God
the Creator with words which he had never heard before. When he awoke,
he remembered what he had sung, and added more verses to those which had
come to him in his dream. He told the steward who was set over him of
this gift of song that had been granted to him in his sleep, and the
steward took him to the Abbess Hilda. She bade him in the presence of
herself and of several learned men repeat the verses which he had made,
and they all decided that it must be through the grace of God that this
gift had come to him. They explained to him a passage from the Bible and
bade him go away and turn it into verse. Next morning he came back and
recited to them the excellent verses which he had made. Then Hilda bade
him give up his work on the farm and come into the convent and become a
monk, that he might devote himself to cultivating the gift of song which
he had received. She directed some of the brethren to teach him the
sacred history contained in the Bible, that he might turn it into song.
After they had taught him, Cædmon would think over all that he had
heard, turning it over in his mind as the cow chews the cud, till he
brought it out again as harmonious verse, which he would sweetly repeat
to his masters, who now in their turn became his hearers. He sang of the
Creation and of the doings of the people of Israel and of the life and
sufferings of the Lord Jesus Christ, and tried by his poems to lead men
to love virtue and hate vice. Through his sweet singing great fame came
to Hilda’s convent, and after some years he died there in great peace
and holiness.
We are not told whether Hilda was able as time went on to build a more
stately church in place of the rough wooden one which she at first put
up, but it seems most likely, considering the fame of her abbey, that
she must have done so. She probably was friendly with Benedict Biscop,
the Abbot of Wearmouth, which was also in the north of England. Benedict
Biscop had made many journeys to France and Italy, and he first brought
to England glass windows and beautiful vestments for his church, as well
as skilled masons and glass workers from France, who taught their craft
to the Northumbrians. We cannot doubt that Hilda with her energy and her
wisdom got some of these men to come and teach her people also how to
put up beautiful buildings; perhaps Benedict Biscop may have given her
some of the treasures, vestments, pictures, or vessels for the church
services which he had brought back with him. The fame and importance of
the Abbey of Whitby is shown by the fact that it was chosen as the spot
in which to hold a great Council of the Church in 664, when many bishops
met with King Oswy to settle matters of great importance for the whole
Church in England. Hilda had to care for the entertainment of this great
gathering and to take part in their discussions. They had met to decide
whether in certain matters the customs of the Church of Rome or the
customs of the Church in Northumbria should be followed. Hilda was in
favour of the customs of Northumbria, but when King Oswy decided that it
would be better to do as the rest of the Church did, she was wise enough
to give in to his decision, seeing that these were matters which
concerned only the order and not the teaching of the Church.
[Illustration:
THE COMPLETION OF THE ARK.
From the Cædmon MS., circa A.D. 1000, in the Bodleian Library, Oxford.
]
We know that Hilda founded at least one other convent herself, and
several others were founded in different parts of England in imitation
of the great Abbey of Whitby. For many years she ruled her convent with
wisdom and diligence. At the end of her life she was called to bear the
trial of a long illness. For six years she lay ill, but during all that
time whenever possible, she would still teach those under her rule. She
bade them serve God dutifully when they were in perfect health, and
always return thanks to Him even when in trouble or suffering. How to do
this she showed by her own example, for all through her long sickness
she never failed to return thanks to God. When at last she felt death
drawing near, she gathered all the inmates of her convent around her,
and having bidden them to live in peace with one another and with all
others, she joyfully welcomed death who came to take her from her
sufferings to new life. She died in 680 at the age of sixty-six.
Ælflæd, the daughter of King Oswy, who as an infant had been confided to
Hilda’s care, succeeded her as abbess. Hilda was honoured as a saint by
the Church after her death.
II
JOAN, THE FAIR MAID OF KENT
ON the 19th March 1329, a great English noble, Edmund, Earl of Kent, was
beheaded outside the walls of Winchester. He was the youngest son of one
of England’s noblest kings, Edward I.; but he was a weak, vain man, and
in the troublous days which followed Edward I.’s death he had been used
first by one party and then by another, until he had made many enemies
and kept few friends. The wicked Queen Isabella, who had allowed her
foolish husband, Edward II., to be murdered, and ruled the country with
her favourite, Mortimer, in the name of her young son, Edward III.,
hated the Earl of Kent. She vowed his ruin and had him convicted of
treason. Men did not love Kent, but it was thought a terrible thing that
the son of Edward I. should perish like a traitor. Though he was
condemned to death, no one dared lift their hand against him, and from
morning till evening the great Earl waited, till a condemned criminal
consented to win his own pardon by cutting off the Earl’s head. Kent’s
youngest child, the little Joan, was then only a year old, and two years
afterwards Philippa, Queen of Edward III., moved with compassion for her
desolate state, took her under her care to bring her up at her court.
Many stories told of Queen Philippa show the kindness of her heart, and
we cannot doubt that the little Joan was happy under her care. She grew
up in the court of Edward III., which after his successful wars in
France became one of the most magnificent in Europe. Life was a
ceaseless round of festivities and gaieties. Rich booty was brought back
from the French wars, and the English ladies copied the extravagant
fashions of the French. We read of the feather beds with gorgeous
hangings which were used, of the rich furs, of the velvet robes
embroidered in silk and pearls, of the trailing dresses which lay in
heaps upon the ground in front as well as behind. Joan grew up to be a
very beautiful girl and to be very fond of fine clothes. She is said to
have been full of charm and to have been clever and brilliant as well.
The king’s eldest son, Edward, afterwards known as the Black Prince, was
two years younger than she, and growing up together, they seem to have
learnt to love one another.
[Illustration: TOURNAMENT.]
It was natural that Joan, who is described as the most beautiful and the
most lovable of all the maidens of England, should have had many
suitors. Her heart was won by Sir Thomas Holland, but whilst he was away
at the wars, the Earl of Salisbury tried to win her as his wife. When
Holland came back he petitioned the Pope to affirm his right to Joan’s
hand, and after both sides had been heard, judgment was given that Joan
was the wife of Holland. She was then just twenty-one, and shortly
afterwards, as both her brothers died, she became her father’s heiress
and Countess of Kent. Her husband was given various appointments in
France, and Joan went there with him several times. She always
surrounded herself with luxury of every kind and spent a great deal of
money on dress. Holland died in 1360 leaving her still beautiful and
charming, with three children. She was at once sought in marriage by
many suitors, but she would listen to none of them. An old writer tells
us that one day the Black Prince visited her and tried to persuade her
to accept one of these suitors, who was a friend of his. She constantly
refused, and at last answered, weeping, that she had given herself to
the most noble knight under heaven, and that for love of him she would
have no other husband as long as she lived, but that she knew that he
could never be hers.
Then the Prince implored her to tell him who this most noble knight was,
and when she would not speak, he went down on his knees saying that if
she would not tell him, he would be her mortal enemy. At last he wrung
from her the confession that it was he himself whom she meant, and when
he heard this, he was filled with love for her, and vowed that he would
never have any other wife so long as he lived. Edward was then thirty
years of age, and had refused many princely offers of marriage. Perhaps
he had never forgotten the beautiful cousin who had grown up with him,
and now when she was free he rejoiced to make her his. It is said that
Edward III. was very displeased when he heard that his son had made a
marriage contract with Joan, but that Queen Philippa, who had always
loved her tenderly, took their part. However this may be, we know that
they were married by the Archbishop of Canterbury at Windsor, in the
presence of the King, only ten months after the death of Joan’s first
husband. The marriage took place in October, and they went afterwards to
the Prince’s castle at Berkhamsted, where they spent Christmas.
In those days a great part of France was under the rule of the King of
England, and the knights and nobles of the fair Duchy of Aquitaine which
had belonged to the kings of England since the day when it had come to
Henry II. through his wife Eleanor, asked Edward III. to send his son to
rule over them. The Black Prince was famous for his courage and for the
great victories he had won in battle against the King of France. Edward
III. thought it only right that his son should have a distinguished
position, and he appointed him Prince of Aquitaine. Then the Black
Prince and Joan made great preparations for their departure, for they
were determined to have a magnificent court in Aquitaine and to take
with them many English knights and nobles. The English Parliament found
it difficult to provide the large sums of money needed for the luxurious
lives of Edward III. and his sons. It was hoped that Aquitaine would be
able to provide for the needs of the Black Prince and his wife. But they
spent so much before their departure in entertaining the King and court
for Christmas at their castle, and in supplying themselves with clothes
and furniture and all things needed for their journey, that they left
England deeply in debt.
Early in the year 1363, they landed at La Rochelle and were received by
a great company of knights and gentlemen who welcomed them with much
joy. Four days were spent at La Rochelle in feastings and merriment, and
then they set out on their journey to Bordeaux. At every town through
which they passed, they were received by all the nobles of the
neighbourhood, who crowded to do homage to the Prince.
Aquitaine was a rich and flourishing country, covered with vineyards,
and carried on a vigorous wine trade with England. The Prince set up his
court at Bordeaux, and it soon became the most brilliant court in
Europe. Both the Prince and Princess were alike in being very
extravagant and in loving fine clothes and merry-making. Those were the
days of chivalry, when the knights were brave and courteous to one
another, and loved jousts and tournaments in which they fought together
in the presence of noble ladies, and the winner received the prize for
his valour from the hand of a fair lady. But in their pursuit of
pleasure, the princes and nobles forgot their duties as wise rulers. As
long as they could win fame for themselves, and get enough money for
their wars and their luxuries, they cared very little for the well-being
of the people. In the Black Prince’s court at Bordeaux, the pride and
magnificence and neglect of the needs of the people which were the
weakness of chivalry showed themselves most clearly.
The Black Prince was a noble host; he made every one around him happy.
Eighty knights and four times as many squires feasted every day at his
table. The princess never showed herself except surrounded by many
ladies and fair maidens. The luxury of their dress, the strange new
fashions in which their clothes were cut and their wonderful
head-dresses embroidered with pearls shocked the people, who had been
accustomed to simpler and severer manners. The princess seems never to
have remembered that the money to pay for all these luxuries had to be
wrung by taxation from the people. In other ways she ever showed herself
warm-hearted and generous, and herself on one occasion pleaded with one
of the nobles to diminish the ransom due to him from a prisoner taken in
war.
[Illustration: KNIGHT RECEIVING HIS HELMET FROM LADY.]
The joyous life at Bordeaux was crowned by the birth of a son. Soon
afterwards there began to be talk of war with Spain, and it was decided
that the Black Prince should lead an expedition there. Great was the
despair of the princess when she heard that he was to go. The old
chronicler tells us that she lamented bitterly, saying, “Alas! what will
happen to me if I shall lose the true flower of gentleness, the flower
of magnanimity—him who in the world has no equal for courage? I have no
heart, no blood, no veins, but every member fails me when I think of his
departure.” But when the prince heard her lamentations, he comforted her
and said, “Lady, cease your lament and be not dismayed, for God is able
to do all things.” He took his leave of her very tenderly and said,
lovingly, “Lady, we shall meet again in such case that we shall have joy
both we and all our friends; for my heart tells me this.” Then they
embraced with many tears, and all the dames and damsels of the court
wept also, some weeping for their lovers, some for their husbands.
Shortly before the prince’s departure, Joan had given birth to a second
son, Richard, called Richard of Bordeaux, from the place of his birth,
who afterwards became King Richard II. The Black Prince was away in
Spain for a year. He was victorious in the war and on his return he was
magnificently welcomed at Bordeaux. A solemn procession of priests
bearing crosses came out to meet him, followed by the princess with her
elder son then three years old, surrounded by her ladies and her
knights. They were full of joy at their meeting, and after tenderly
embracing they walked hand in hand to their palace.
For the moment all seemed happy, but it soon appeared that the prince
had come back tired and worn out. He had succeeded in Spain, but the
cause for which he had fought was not a just one. The people of
Aquitaine were discontented because of the heavy taxes they had to pay
to keep up his luxurious court. It seemed to his enemies a good moment
to attack him, and the King of France, anxious to win back some of the
lands that he had lost, declared war against the English.
When the war began, the Black Prince was helpless with illness. He was
so furious with the French that he had himself carried in a litter to
attack them, and, for the first time, he showed himself cruel to the
people he conquered. Everything seemed to go wrong. Their eldest son
died, to the great grief of the prince and princess, and at last the
prince was so ill that he had to give up the command of his army to his
brother, John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, and return to England. It was
a sad coming home, very different from their joyous setting out for
France. In England, too, things were going badly; the king was old, and
the people were discontented because of the extravagance of the court
and the nobles. The Black Prince and his wife retired to their castle at
Berkhamsted. He was afflicted with a grievous malady and suffered
terribly, but he interested himself in the affairs of the country and
supported the Parliament, which was trying to remedy some of the abuses
of the government. In order to do this, he moved up to London to the
royal palace at Westminster. It was there that he died after four years
of illness and suffering. He commended his wife and his little son
Richard to the care of his father and brothers, and begged his followers
that as they had served him, so they would serve his little son. The
princess was broken-hearted at her husband’s death and bewailed herself
with bitter tears and lamentations. She was named guardian of her little
son Richard, who was then ten years old; he was made Prince of Wales and
declared heir to the throne, and only a year passed before, at his
grandfather’s death, he became King of England.
Those were anxious days in England. The country was worn out with the
expenses of long wars and of an extravagant court. The people had
suffered from a terrible pestilence called the Black Death. Everywhere
there was want and scarcity, which led to bitter discontent. The boy
king was surrounded by his uncles, ambitious men, who each wished to be
the chief power in the country. His mother, the Princess Joan, does not
seem to have had any ambition to take part in public affairs; we do not
hear of her mixing herself up in any of the intrigues that went on round
the little king; only once or twice she seems to have come forward to
make peace. She is said to have been interested in the teaching of John
Wiclif, a learned clergyman. Disgusted with the corruption of many of
the clergy, he was trying to teach a purer faith, and he had translated
the Bible into English so that even the unlearned might read it. But we
hear so little about Joan that it is clear that she must have lived very
quietly during these troubled days.
The discontent of the people at last led the peasants to rise in revolt
in many different parts of the country, and to march on London in order
to get redress for their wrongs. Princess Joan had been on a pilgrimage
to Canterbury, where the Black Prince lay buried, when, on her way back,
she fell in on crossing Blackheath with a crowd of the rebels. The rough
men surrounded her, but the charm and beauty which she still possessed
won their respect and the protection of their leaders. It is said that,
after asking her for some kisses, they allowed her to pass on her way
unharmed. She went to join her son in the Tower. Richard, then a boy of
fifteen, was not frightened by the rebels, who swarmed round the Tower
and asked that the king should come out and hear their grievances. He
rode out with one or two followers and went to meet the rebels at Mile
End, where he promised all that they asked him. But whilst he was away,
another band of rebels broke into the Tower. They forced their way into
the princess’s room and treated her with rough familiarity and rudeness.
They plunged daggers into her bed to see if anything was hidden there,
and terrified her so much that she fainted. Then her ladies carried her
away, and conveyed her in an open boat across the river to a house
belonging to the king called the Wardrobe, and there Richard joined her.
Meanwhile the rebels had seized and murdered the Archbishop, the chief
minister of the king. In the end the rebels were put down after much
bloodshed.
Richard II. seems to have had the charm and beauty of his mother, and as
a boy at least, the courage of his father, but he did not grow up to be
a wise king. He quarrelled with his powerful uncle, John of Gaunt, Duke
of Lancaster, who was suspected of wishing to make himself king, and
John, angry with his nephew, shut himself up in his castle at
Pontefract. The Princess Joan was ill and had grown so stout that
travelling was very difficult for her, but in spite of her sufferings
she made several journeys to Pontefract to see John of Gaunt and at last
succeeded in reconciling him with Richard. Richard treated her with
great respect, and when he went away to make war in Scotland, he
appointed five noble gentlemen to stay with her for her protection,
wherever she chose to live. But she could not always persuade him to do
as she wished. Her son by her first marriage, John Holland, had a
quarrel with another gentleman and slew him treacherously. Richard to
punish him seized his lands, and when Joan implored his pardon refused
to listen to her. This so grieved her that she fell ill and died whilst
Richard was still away in Scotland. In her will she asked to be buried
near her first husband in the church at Stamford; and there on Richard’s
return her funeral took place. The quarrels between her son and his
uncles which she had tried to heal grew worse after her death, till they
ended in the deposition of Richard, and the choice of John of Gaunt’s
son, Henry, as king.
Joan was not in any way a great woman, but we feel that there must have
been something uncommon about her beauty and her charm for the memory of
it to have lasted as it did. It was some time after her death that the
name of the Fair Maid of Kent was given her. She is an example of the
great lady of those days, kindly, generous, loving brave men, trying to
promote peace and kindliness, but extravagant and pleasure-seeking. No
evil is told of her, and she seems to have loved both her husbands
dearly and to have won their love in return.
[Illustration: KNIGHTS JOUSTING.]
III
JEANNE D’ARC, THE MAID OF FRANCE
ON January 6, probably in the year 1412, Jeanne d’Arc was born in
Domremy, a little village in Lorraine, the great duchy which lies on the
eastern frontier of France. Jeanne’s father was a hard-working peasant.
He owned horses and cattle and was one of the most respected inhabitants
of his village. There were no village schools in those days and Jeanne
never learnt to read and write. Her mother taught her the creed and her
prayers, as well as sewing and the work about the house. Like other
peasant girls she ploughed and worked in the fields and took care of the
cattle. She played with the other children, and used to dance and weave
garlands with them. Best of all she loved to go into the little church
and pray, so that sometimes the other children laughed at her for her
piety. She used to nurse the sick, and would even lie all night upon the
hearth in order to give up her bed to some poor person.
France was at that time in a very troubled state. The whole land was
divided into two parties, the Burgundians and the Armagnacs. The
Burgundians had made friends with the English, who under Henry V. had
conquered great part of France. Henry V. was dead, but his little son,
Henry VI., had been crowned King of France, and his uncle, the Duke of
Bedford, held Paris and many other towns in the north of France for him.
The true King of France, Charles VII., had not been crowned yet, and
many people still called him the Dauphin, the name by which the eldest
son of the King of France used to be called. He was quite young, of a
slow and lazy disposition, and had lost heart, and did not know how to
meet the difficulties which surrounded him. News of the sad state of
France must often have reached Domremy, brought by travellers of all
kinds, pedlars, pilgrims, and wandering friars, who carried the news in
those days as the newspapers do now.
When Jeanne was about thirteen, at noon one summer’s day, she was in her
father’s garden, when she suddenly saw a strange light and heard a voice
speaking to her. She was filled with fear and wondered what this could
mean. But she believed that it was the voice of God that she heard, and
after hearing it thrice, she knew it to be the voice of an angel. Twice
or thrice a week she used to hear the voice. It told her to be good and
to go often to church, and it also told her that she must go into
France. Sometimes there were several voices, and she thought they were
the voices of the Archangel Michael and of the Saints Margaret and
Catherine. Sometimes she saw their visible shapes, Michael in armour,
the Saints crowned with fair crowns. Their voices were beautiful,
gentle, and sweet, and a delicate fragrance accompanied them. We cannot
explain these visions. Jeanne herself believed that she saw and heard
the Saints, and that they guided her in all she had to do. After she had
seen them, she grew still more devout in her prayers, but though again
and again the voices told her to go into France, she waited from three
to four years wondering what this could mean, and speaking to no one of
the voices. In 1428, they told her to go to the governor of the
neighbouring town, Vaucouleurs, and ask him for an armed escort into
France, that she might save the town of Orleans, which was besieged by
the English. She answered, “I am a poor girl, who cannot ride or be a
leader in war.” But at last the day came when she felt that she could
not resist the voices any more. She did not tell her father and mother,
but she asked permission to visit a married cousin who lived near
Vaucouleurs. Then she persuaded her cousin’s husband to take her to see
the governor. The governor was a blunt, rough soldier, not at all likely
to believe in Jeanne’s mission. He could not be expected to think that
an ignorant girl of sixteen could save France, and he seems only to have
laughed at her. She went home not discouraged but quite clear in her
mind that next year she would save the Dauphin, and take him to be
crowned at Rheims, the city where the French kings had always been
crowned.
[Illustration: JEANNE IN CHURCH.]
In 1429 once more she went to Vaucouleurs. It was long before she could
get the governor to listen, but her determination never wavered. She
said, “I must be with the king by mid-lent if I wear my legs down to the
knees.” We do not know what at last prevailed upon the governor to let
her go, but she found two men who believed in her mission who undertook
to lead her to the king, and with them and their two servants she was
allowed to start. By the advice of one of these friends, she decided to
travel in a man’s dress. She wore a tunic, with breeches and boots, and
a page’s cap. The people of Vaucouleurs gave her a horse. Her friends
gathered to see her off, begging her not to go, and urging the dangers
of the journey. But she answered, “The way is made clear before me. I
have my Lord who makes the path smooth to the gentle Dauphin, for to do
this deed I was born.”
[Illustration: JEANNE HEARS THE VOICE.]
Jeanne met with no difficulties on her journey right across France to
Chinon, where the king was. At first he would not see her, but at last
she was brought into his presence, where he sat surrounded by fifty
knights in a hall blazing with fifty torches. No one told her which was
the king, but she knew neither fear nor doubt. One who was there says
that she came forward with great humility and simplicity, and spoke to
the king: “Most noble Lord Dauphin, I come from God to help you and your
realm.” The king drew her apart and spoke to her for a long time. She
told him that she would drive away the English from before Orleans, and
that she would lead him to be crowned, and she told him other things
which were kept secret between him and her; what they were she would
never tell.
The king seemed to those who were watching to rejoice at what he heard,
but he was always slow to move. He had to wait and consult many people
and test the Maid in many ways to find out whether he might trust her,
before he would let her do as she wished. In vain Jeanne prayed and
wept, longing to be allowed to bring help to the people of Orleans. She
was taken to the city of Poitiers and questioned by learned men. She was
so bothered by their many questions that when one asked, “Do you believe
in God?” she answered, “More firmly than you do.” It was six weeks
before it was decided that she might be trusted, and allowed to go to
Orleans. Then a suit of steel armour was made for her. She wished to
wear a special sword which she said that her voices had told her would
be found behind the altar at a little church near Tours. It was found as
she had said, covered with rust, which however came off easily when they
began to clean it. The people of Tours gave her two splendid sheaths,
one of red velvet and one of cloth of gold for the sword. In her hand
she carried her standard, which was white, with angels painted on it and
the motto “Jesus Maria.” She never used her sword and never killed any
one herself. Several men were chosen as her attendants and her two
brothers joined her.
[Illustration: JEANNE RIDES TO CHINON.]
When Jeanne was with the army, twice every day she gathered the priests
who were there round her banner, and they prayed and sang hymns; men
learnt to behave better for her presence. As she neared Orleans, Dunois
one of the chief men in the French army, came out to meet her, and said
that he was right glad of her coming. With him she made her way into
Orleans past the English army. She entered the city by night lest the
crowd should be too great; but many bearing torches came to meet her,
and men, women, and children pressed lovingly around her. Her business
now was to attack the forts which the English had built outside the
town. But before she would allow this to be done, she insisted that the
English should thrice be summoned to depart in peace. In her clear young
voice (she was only seventeen) she cried to them across the river, and
they shouted back insulting words saying they would burn her if they
caught her. But just as Jeanne’s coming had filled the French soldiers
with new hope and courage, so it had terrified the English. They did not
dare attack that slim figure in shining armour. At last the French from
the other side began to attack the English forts. Jeanne, worn out, was
resting on her bed, she did not know that the fighting had begun. But
suddenly she woke with a cry saying that she must go against the
English. Quickly her armour was buckled on, she sprang on her horse and
was off. On the next five days there was fighting with the English,
except on Ascension day, when Jeanne would not allow any one to go out.
On the last day, the chief of the English forts was attacked and Jeanne
led the attack. At noon as she mounted the first scaling ladder set
against the wall, an arrow struck her shoulder, piercing her armour. She
shrank and wept, but she barely paused to have her wound stanched, and
went back to the front. When the sun was sinking and men doubted whether
the fort could be taken, her voice was heard crying, “Doubt not, the
place is ours.” Her faithful followers rallied round her, and one seized
her standard and dashed forwards. “Watch,” Jeanne said, “till the tail
of my standard touches the wall.” When it did she said, “Then enter: all
is yours.” The last terrible assault carried all before it, and the fort
was won. When Jeanne saw close at hand the terrors of war, she knelt
weeping and praying for the souls of her enemies. Her first act was to
go to the church and give thanks, after that she had her wound dressed.