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Stories of 
 
 The World’s Holidays 
 
 BY 
 
 GRACE HUMPHREY 
 
 10 
 
 o o ■* 
 
 U O 5 3 j. 
 
 1926 
 
 MILTON BRADLEY COMPANY 
 SPRINGFIELD, MASSACHUSETTS 
 
Copyright 1923 
 
 By MILTON BRADLEY COMPANY 
 
 Springfield, Massachusetts 
 All Rights Reserved 
 
 Bradley Quality Boohs 
 
 Printed in the United States of America 
 

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 4 I-7 6 " 
 
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 To 
 
 MARIA 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Jan. 19 — The Man in Gray 1 
 
 Robert E. Lee. United States 
 
 Feb. 10 — The Feast of Lanterns .... 22 
 
 China 
 
 Feb. 12 — The Lawyer from the Middle West . 8- 
 
 Abraham Lincoln. United States 
 
 Feb. 11- — The Good Saint Valentine ... 52 
 
 Feb. 22 — The Master of “Mount Vernon” . . 57 
 
 George Washington. United States 
 
 Mar. 3 — The Children’s Paradise .... 80 
 
 Japan 
 
 Mar. 17 — The Torch Bearer 98 
 
 St. Patrick. Ireland 
 
 Apr. 19 — “To Arms! The Redcoats Are Com- 
 ing!” 113 
 
 Lexington and Concord. United States 
 
 May 3 — The Nation That Would Not Die . 134 
 
 Poland’s Constitution 
 
 May 30 — In the Corner of a Southern Church- 
 yard 147 
 
 Memorial Day. United States 
 
 July 4 — “We Must All Hang Together !” . . 154 
 
 Declaration of Independence. 
 
 United States 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PA«B 
 
 July 6 — An Emperor’s Safe-conduct . . . 174 
 
 Jan Hus. Czechoslovakia 
 
 July 14 — Twenty Minutes of Six . . . .193 
 
 Fall of the Bastille. France 
 
 July 24 — The Father of Five Countries . . 207 
 
 Bolivar. South America 
 
 Sept. 13 — The Vigil on the Cartel Ship . . 222 
 
 “The Star-spangled Banner’.’ 
 
 United States 
 
 Sept. 20 — On the Janiculum Hill .... 236 
 Victor Emmanuel, Mazzini, Cavour, 
 Garibaldi. Italy 
 
 Oct. 12 — The Stranger in the Threadbare 
 
 Cloak 254 
 
 Christopher Columbus. 
 
 Nov. 5 — The Man with the Dark Lantern . 274 
 The Gunpowder Plot. England 
 
 Nov. — Pewter Plates and Heaping Platters 293 
 
 Thanksgiving Day. United States 
 
 Dec. 25 — The Birthday of the King . . . 305 
 
 Christmas. 
 
 Reading List 323 
 
 Index 331 
 
Stories of the World’s 
 Holidays 
 
 THE MAN IN GRAY 
 t;he nineteenth of januaby 
 
 Was he right or was he wrong? 
 
 The old captain straightened up after plac- 
 ing the wreath at the base of the Lee statue. 
 That puzzling question flashed into his mind 
 again. The crowd was breaking up and leav- 
 ing. The group of men in gray, the Rich- 
 mond camp of the United Confederate 
 Veterans, were saying their goodbyes. The 
 captain walked back a few steps and gazed up 
 at the statue. 
 
 Was he right or was he wrong? 
 
 The last of the old soldiers were hobbling 
 over to the street-car. Fewer of them than 
 last year — the colonel sick, old Jim laid up 
 with rheumatism, Bill gone, Jackson gone too. 
 He looked back to the statue and saluted as 
 he turned away. 
 
 l 
 
2 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 The spring of ’61, he thought, and its crisis 
 — was there ever such a tangle of duties and 
 loyalties? — such a criss-cross of good and evil? 
 The war’s farther and farther away. State’s 
 rights, secession from the Union, slavery, 
 things that were all mixed up then seem 
 maybe clearer now. The whole’s greater than 
 a part even if that part’s the South — yes, even 
 if it’s Virginia. But there’s one thing never 
 changes — you don’t call it change when it 
 gets deeper and stronger — our love for Marse 
 Robert. 
 
 Yet when a man — not a youngster like us, 
 but an older, thoughtful man who was against 
 secession — when that man left the Union be- 
 cause Virginia left it, and served his state so 
 loyally — well, he was true blue — or true gray! 
 Still — fighting for Virginia was really fighting 
 for slavery — 
 
 Was he right or wrong after all? Who's 
 to say? Settled at last by the fortunes of war 
 — the two flags flying side by side in Rich- 
 mond, this mild January day — flying side by 
 side all through the South for the birthday of 
 Robert E. Lee — stars and stripes — stars and 
 bars. 
 
 The old man’s eyes were bright as he walked 
 
LEE’S BIRTHDAY 
 
 8 
 
 slowly homeward. Stars and stripes, he 
 thought again, stars and bars. He saw noth- 
 ing of the holiday crowds, of the decorations 
 on every hand. He saw only pictures of lon^ 
 ago — excited scenes of college students enlist- 
 ing when word came that Sumter had been 
 fired on, that two more states had seceded. 
 He saw the stately portico of Arlington and 
 fancied he heard footsteps up and down, up 
 and down while a weighty decision was being 
 made. He heard cheering as a tall, fine figure 
 in gray on a gray horse came riding down the 
 lines. 
 
 Was he right or was he wrong? No, he 
 couldn’t have done anjdhing else — how was it 
 Lincoln put it — with firmness in the right as 
 God gave him to see the right — 
 
 The captain turned in at his own gate. On 
 the porch was his young friend Randolph with 
 a girl, a stranger. 
 
 “So here we are, waiting for you to tell us 
 the real story, your own first-hand story,” ex- 
 plained the lad after he had introduced his 
 guest from the North and told about her amaz- 
 ing questions that morning — why was it a 
 holiday? what was that strange flag? 
 
 “Sit here, Miss Ellen,” the captain bowed 
 
4 
 
 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 in his courtly fashion, “where you can see the 
 old flag and my picture of Marse Robert, — 
 that’s what we always called General Lee. 
 Now what shall I tell you? Not the history 
 of the civil war — you and Randolph’d be 
 quicker with dates and battles than an old 
 fellow like me. My own story you want? 
 
 “No, I didn’t get into the army at the start 
 — too young. All my friends at college were 
 enlisting — no debate in their minds. But 
 what a difficult decision it was for Lee! He 
 loved the Union, the Lees had helped to make 
 it. He loved his state Virginia, his people had 
 helped make that too. He knew what war 
 was, shorn of its glamour and glory, for he 
 was a colonel in the army. Should he stand 
 by the L T nited States or should he go with 
 Virginia? It was a life-and-death question. 
 
 “Lincoln had called for volunteers to 
 march against the South. Virginia would be 
 the first state to be invaded. If Lee remained 
 in the army he’d have to fight against all he 
 loved best in the world. Northern troops 
 coming to drive out his own people and de- 
 stroy the country? He’d give his life in 
 defending his home. He decided to cast in 
 his lot with the South.” 
 
LEE S BIRTHDAY 
 
 5 
 
 “I remember,” interrupted Ellen excitedly. 
 “He walked up and down all night trying to 
 decide. They told us when we were in 
 Washington and went to see Lee’s old 
 home — ” 
 
 “Arlington,” put in Randolph. 
 
 “He came downstairs,” the captain went on 
 with a nod to each of his listeners, “and said to 
 his wife, ‘Well, Mary, the question is settled. 
 Here is my letter of resignation from the 
 army.’ He never wavered. He never after- 
 ward debated the rightness of his course. In- 
 deed years later he said firmly that he’d decide 
 the same way if it were all to do over. 
 
 “Do they tell you northern children, in your 
 history class at school, one thing that made the 
 decision harder — or would have made it 
 harder for most men? Do you know, Miss 
 Ellen, that Lincoln sent to Lee to offer him 
 the chief command of the United States 
 army? It was old General Scott, people 
 think, who suggested this to Lincoln. For he 
 admired Lee greatly and had praised his 
 splendid work in the Mexican war. Here 
 was a chance for an ambitious soldier who al- 
 ready had to his credit a service of more than 
 thirty years. 
 
6 
 
 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 “ ‘No,’ was his reply, ‘if I owned a million 
 slaves I would cheerfully sacrifice them to the 
 preservation of the Union; but to lift my 
 hand against my own state and people is im- 
 possible. I am a son of Virginia. I must do 
 as my state does.’ 
 
 “Dazzling rewards, his career, his fortune, 
 his home itself he sacrificed. He was too 
 wise not to foresee what the war would bring. 
 He never thought it would be a brief struggle, 
 but warned his wife it might last ten years. 
 Virginia would be the scene of many battles. 
 Arlington would he taken by the enemy. 
 
 “What do they teach you up there in the 
 North,” the old man asked turning to Ellen 
 suddenly, “about the causes of the war?” 
 
 “The civil war,” said the girl soberly, “did 
 two things: it freed the slaves and it saved the 
 Union. A lot of Northerners mixed these 
 two things up, but Lincoln saw them clearly. 
 I’ve often heard my great-uncles talk about 
 it. One of them enlisted because he was an 
 abolitionist, the other volunteered to help 
 save the Union. Don’t you remember that 
 speech of Lincoln’s? 
 
 “ ‘If I could save the Union without freeing any 
 slaves, I would do it. And if I could save it by 
 
LEE’S BIRTHDAY 
 
 7 
 
 freeing some and leaving others alone, I would also 
 do that. My paramount object is to save the 
 Union, and not either to save or destroy slavery.’ ” 
 
 “M — m,” said the captain smiling, “then 
 the North didn’t fight to free the slaves? 
 Well, neither were we fighting for slavery. 
 Many of us thought slavery wrong, and that 
 it hurt the whites more than the blacks — Lee 
 said that himself. He had freed his own 
 slaves and those that belonged to his wife were 
 to be freed in ’62 according to her father’s 
 will. But the slaves that Mrs. Grant in- 
 herited were slaves till the emancipation proc- 
 lamation ! 
 
 “Why, Miss Ellen, a good many soldiers in 
 our army owned no slaves. Could a cause like 
 slavery be incentive enough to make us march 
 and fight and starve for four years? Could 
 such a cause take an army through the hungry 
 winter of ’64? Could it be enough to call out 
 the devotion and patient endurance and splen- 
 did heroism that were Lee’s and that he passed 
 on to his men? 
 
 “No, no, we weren’t fighting for slavery. 
 We fought to preserve the right of each state 
 to govern itself with no federal interference. 
 We fought because Virginia was invaded. 
 
8 
 
 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 We fought on our own soil for our homes. 
 And that was a holy cause, dearer to us than 
 life.” 
 
 Ellen’s eyes were fastened on the old 
 captain who looked fixedly at the photograph 
 of Lee. She saw his hand reach out to touch 
 the faded stars and bars, the flag that was so 
 unfamiliar to her northern eyes, the flag that 
 had stood for so much to the South. 
 
 “It’s the same devotion, the same loyalty to 
 the flag,” she thought recalling the look on 
 her great-grandfather’s face as he had talked 
 to her about the war and Lincoln. “Well, 
 neither side can claim a monopoly of courage 
 and devotion. North and South, the best and 
 the bravest were fighting. No wonder it took 
 four long years to win, with such a foe!” 
 
 “I joined in May of ’ 62 ,” the captain went 
 on, “so my service in the army of Virginia 
 was exactly the same as Marse Robert’s. 
 That first year he was in Richmond organiz- 
 ing our troops, then military adviser to 
 President Davis.” 
 
 “Jeff Davis?” asked Ellen in a puzzled 
 voice. “Hang Jeff Davis to a — ” She won- 
 dered why Randolph nudged her. 
 
 “Then they gave him the army of northern 
 
LEE’S BIRTHDAY 
 
 9 
 
 Virginia. Lee was — how many years old 
 then? Right, fifty-five, with a splendid 
 record behind him. My uncle had been in his 
 regiment in the Mexican war and used to tell 
 us about him. And one of our neighbors was 
 in the squad of marines that went with him 
 to Harper’s Ferry to capture John Brown. 
 
 “Ah, that brings a flash across your face, 
 Miss Ellen. I suppose today the North feels 
 about that raid much as we do — that it was a 
 wild, crazy scheme, sure to fail or sure to cause 
 endless trouble? The southern states were all 
 excited over John Brown’s attempt to rouse 
 the slaves to revolt. But you made a martyr 
 of him in the North. Just his name in the 
 song was enough to stir your men. 
 
 “From ’62 to Appomattox my cousins and 
 I served under Marse Robert. There never 
 was such an army — Lee himself said so. You 
 won’t think this is idle boasting? Well, if it 
 is, forgive an old man, my dear. The army 
 of northern Virginia was the flower of the 
 South, with regiments and divisions from all 
 the eleven seceding states. A big proportion 
 was young men of high culture and learning. 
 I remember once, for a bit of fun, our 
 company had a solemn burial for our mascot, 
 
10 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 a tame crow. Resides speeches in English we 
 had a Latin oration and an ode in Greek. 
 
 “We weren’t soldiers of fortune, but sol- 
 diers of duty. The men were cheerful and un- 
 complaining, even when things were getting 
 worse and worse. We weren’t in the war for 
 any reward. Do you call it pay — eleven 
 dollars a month, in Confederate money? Do 
 you call it a fine bill of fare, the flour and 
 bacon and peanut coffee we had? There 
 were no decorations to strive for — no Victoria 
 Cross, no promotions given on the field for 
 special acts of valor. We had just the cause 
 of the South. We had just that one badge — 
 the gray uniform that gradually faded to 
 butternut brown. This fine gray one, Miss 
 Ellen, I keep for special occasions — today 
 and Memorial Days and reunions. 
 
 “But what made the army was our leader. 
 Never did soldiers have such a general, never 
 in all the world. The North had more men 
 and more money. But for a long time they 
 had no general so able as Lee. He was like 
 Washington, great in planning attacks, dar- 
 ing in his strategy and as daring in carrying 
 out his plans. 
 
 “Only think how he raised the siege of 
 
LEE’S BIRTHDAY 
 
 11 
 
 Richmond in the Seven Days’ Battles, and 
 won at Manassas — the second battle of Bull 
 Run you call it,” the captain explained 
 seeing the perplexed look on Ellen’s face. 
 “And what he did at Sharp sburg — I believe 
 the North called it Antietam — and at Chancel- 
 lorsville, the most brilliant of his achieve- 
 ments, when he used two-thirds of his men in 
 a flank march splendidly carried out by 
 Stonewall Jackson, and faced that great army 
 of Hooker’s with one man to five. And the 
 three days’ fighting at Gettysburg, that 
 marked the turn of the tide. 
 
 “Funny how we happened to fight at 
 Gettysburg, wasn’t it? You see, Miss Ellen, 
 we all needed new shoes and when we got up 
 into southern Pennsylvania we heard there 
 were shoes at Gettysburg. There we found 
 the enemy and attacked before all their men 
 could come up. No wonder the battle took 
 three days, for the Yanks kept coming and 
 coming, some of them from thirty-six miles 
 away. 
 
 “In all history is there a more daring enter- 
 prise than Pickett’s charge ? For numbers and 
 distance the famous Light Brigade doesn’t 
 compare with it. A full half-mile we went 
 
12 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 across that plain and up the flaming slopes of 
 Cemetery Ridge. Oh, it was a great assault 
 and ought to have succeeded. For the north- 
 ern army had had severe losses those three 
 days. Their morale was low. If Lee’s 
 orders had been carried out promptly and 
 exactly and if Longstreet’s divisions had sup- 
 ported Pickett, we’d have cut the Yanks in 
 two and driven them from the field. 
 
 “A few years ago when the G.A.R. had a 
 joint reunion with our U.C.Y. I happened to 
 meet two men who’d been on Cemetery Ridge 
 that day, waiting to receive us. They told me 
 they were out of ammunition and if the charge 
 had been followed up, they’d have retreated in 
 five minutes more. Why, their generals 
 didn’t know they’d won a victory and reported 
 to Lincoln only that Lee’s invasion was 
 stopped. 
 
 “Twelve thousand of us started across. 
 Shells hissed over us. Shot tore through 
 us. Right and left men fell and the ranks 
 thinned. But we pressed on, reached the foot 
 of the hill and swarmed up it for a furious 
 conflict with its defenders. We actually 
 planted our flags on the crest of Cemetery 
 Ridge. Then slowly, sullenly we rolled back 
 
LEE’S BIRTHDAY 
 
 13 
 
 across that blood-soaked plain among the 
 heaps of dead. Gettysburg was over. 
 
 ‘'Our shattered remnants straggled along 
 in disorder. And there waiting for us, ready 
 with a word of sympathy and encouragement 
 was Marse Robert on the old gray horse 
 Traveler that we all knew so well. 
 
 “ ‘Rally to your colors,’ he called out. ‘All 
 this will come right in the end. We’ll talk of 
 it afterwards. Now rally!’ 
 
 “He had not a word of reproach for Long- 
 street. He took on his own shoulders the 
 whole responsibility, the whole blame of the 
 defeat. But our men were not so unselfish, 
 not so charitable. On the march south they 
 grumbled against Longstreet and threatened 
 to hang him. And notice this: if the Yanks 
 thought Gettysburg a great victory they let 
 us retreat unmolested and it was months 
 before they attacked us again. 
 
 “Like Washington too Lee was a master in 
 defensive warfare. He used the shield as 
 skilfully as the sword. Look at Fredericks- 
 burg, at the long Wilderness campaign and 
 the siege of Petersburg, the tragic retreat of 
 that last April. 
 
 “See what he had to contend with — num- 
 
14 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 bers against him greater than Napoleon faced 
 at Waterloo. With slow, steady, iron fist 
 Grant hammered his way onward. But he 
 had back of him all the men he asked for. He 
 had supplies without limit — food and clothes, 
 ammunition and muskets. 
 
 “What did Marse Robert have? A weather- 
 beaten army that was half shod, half fed, half 
 clothed. A bankrupt country that had given 
 all her men — her younger men and her older 
 men, sixteen to sixty, till President Davis 
 said they were using up their seedcorn and 
 robbing both the cradle and the grave. There 
 were no new recruits to throw into battle. 
 
 “The blockade was like a boa-constrictor 
 whose coils grew tighter and tighter. The 
 whole South was suffering privations and 
 hardships. Once Marse Robert sent a special 
 present to his wife — one nearly dried-up 
 lemon ! If we fought General Grant in front 
 of us, we were also fighting General Want 
 in our rear. The other confederate states 
 could not help us in Virginia. Vicksburg 
 fell. The Mississippi was open to the sea. 
 Sherman marched across Georgia. The 
 Yanks came up into the Carolinas. 
 
 “The South was not a manufacturing 
 
LEE S BIRTHDAY 
 
 15 
 
 country and could not make what our armies 
 needed. We could not sell our tobacco and 
 cotton in Europe and then buy overseas. No, 
 I don’t think it was better generalship that 
 won the war for the North — not Grant’s iron 
 will or Sherman’s strategy. It was the 
 blockade that did it. You won because we 
 were exhausted. 
 
 “Often half our men, and at the end two- 
 thirds of us were armed with sabers we took 
 from the enemy. Was it an equal fight,” he 
 turned suddenly to Ellen, “when your men 
 fired their Spencer rifles seven times without 
 reloading, and we with the old Sharp’s musket 
 fired once and lowered it to put in the next 
 cartridge? When your sappers and miners 
 did such rapid night work after the first day at 
 Gettysburg, while we had to throw up breast- 
 works with our bayonets because spades were 
 luxuries ? 
 
 “Our gray uniforms were woven on planta- 
 tion looms. Our cannon were mounted on 
 farm wagons. Our swords were made at cross- 
 road forges. So empty was the countryside 
 that we thought ourselves well off when we 
 found a corncrib with some grain left in it, and 
 had parched corn to munch as we marched 
 
16 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 along. More than once I had to post a guard 
 where the artillery horses were fed, to prevent 
 the soldiers from taking their corn. Yet we 
 kept on with unwavering courage because we 
 had faith in Marse Robert. 
 
 “The end came at last. Nothing but use- 
 less loss of life could result if the struggle 
 was continued. At Appomattox Lee agreed 
 to Grant’s generous terms of surrender. 
 How glad we were to get those northern ra- 
 tions! Go over to the desk, Randolph, and 
 bring me that box in the second drawer. Yes, 
 that’s it, the little pill-box. 
 
 “Here, Miss Ellen, is the rations our 
 quartermaster gave us that last morning at 
 Appomattox. I saved mine as a souvenir. 
 Open the box and look.” 
 
 Ellen took off the lid, her eyes big with 
 amazement. One, two, three, four, five 
 grains of corn and one, two, three coffee beans. 
 That was a day’s food for a soldier in gray. 
 
 “What a picture they made,” the captain 
 went on, “Marse Robert in full uniform, with 
 sword and sash, and Grant with his boots spat- 
 tered all over with mud, dressed in a private’s 
 blouse and only his shoulder-straps to show his 
 rank. Lest Lee might think his careless 
 
LEE’S BIRTHDAY 
 
 17 
 
 dress a discourtesy he took pains to explain 
 that he’d been without his luggage for four 
 days. 
 
 “Marse Robert came out of the McLean 
 house and paused a moment, his eyes resting 
 on the Virginia hills. Then mounting on old 
 Traveler he rode down the lane. Somehow 
 news of what was happening had got abroad. 
 We were all waiting on the hillside. When 
 he came in sight we were up around him in 
 an instant. Bareheaded, with our faces wet 
 with tears, we thronged around our general. 
 Some of the soldiers kissed his hand. They 
 sobbed like children and cheered as they wept. 
 To the very skies they shouted his name again 
 and again. 
 
 “ ‘Men,’ said Marse Robert, his voice 
 quivering with emotion, ‘we’ve fought through 
 the war together. I have done my best for 
 you. My heart is too full to say more.’ 
 
 “Far over the hills our cheering was heard. 
 The Yanks thought we were rejoicing over 
 the surrender and the end of the war. Ho, the 
 cheers were for Marse Robert who had surren- 
 dered our muskets, but still commanded our 
 hearts. 
 
 “Appomattox is the end of Lee’s story, I 
 
18 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 suppose, for you children in the North? A 
 conquered chieftain, he came back to Rich- 
 mond, to the house on Franklin Street.” 
 
 “You remember, Ellen, where we went to 
 the Virginia Historical Society?” put in 
 Randolph. 
 
 “But even in defeat and failure Lee reigned 
 in the hearts of the southern people. He was 
 still the leader. More than he did for the 
 South during the war, he did during the next 
 five years. For the conflict was not over. 
 Instead of battles there was Reconstruction. 
 We must fight not with muskets, but with 
 patience and self-control. 
 
 “How could Lee best serve his country? 
 Live in peace on the beautiful estate in 
 England which was offered him? The South 
 needed all her sons. Accept a position in 
 business with a big salary? But he knew 
 nothing of life insurance. Never mind, it was 
 enough that the company could use his name. 
 ‘But gentlemen,’ he replied, ‘if it is worth 
 fifty thousand dollars a year, don’t you think 
 I ought to take good care of it? My name is 
 not for sale.’ 
 
 “In the little town of Lexington in the 
 Shenandoah Valley he served as president of 
 
LEE’S BIRTHDAY 
 
 19 
 
 Washington College — today we call it Wash- 
 ington and Lee. He was not a figurehead, 
 but the active ruling spirit. The rest of his 
 life he gave to train the young men of the 
 South, sending them out prepared to help in 
 building up her waste places. 
 
 “With the same zeal he had shown in creat- 
 ing an army, a nation, Lee threw himself into 
 the task of building up a small and struggling 
 college. What counted most was his per- 
 sonal influence with the students. Indeed he 
 was creating a nation still. His own courage 
 and patience, his forgiveness, his hope for the 
 future, he passed on to the eager young people 
 about him and through them to all the South, 
 sorely in need of these things. 
 
 “Lincoln would have done much to bring 
 the seceding states back to their early loyalty 
 to the Union. His death left it for Lee to do. 
 The people must be reconciled to the results 
 of the war. They must forget their dream of 
 a Confederacy and be cheerfully loyal to a 
 reunited country. To set an example, he was 
 among the first to apply for pardon from the 
 federal government. No other man could 
 have brought about such a prompt acceptance 
 of the final judgment. 
 
20 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 “A private in our camp here in Richmond 
 told his colonel that he had taken the oath of 
 allegiance to the United States. 
 
 “ ‘You’ve disgraced your family!’ 
 
 “ ‘But General Lee told me to do it, sir.’ 
 
 “ ‘Oh, that alters the case. Whatever he 
 says is all right, I don’t care what it is.’ 
 
 “Against the North Marse Robert showed 
 no trace of bitterness or resentment. In those 
 five years there’s not one word or act that his 
 most devoted friends would wish to strike 
 from the record though he was refused am- 
 nesty, though he was indicted for treason, 
 though he was disenfranchised and was, till a 
 year before his death, a man without a 
 country. 
 
 “ ‘A poor old Confederate,’ Lee described 
 himself and marveled when the people re- 
 ceived him everywhere with ovations and 
 crowded around him to do him honor. ‘Marse 
 Robert’ they called him lovingly. What 
 other general famous in history can boast such 
 a title?” 
 
 The captain ceased. Again his hand 
 reached out toward the faded stars and bars. 
 He gazed intently at the autographed picture 
 of Lee. 
 
LEE’S BIRTHDAY 21 
 
 Ellen looked up with eyes suspiciously 
 bright. 
 
 “You mustn’t think,” she said, “that we 
 don’t honor him too. If you could only have 
 heard the applause when Lee walked on to 
 the stage in the play Abraham Lincoln! You 
 remember how just after Appomattox a 
 crowd of Washington people gathered in 
 front of the White House to serenade the 
 president and Lincoln made them a speech re- 
 joicing that the war was over and then turned 
 to the band and called out, ‘Play Dixie! 
 We’ve a right to it now!’ Well, it’s the same 
 with Robert E. Lee. Here in Richmond you 
 say Lee the Virginian. All through the 
 South they say Lee the Confederate general. 
 Why don’t we all call him Lee the American?” 
 
THE FEAST OF LANTERNS 1 
 
 THE TENTH OF FEBRUARY 
 
 Very, very early this morning Wang Tzu 
 and her sister wakened. Noiselessly they 
 slipped out of the women’s quarters with their 
 mother. Dawn had not yet touched the sky 
 with rose and gold. Tzu shivered as they 
 hurried to the temple to pray. 
 
 When the old sundial warned them that 
 eight o’clock was near they flitted back from 
 prayers to rice. For after that hour the men 
 w r ould seek the gods with gifts of lotus 
 flowers. 
 
 Today Wang Tzu is wearing her best robe 
 of violet satin embroidered with lemon chry- 
 santhemums. It is slashed open above a 
 vest and trousers of delicate green tied with 
 silver cords, each ending in a pearl. 
 
 i The “Feast of Lanterns” is a movable holiday like our 
 Easter or the Jewish new year. Books of travel vary greatly 
 in giving its date, but it is always in February. It is the 
 fifteenth of the first month of the old Chinese calendar. 
 
 22 
 
CHINA 
 
 23 
 
 She glances up at her mother. How she 
 sways on her tiny feet, like a lily in the wind! 
 How lovely her new robe is — brocade of jade 
 green with dark blue flower-shaped em- 
 broidery, over trousers of orange silk! 
 
 Over the whole house, over all the court- 
 yards where live Tzu’s uncles and cousins 
 there is today a hum of merriment. Every 
 one is glad and gay. For of all the many 
 holidays in China, this is the one most loved, 
 the day when the spirits of the dead return. 
 
 “Remember,” says the grandmother, “they 
 are here threading their kindly, silent way 
 through the crowd. They are watching and 
 enjoying everything.” 
 
 In the grass and in the garden paths 
 bundles of joss sticks are burning. Little 
 hills of white ash heap up as the children slip 
 in fresh bundles before the first ones go out. 
 Incense burns for the honored guests, for no 
 unpleasant smell must offend their nostrils. 
 F or them the fire-crackers crackle out in great 
 bursts and the drums beat and rattle to scare 
 away the devils, lest they injure or annoy the 
 Wang ancestors. 
 
 For days and weeks Tzu’s grandmother has 
 been preparing for this festival. She sent the 
 
24 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 servants to the lantern shops. Lanterns 
 shaped like animals, like men, like ships they 
 chose, such fragile things. 
 
 “The place was so crowded,” Sun Moy de- 
 scribed it to the two girls, “it was hard to get 
 out without crushing my purchases. So I 
 hoisted them on a bamboo pole and squeezed 
 my way through. Time after time I did so, 
 for I bought more than two hundred. A 
 splendid feast we shall have this year !” 
 
 For days too the kitchens have buzzed as the 
 cooks made sweetmeats for this holiday. 
 There are flat, round, crisp mooncakes 
 sweetened with honey. 
 
 “Mountains of them!” is Tzu’s description 
 when she stops trying to count them. “They’re 
 heaped up in thousands on grandmother’s 
 lacquer trays. I can’t miss the first batch 
 that Mother gave to the greedy kitchen gods 
 licking their fat lips so hungrily: that was to 
 make sure that the rest will not be tough.” 
 
 With the mooncakes were made the small 
 balls of mincemeat covered with sugar. As 
 round as a billiard ball they are and about two- 
 thirds as large. A perfect, snowy white they 
 must be, and made with the greatest care, for 
 they are a part of the ceremony. And when 
 
CHINA 
 
 25 
 
 the feast day comes every household eats them 
 in unbelievable quantities. 
 
 Yesterday every one — mothers and children 
 and servants— helped string the lanterns like 
 garlands from tree to tree. Criss-cross they 
 go in every courtyard, till Tzu declares her 
 grandmother owns miles of lanterns. There 
 are all the new ones Sun Moy brought from 
 the city shops. There are some that are heir- 
 looms. 
 
 “Why do you keep them put away with 
 your jades and bronze, Grandmother?” Tzu 
 asked as one after another the delicate things 
 of gauze and jewels were brought out. 
 
 “Why not?” was the answer. “They are 
 almost as valuable.” 
 
 Inside a Chinese house one thing of beauty 
 never jostles against another. One flower in 
 a fine vase and the room is adorned. But 
 outside for this feast of lanterns there is the 
 most lavish decoration. Every tree, every 
 shrub, every bridge, every point from which 
 something can hang is trimmed with streamers, 
 with artificial flowers, with strings of gilt, with 
 festoons of lanterns. The whole place throbs 
 with color, for the Chinese love bright hues 
 and have wonderful skill in combining them. 
 
26 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 Wherever she looks Tzu’s eyes see lanterns. 
 They decorate a carved stone seat. They 
 trim a pretty balcony. They hang from the 
 fantastic railing of a garden bridge. Lan- 
 terns, lanterns everywhere! 
 
 Only one spot is without them — the silk- 
 worm houses. The light and the heat of the 
 candles might creep in and harm the delicate 
 worms. Instead the houses are trimmed with 
 rich scented flowers, for silkworms love sweet 
 fragrance and are nourished by it. And at 
 night the fireflies will hang their jeweled 
 lights about the thatched houses and make a 
 break in the wilderness of lamps. 
 
 The whole day is one long holiday packed 
 with pleasure. There are sports to watch — 
 juggling and wrestling. There are a pageant 
 and a play, given by actors from a city theater. 
 And all the time children and grownups 
 alike munch their mincemeat balls. 
 
 For the little folks there are gay balloons. 
 Some are tied to the glass bracelets on their 
 wrists. Some are held by strings in little 
 yellow hands. Some Ting and Tzu set free. 
 From these balls filled with gas hang delicate 
 little chimes of bells whose soft music tinkles 
 down between the crackling of the fireworks. 
 
CHINA 
 
 27 
 
 But now twilight is coming. The great 
 throbbing hour of all the festival is at hand — 
 the procession of lanterns. Tzu looks up at 
 the sky, a velvet blue powdered with brilliant 
 stars. She watches the servants lighting all 
 the lanterns in the courtyard. “Criss-cross, 
 criss-cross for miles!” she repeats to herself. 
 From every bough of every tree in the garden 
 lanterns hang that the spirits moving about 
 their old homes may have light to see. 
 
 It is time for the procession to start. 
 
 “How gaily dressed the bearers are!” Tzu 
 says to her grandmother. “But why are their 
 faces all so serious and grave?” 
 
 “It is a solemn festival, child. They know 
 the meaning of their task. But hush now, 
 they are coming into sight.” 
 
 F rom the great gates at the entrance of the 
 estate the procession of lanterns slowly 
 approaches. First is a group of little boys 
 each carrying two swaying, gauzy lamps filled 
 with the incense of burning sandalwood. 
 Then a long line of older boys. In twos, in 
 threes, in wide ranks they come. Here one 
 walks alone to show the beauty of some rare 
 lantern. 
 
 How beautiful they are! How odd! No 
 
28 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 two alike! In all of China no flower grows 
 that is not shown here. Every fruit is pic- 
 tured, every jewel cut into some exquisite 
 shape. Some lanterns are painted, some are 
 wonderfully embroidered. It takes an artist 
 a year to decorate one of them. For all their 
 fragile surface some are so heavy that they are 
 slung on stout bamboo poles resting on the 
 shoulders of two men. 
 
 Who could describe all the lanterns in this 
 procession to honor the spirits of the dead? 
 There are birds and gilded fish, beasts from 
 the jungle, tame farm animals. There are 
 squirrels and cranes, ducks and eagles and pea- 
 cocks. There are orange buds and flowers, 
 wistaria and cacti, clusters of grapes and snow- 
 capped mountains in red eruption. There are 
 warships and barges of state. There are tem- 
 ples and gods and dancing girls and mandarins 
 and babies in their tall cradles. And every 
 lantern is brilliant with rich colors. 
 
 “Oh, oh! See that lovely tulip!” cries out 
 Tzu. 
 
 “And the chrysanthemum just behind it!” 
 exclaims her sister. 
 
 “There comes the larkspur — blue and rose. 
 And the little humming birds!” 
 
CHINA 
 
 29 
 
 Most of the time the children watch quietly, 
 breathlessly. But when Tzu sees a marvelous 
 lantern shifting to another shape at a slight 
 touch of wind she whispers to her grand- 
 mother, “Look, look! How is it made — that 
 rose changing to a rose-pink gull? What 
 skill it must take!” 
 
 Before her very eyes the red tulip changes 
 to a cluster of cherries dangling just out of 
 reach. The gentian becomes a bird in flight. 
 The kittens play with a ball. 
 
 Such marvels of lanterns! Some roll 
 along on the ground and yet keep lighted. 
 Some gallop like a horse. Some whirl like a 
 top. There are ships that sail. There are 
 soldiers that march. 
 
 In silence the children and the grownups 
 look on. When some lantern of special 
 beauty passes they give a great sigh of pleas- 
 ure. For all the noise of fire-crackers and 
 drums, it has been a day of solemn courtesy to 
 welcome the homecoming of the dead. 
 
 For more than two thousand years this 
 feast of lanterns has been celebrated in China. 
 When the moon was at the first full round of 
 the year the devout Chinese used to pray and 
 sacrifice — a formal rite of worship in the tern- 
 
30 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 pie. After eight hundred years the lanterns 
 were added. Gradually the day changed from 
 a strict religious beginning to this home festi- 
 val. 
 
 Suddenly the silence is broken. Among the 
 children there is a happy whispering. 
 
 “The dragon! The dragon is coming!” 
 
 Dragons have already passed, to be sure, 
 along with waxen lilies and scarlet trumpet 
 flowers. But this is the great dragon. To 
 announce its approach boys let loose hundreds 
 of balloons coated with phosphorus. The 
 darkness of the night is radiant with light. 
 
 Forty, fifty, sometimes a hundred men 
 carry the dragon. They are clad in gray to 
 show as little as possible. The splendid, ter- 
 rible monster seems to move along without 
 their help. He’s a gorgeous beast, horned 
 and scaly, with painted sides. 
 
 Every few minutes he turns his awful head. 
 He opens wide his terrible jaws and breathes 
 out a soft mist of perfume. And with the 
 rain of scent shower down the writhing 
 monster’s gifts — sweetmeats and little mas- 
 cots made of twisted jade, that bring good luck 
 to the recipient. 
 
 Slowly the dragon passes on its long, fiery 
 
CHINA 
 
 31 
 
 way. Then comes a band of little girls sing- 
 ing a goodnight hymn. The feast of lanterns 
 is ended. 
 
 “Ah, it’s over,” Tzu says to herself half 
 sighing. “This is the end of our three weeks 
 of holidays. Tomorrow lessons begin again 
 — school seven days a week till next New 
 Year’s. But the feast of lanterns — each time 
 this beauty-keeping festival is richer and love- 
 lier than before. It’s our offering to the spirit 
 of our ancestors. It is the very soul of China !” 
 
THE LAWYER FROM THE 
 MIDDLE WEST 
 
 THE TWELFTH OF FEBRUARY 
 
 “How did you happen to come to Amer- 
 ica?” 
 
 “Ah,” is the eager reply from Italian or 
 Pole or Russian, “I heard of your Lincoln. 
 So I come to his country.” 
 
 “What biography is most asked for by 
 your boys and girls?” 
 
 “Lincoln’s,” promptly says the librarian in 
 the children’s room. “That shelf is always 
 empty. One lad recommends his life to an- 
 other with the comment, ‘This is a great book! 
 Why, he was one of us — a great man, but like 
 us!’ ” 
 
 In the history of notable men the world 
 over there’s nothing to equal the growth of 
 Abraham Lincoln’s fame. But in February 
 of 1809 who would have guessed that the baby 
 in that one-roomed log cabin in Kentucky 
 would have his birthday celebrated every- 
 
 32 
 
LINCOLN’S BIRTHDAY 
 
 33 
 
 where? Who would have foretold greatness 
 and fame for a boy whose father could not 
 read or write, who was poor and shiftless, rest- 
 lessly moving from one place to another and 
 dropping a little lower with each move? 
 
 Who would have said there was much of a 
 future for a lad who for nine years went to 
 school whenever there was a school to go to, 
 but not twelve months in all? Yet at seven- 
 teen Abraham Lincoln had learned to read 
 and to read well, to write a clear hand, and to 
 solve problems in arithmetic not going be- 
 yond the “rule of three.” With this meager 
 foundation he kept on studying and pulled 
 himself out of ignorance, as he put it, by his 
 own bootstraps. 
 
 In that household pinched by poverty can- 
 dles were a great luxury. By the flickering 
 glow of the fire the boy worked his sums using 
 a wooden shovel for a slate and a bit of char- 
 coal for pencil. When the shovel was covered 
 with figures he shaved it off and began again. 
 
 Lying on the floor with a blazing pine knot 
 for his light he read eagerly, hungrily. The 
 six books he owned he devoured over and over 
 and over — ADsop’s Fables , Pilgrim’s Progress, 
 Robinson Crusoe, Plutarch’s Lives, Euclid 
 
84 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 and the Bible. He read all the books he 
 could beg or borrow, no matter if securing one 
 meant a walk of twenty miles and back. He 
 read at night after long hours of work. He 
 read every spare minute during the busy day, 
 while he walked down the road, while he rested 
 his horses at the end of a long furrow. 
 
 “What are you reading, Abe?” a farmer 
 asked the lanky boy cocked up on a haystack 
 with a book. 
 
 “I’m not reading, I’m studying.” 
 
 “Well then, what are you studying?” 
 
 “Law.” 
 
 “He spoke as proud as Cicero,” the farmer 
 described years afterward. 
 
 F rom the time he was a small boy he worked 
 and worked hard. He helped his father clear 
 the forest, plow the ground, plant and harvest 
 corn. For the neighbors he did all sorts of 
 odd jobs. Pioneers began to say that he was 
 above the average backwoods lad. He was 
 gentle and tender and loving. Would the or- 
 dinary ten-year-old child, some months after 
 the death of his mother, have written to a min- 
 ister begging him to come one hundred miles 
 and conduct the delayed funeral service at her 
 grave ? 
 
LINCOLN S BIRTHDAY 
 
 85 
 
 Would an ordinary boy have borrowed 
 Farmer Crawford’s copy of Weems’ Life of 
 Washington and been so thrilled by its story 
 of heroism and sacrifice and love of country 
 that he slept with it under his pillow, to start 
 reading the moment he awoke? Would the 
 ordinary lad, when a storm came up and driv- 
 ing rain blew in through the chinks in the logs 
 and soaked pillow and boy’s head and the 
 precious book as well, have gone sadly to the 
 owner and asked how he could pay for it? 
 
 “Three days’ com shucking,” said Craw- 
 ford. 
 
 The boy was honest. He was shrewd too. 
 
 “Will that pay for the book or only for the 
 damage?” 
 
 “Well, it’s not much account now to me or 
 anybody else. You pull fodder three days 
 and the book is yours.” 
 
 What promise of greatness was there in any 
 of the careers tried by this young man in 
 homespun clothes? He did whatever work 
 was offered in the neighborhood — splitting 
 fence rails, making shelves and chairs, mind- 
 ing the baby. He clerked in a store and won 
 the nickname “Honest Abe,” because he 
 walked two miles to give a woman six cents 
 
36 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 more in change. He was elected captain of a 
 company of volunteers in a war with the Black 
 Hawk Indians. No hint here that he would 
 one day be commander-in-chief of army and 
 navy. He was surveyor and postmaster in 
 New Salem. He owned half of a store that 
 failed, his partner died, and left Lincoln to 
 meet the debts — the “national debt” he used to 
 call that twelve hundred dollars, and paid the 
 last cent of it after seventeen years of struggle 
 and saving. 
 
 Twice he took a cargo down the Mississippi 
 on a flatboat. He saw slaves toiling on the 
 plantations and on the river wharves. He 
 saw them herded like cattle, torn from their 
 families and their homes, chained and sold at 
 auction. The scenes in the slave market at 
 New Orleans made him sick at heart. As they 
 turned to go Lincoln said to his friends with 
 an earnestness that they remembered, “If I 
 ever get a chance to strike a blow at slavery, 
 I’ll hit it hard!” What opportunity would 
 come to him? No suggestion here that he 
 would one day free four million slaves. 
 
 Between times he read what law books he 
 could get. In 1836 he was admitted to the 
 bar and the next year moved to Springfield, 
 
LINCOLN’S BIRTHDAY 
 
 37 
 
 the capital of the state. Riding into town on 
 a borrowed horse, with all his worldly posses- 
 sions packed into his saddle-bags he set up as 
 a lawyer. Men said, “He’ll never make a 
 good lawyer — he’s too honest.” 
 
 From one town to another he rode the cir- 
 cuit. He began to win cases because he 
 thought things through to the end, because he 
 was logical and could make others see his rea- 
 soning, because he was absolutely fair. A 
 wonderful knack he had of winning men over 
 to his opinion. Slowly but surely he forged 
 to the front in his profession. 
 
 “Where did that long-armed creature come 
 from,” asked Stanton when he and Lincoln 
 met in a Cincinnati court in 1855, “and what 
 can he expect to do in this case?” 
 
 A long-legged, long-armed country lawyer, 
 why celebrate his birthday? 
 
 For years the question of slavery had been 
 the most important matter before the nation. 
 It was definitely settled by Congress in 1820, 
 then again in 1850. But it would not stay 
 settled. Again and again it pushed its way 
 into public affairs. During his one term in 
 Congress Lincoln voted forty times or more 
 for the Wilmot Proviso and other bills touch- 
 
38 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 mg on the question of slavery in the territory 
 taken from Mexico. 
 
 In 1854 came Stephen A. Douglas, the 
 “little giant,” with a new scheme. Let the 
 people of each state decide for themselves 
 whether they would have slavery or no. At 
 the passage of this bill a storm of indignation 
 rose in the North. Back home again in Il- 
 linois Douglas made a speech defending the 
 new law. All eyes turned to Lincoln to an- 
 swer it. 
 
 He had definitely given up active interest 
 in politics. He was not a candidate for a sec- 
 ond term in Congress. He had settled down 
 to work hard at the practise of law. Now 
 thoroughly roused he threw himself into the 
 struggle. He replied to Douglas in a speech 
 where his clear reasoning swept his listeners 
 along. Here was a leader for the men op- 
 posed to the Kansas-Nebraska bill. 
 
 A new political party came into being. 
 Among themselves the Republicans disagreed 
 on nearly every question. They thought alike 
 on just one thing. They were against the 
 spread of slavery. For the first election, that 
 of 1856, they had little time to organize and 
 lost the day. 
 
LINCOLN’S BIRTHDAY 
 
 39 
 
 Two years later a senator was to be chosen 
 in Illinois. Douglas wanted to be reelected. 
 The Republicans of the state fixed on Lincoln 
 to run against him. All Illinois listened to the 
 seven debates where these two men spoke from 
 the same platform. All the North was listen- 
 ing to this new leader who showed a grasp of 
 national affairs. 
 
 “Lincoln’s a dangerous man,” said a life- 
 long Democrat. “He makes you believe what 
 he says in spite of yourself!” 
 
 He was an orator whose simple reasoning 
 they could follow. He pressed the brilliant 
 Douglas with plain, blunt questions and de- 
 manded plain answers. He stood for what he 
 knew to be right and said to his friends, anx- 
 iously urging him not to make the house- 
 divided-against-itself speech, “But it is true. 
 I’d rather be defeated with that speech than 
 win without it.” 
 
 Southerners too were listening. In this 
 country lawyer from the middle west, the “big 
 giant,” they sensed a distant threat to slavery. 
 They stored up the answers Douglas made to 
 his plain questions, answers that offended the 
 South and made the “little giant” unpopular. 
 
 Some of these questions Lincoln’s friends 
 
40 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 begged him not to ask. Douglas would an- 
 swer them in such a way that even men op- 
 posed to slavery would vote for him and that 
 would make him senator. 
 
 “Yes,” was the reply, “but I’m after larger 
 game. If Douglas so answers he can never 
 be president. 1860 is worth a hundred of 
 this!” 
 
 He was right. Douglas won the senator- 
 ship. But the debates made Lincoln known. 
 Men were curious to see and hear for them- 
 selves this obscure man from Illinois. He was 
 invited to speak in several eastern cities. At 
 Cooper Union in New York, before the lead- 
 ers of the new party, he made an address that 
 was famous indeed. 
 
 “When Lincoln rose to speak,” says a man 
 who was there that February night, “I was 
 greatly disappointed. He was tall — oh, how 
 tall ! — and so angular and awkward that I had 
 for an instant a feeling of pity for so ungainly 
 a man. His clothes were black and ill-fitting, 
 badly wrinkled — as if they had been jammed 
 carelessly into a large trunk. His bushy head, 
 with the stiff black hair thrown back, was bal- 
 anced on a long and lean head-stalk; and when 
 he raised his hands in an opening gesture, I 
 noticed that they were very large. 
 
LINCOLN S BIRTHDAY 
 
 41 
 
 “He began in a low tone of voice, as if he 
 were used to speaking outdoors and was afraid 
 of speaking too loud. I said to myself, ‘Old 
 fellow, you won’t do. It’s all very well for the 
 wild west, but this will never go down in New 
 York.’ But pretty soon he began to get into 
 his subject; he straightened up, made regular 
 and graceful gestures ; his face lighted as with 
 an inward fire — the whole man was transfig- 
 ured. I forgot his clothes, his personal ap- 
 pearance. Presently forgetting myself, I was 
 on my feet with the rest, yelling like a wild 
 Indian, cheering this wonderful man. 
 
 “In the close parts of his argument you could 
 hear the gentle sizzling of the gas burners. 
 When he reached a climax the thunders of ap- 
 plause were terrific. When I came out of the 
 hall, my face glowing with excitement and my 
 frame all aquiver, a friend with his eyes aglow 
 asked me what I thought of Abe Lincoln, the 
 rail-splitter? I said, ‘He’s the greatest man 
 since St. Paul!’ And I think so still.” 
 
 This Cooper Union speech was published 
 in the papers. It was printed and sent broad- 
 cast as a pamphlet. It was like a bugle-call 
 for the election of 1860. It gave a leader to 
 the Republicans not of his home state, but of 
 the nation. 
 
 Over all the other candidates Lincoln was 
 
42 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 nominated for the presidency. As he had 
 prophesied the answers to his questions made 
 it impossible for the South to vote for Doug- 
 las. The Democratic party split and had two 
 tickets. After an exciting campaign Abra- 
 ham Lincoln was elected by the largest popu- 
 lar vote ever given up to that time for any 
 president. Some men had begun to call him 
 great. But the United States has had many 
 presidents whose birthdays pass with no cele- 
 bration. 
 
 That was a critical time in our history. The 
 southern states were threatening to leave the 
 Union, to secede and form a government based 
 on slavery. Let them go, let them go in peace, 
 urged many in the North. Keep them in the 
 Union, argued conservative business men, give 
 in to them on some points, but keep them. All 
 those trying months between election and in- 
 auguration Lincoln could do nothing. 
 
 Indeed after he became president he must 
 still wait in patience. If there was to be war 
 he did not wish to strike the first blow. By the 
 fourth of March of 1861 seven states had 
 seceded and formed the Confederate States of 
 America. Four others joined them. Their 
 
LINCOLN S BIRTHDAY 
 
 43 
 
 Congress passed a bill organizing an army. 
 Still Lincoln waited. 
 
 On the twelfth of April the Confederates 
 bombarded Fort Sumter in the harbor of 
 Charleston and war began. Now that the 
 seceding states had fired the first shot Lincoln 
 lost not a moment. He called for seventy-five 
 thousand men. More than five million volun- 
 teered. The patriotism of the North caught 
 fire. The people had been vacillating and un- 
 settled. Now they took up Lincoln’s cry, 
 “The Union! The Union!” 
 
 The South had at the start many advan- 
 tages. The sympathy of foreign countries was 
 theirs. They had been making ready for war. 
 They had great supplies of ammunition. 
 They had trained officers to call on. Their 
 one chance was to win quickly. 
 
 If the war was protracted the North had re- 
 serves of strength that must in the long run 
 bring victory. Twenty-two million people 
 against nine, and of these more than a third 
 were slaves. Only a patient man could await 
 the outcome of such a struggle. But Lincoln 
 was patient. 
 
 Infinite patience he had with his cabinet, 
 
44 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 men who had run against him for the nomina- 
 tion, now his advisers through four years of 
 crisis. Able men they were, but varying 
 widely in their views. 
 
 “You can never drive such a team,” warned 
 the president’s old friends. 
 
 Nobody but a Lincoln could have kept cor- 
 dial relations with Seward, the scholarly sec- 
 retary of state, a man of notable ancestry and 
 fine presence, who had a notion he could con- 
 trol a backwoods president and keep him 
 straight, who offered to outline a government 
 policy, who even prepared an inaugural ad- 
 dress. Who else could have managed Stan- 
 ton who had declared he’d make a president 
 of Lincoln, but in the end was himself made 
 a good secretary of war? Only a master of 
 men could have shut his eyes to all personal 
 issues among his cabinet members and held 
 them to the great task before them — of saving 
 the Union. 
 
 F rom the very first Lincoln saw that though 
 the war had been caused by slavery, its sup- 
 pression was not the primary purpose of the 
 conflict. It became suddenly a secondary is- 
 sue and fell into the background. First in im- 
 portance was the preservation of the Union. 
 
LINCOLN S BIRTHDAY 
 
 45 
 
 “My course,” said Lincoln to members of 
 a peace congress, “is as plain as a turnpike 
 road. It is marked out by the constitution. 
 I am in no doubt which way to go.” 
 
 Lincoln was patient too with his generals. 
 Untrained in the art of war he was, some peo- 
 ple said, a better commander than any in the 
 federal army. Day and night he studied the 
 campaigns in the east and middle west. On a 
 large wall map he followed every step of the 
 northern troops. He pored over military 
 books. Often he spent the night by the tele- 
 graph in the war office, intent on the last dis- 
 patches from the front. So practical was his 
 knowledge that he often surprised his officers 
 by his directions and suggestions. 
 
 In 1861 Lincoln had no great general, no 
 one to offset Lee. It was the war itself that 
 made them. Six different men he tried in 
 command of the army of the Potomac, the 
 pride and hope of the North. Five of them 
 were misfits. The first adopted a do-nothing 
 policy when the people demanded “On to 
 Richmond!” He wore away his own reputa- 
 tion and the patience of president and country 
 by his endless delays, his marching and coun- 
 termarching, his requests for more men, more 
 
46 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 horses, more munitions, more everything. 
 
 “If General McClellan has no use for the 
 army of the Potomac, I’d like to borrow it for 
 a little while,” said Lincoln. 
 
 In the end the president found his man, a 
 quiet man from his own state, a man who could 
 go ahead with cool persistency of purpose, 
 with the grip of a bulldog. Grant had ene- 
 mies who urged Lincoln to remove him. 
 
 “But I need this man,” was the reply. “He 
 fights.” 
 
 “Oh, Mr. Lincoln, he drinks.” 
 
 “Do you know what brand of whiskey? I’d 
 like to send a barrel of it to each of my other 
 generals.” 
 
 With all the help of an able cabinet, with 
 the loyal support of the North, with generals 
 and soldiers who could fight and win, or lose 
 and fight again, the burden of the four years 
 of war rested on Abraham Lincoln. Llis was 
 the final responsibility for success or failure. 
 Each new crisis he met with the same unflinch- 
 ing courage, the same patience, the same gen- 
 tleness. 
 
 Week by week, month by month his grave 
 face took on a new and deeper sadness. It 
 was thin and drawn. The dark gray eyes were 
 
LINCOLN S BIRTHDAY 
 
 47 
 
 heavy and sunken. All the light had gone 
 out of them. Slower grew his step, more bent 
 his shoulders. In every line of his great body 
 there was utter weariness. His work was 
 never finished. The burden and the worry 
 were always with him. 
 
 The only relief he found was in his fund of 
 stories. Once at a cabinet meeting he read 
 aloud a passage from a humorous book. His 
 listeners were amazed, then disgusted. Not 
 one of them smiled. 
 
 “Gentlemen,” he asked with a sigh, “why 
 don’t you laugh? With the fearful strain 
 that is upon me night and day, if I did not 
 laugh I should die. You need this medicine 
 as much as I do.” 
 
 The two outstanding events of the war were 
 Lee’s invasions of the North: the battle of 
 Antietam followed by Lincoln’s emancipation 
 proclamation giving freedom to the slaves; and 
 the battle at Gettysburg followed by the pro- 
 motion of Grant who replied, when asked how 
 he proposed to win, “By pegging away and 
 wearing them down.” 
 
 Many enemies Lincoln had. They criti- 
 cised his management of the war. They 
 urged him to free the slaves immediately. 
 
48 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 They condemned his every act. Opposition 
 he had aplenty — from quarrelsome members of 
 the cabinet, from an endless procession of of- 
 fice seekers and callers, from the press with 
 comments that were frequently hostile and bit- 
 ter. 
 
 Another presidential election occurred in 
 1864. There was a loud demand for Lincoln’s 
 withdrawal from office. From all sides his 
 enemies attacked him. Some newspapers 
 tried to prove him unfit for the presidency. 
 Shortly before the election Grant’s troops suf- 
 fered fearful losses in Virginia. Against the 
 advice of his friends Lincoln took the unpopu- 
 lar step of drafting half a million more men. 
 
 But the people, the common people who 
 make up the backbone of the nation, had come 
 to know him and to love him. They laughed 
 at his eccentricities and despite them idolized 
 him. In their homes and around the camp 
 fires they told his stories. They were im- 
 pressed by his comparison of the North to the 
 old Dutchman who refused to swap horses in 
 the middle of the stream. This man so firm, 
 so modest, so tender, so full of quaint stories 
 and homely midwestern phrases, this man was 
 one of them. “Father Abraham” they called 
 
LINCOLN’S BIRTHDAY 49 
 
 him, the father of a new nation reborn from 
 the bloodshed and suffering of civil war. 
 
 By a vast majority he was reelected in 
 November. “This,” telegraphed Grant, “is 
 worth more to the country than a battle won.” 
 
 Finally the tide turned. The beginning of 
 the end came into sight. In a fairly steady 
 stream the North began to receive news of suc- 
 cesses. One by one Lincoln’s four plans had 
 been carried through: to win over the border 
 states and thus prevent the spread of the re- 
 bellion; to open the Mississippi cutting the 
 South in two; to blockade the southern ports 
 so that no cotton could be shipped to Europe, 
 no purchases made there be brought into the 
 country; and last but not least, the plan that 
 took the longest to carry through and cost the 
 most in lives and money, to capture Richmond. 
 
 “We’ve had a hard time of it, Mary,” the 
 president said to his wife as they drove out that 
 balmy April afternoon when the air was filled 
 with the scent of lilacs, “since we came to 
 Washington. But the war is over and with 
 God’s blessing we may hope for four years 
 of peace and happiness and then we’ll go back 
 to Illinois and pass the rest of our lives in 
 quiet.” 
 
50 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 Dedicate ourselves to the great task remain- 
 ing before us, he had said on the battlefield 
 of Gettysburg. In his second inaugural ad- 
 dress he described that task: “With malice 
 
 toward none, with charity for all, with firmness 
 in the right as God gives us to see the right, 
 let us bind up the nation’s wounds.” 
 
 But Lincoln was not to be the leader of the 
 people in the second part of this work. A few 
 hours after that drive with his wife he was 
 struck down by the bullet of an actor who 
 pushed into his box at the theater. All night 
 he lay unconscious and died the next morning. 
 His life unfinished? Through fearful storms 
 he had brought the ship of state safely into 
 port and dropped anchor. 
 
 A great loss to the North, a loss to the world, 
 most of all an irreparable loss to the South 
 who had no better friend than this country 
 lawyer from the middle west. 
 
 In one bright flash the people saw how great 
 a man had fallen. Instead of waving flags 
 and cheers of victory they had only tears and 
 sorrow. As the funeral train draped in black 
 passed on its long journey to his old home in 
 Springfield, men and women stood silent with 
 bared heads to do him honor. Kings and 
 
LINCOLN S BIRTHDAY 51 
 
 emperors paid their tributes. Soldiers and 
 workingmen, children and ex-slaves sent their 
 pennies to build a monument to Lincoln. 
 
 By whatever standard men measure he is 
 one of the greatest — this American born in a 
 log cabin, whose life stood for human free- 
 dom, for greater justice, more good will and 
 love among mankind. Since 1865 all the 
 world has been raising memorials in his honor. 
 Many a town in Italy, many a village in dis- 
 tant Poland has a street called after him. 
 
 Statesmen and patriots study his life that 
 they may the better serve their country. Men 
 and women resolve to imitate his beautiful 
 charity, his public spirit. Children learn his 
 story, inspired to a like effort, no matter what 
 their environment. The shelf in the public 
 library where the Lincoln books belong is al- 
 ways empty. 
 
 As Sam says to Enrico, “He’s a great man. 
 But he’s just one of us.” 
 
THE GOOD SAINT VALENTINE 
 
 THE FOURTEENTH OF FEBRUARY 
 
 In the city of Rome there once lived an 
 emperor named Claudius. He is known in 
 history as Claudius the Cruel. 
 
 Near his palace was a beautiful temple 
 where served the priest Valentine. Dearly the 
 Romans loved him. They thronged into the 
 temple to hear his words. Before the fire 
 that burned always on the altar they knelt to 
 ask his blessing. Rich and poor, wise and ig- 
 norant, old and young, patricians and common 
 people flocked to Valentine. 
 
 In the Roman empire wars broke out. 
 Claudius summoned the citizens forth to bat- 
 tle. Year after year the fighting continued. 
 Many of the Romans were loath to go. The 
 married men did not want to leave their fami- 
 lies. The younger men did not wish to leave 
 their sweethearts. The emperor was angry 
 when soldiers were too few. He ordered that 
 
 no more marriages should be celebrated, that 
 
 52 
 
VALENTINE’S DAY 53 
 
 all engagements must be broken off immedi- 
 ately. 
 
 Many a young Roman went off to the wars 
 in sorrow, leaving his love. Many a Roman 
 maiden died of grief as a result of this de- 
 cree. 
 
 Now the good priest Valentine heard of 
 the emperor’s command and was very sad. 
 When a young couple came to the temple, 
 secretly he united them in marriage in front 
 of the sacred altar. Another pair sought his 
 aid. In secret he wedded them. Others 
 came and quietly were married. Valentine 
 was the friend of lovers in every district of 
 Rome. 
 
 But such secrets could not be kept for long. 
 At last word of Valentine’s acts reached the 
 palace. Claudius the Cruel was angry, ex- 
 ceedingly angry. He summoned his soldiers. 
 
 “Go! Take that priest in the temple! 
 Cast him into a dungeon! No man in Rome, 
 priest or no, shall disobey my commands!” 
 
 Valentine was dragged from the temple, 
 dragged away from the altar where stood a 
 young maiden and a Roman youth, ready to 
 wed. Off to prison the soldiers took him. 
 
 His friends, and the good priest had many, 
 
.54 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 many friends, interceded with Claudius. In 
 vain. Well was he named Claudius the Cruel. 
 In a dungeon Valentine languished and died. 
 vHis devoted friends buried him in the church 
 of St. Praxedes. When you go to Rome you 
 can see the very place. It was the year 270, 
 on the fourteenth of February. 
 
 Another story says that Valentine was one 
 of the early Christians in those far-away days 
 when that meant danger and death. For 
 helping some Christian martyrs he was seized, 
 dragged before the prefect of Rome and cast 
 into jail. There he cured the keeper’s daugh- 
 ter of blindness. When the cruel emperor 
 learned of this miracle he gave orders that 
 Valentine should be beheaded. 
 
 Long years before 270, when Rome was first 
 founded it was surrounded by a wilderness. 
 Great hordes of wolves roamed over the coun- 
 tryside. Among their many gods the Romans 
 had one named Lupercus who watched over 
 the shepherds and their flocks. In his honor 
 they held a great feast in February of each 
 year and called it the Lupercalia. 
 
 Even after the wilderness had been cleared 
 away and there was no longer such danger 
 
VALENTINE’S DAY 
 
 55 
 
 from the wolves, the people kept this feast 
 day. One of the amusements at the Luper- 
 calia was a lottery where the names of Roman 
 maidens were placed in a box and drawn out 
 by the young men. The girl whose name he 
 drew each man accepted as his love — for a year 
 or longer. 
 
 After Christianity was firmly established the 
 priests wanted the people to forget the old 
 heathen gods. But they did not wish to do 
 away with all their feasts and sports. So they 
 kept the Lupercalia and called it Valentine’s 
 day. 
 
 Into the lottery they put the names not of 
 maidens, but of different saints. The name 
 drawn out by each young man was called his 
 valentine. Throughout the year he must imi- 
 tate the holy life of his saint. 
 
 During the medieval days of chivalry names 
 of English maidens and bachelors were put 
 into the box and drawn out in pairs. Each 
 couple exchanged presents. The girl became 
 the man’s valentine for thit year.. On his 
 sleeve he wore her name. . It was his bounden 
 duty to attend and protect her. 
 
 This old, old custom of drawing names on 
 the fourteenth of February was considered a 
 
56 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 good omen in love affairs. Often it foretold 
 a wedding. F or since the beginning of things 
 this has been lovers’ day, a time for love mak- 
 ing, for giving and receiving love tokens. 
 
 So far as history tells us the first modern 
 valentines date from the early years of the fif- 
 teenth century. The young French duke of 
 Orleans, captured at the battle of Agincourt, 
 was kept a prisoner in the Tower of London 
 for many years. To his wife he wrote poem 
 after poem, real valentines. About sixty of 
 them remain. You may see some among the 
 royal papers in the British Museum. 
 
 Flowers as valentines are nearly two hun- 
 dred years later. A daughter of Henry IV 
 of France gave a party in honor of St. Valen- 
 tine. Each lady received a beautiful bouquet 
 of flowers from the man chosen as her valen- 
 tine. 
 
 Thus from Italy and France and England 
 has come the pretty custom of sending our 
 friends loving messages on this day, With 
 flowers, with heart-shaped candies, with lacy 
 valentines whose frills and furbelows hide the 
 initials of the sender we honor the good priest 
 who disobeyed Claudius the Cruel.- 
 
THE MASTER OF “MOUNT 
 VERNON” 
 
 THE TWENTY-SECOND OF FEBRUARY 
 
 “Forward, march!” 
 
 “Halt! Present — ” 
 
 “Time to come in, boys,” called Mr. Hobby, 
 the school master. “A real general little 
 George Washington is,” he said to himself as 
 the child put away his wooden sword and Brit- 
 ish flag. “Well, his great-grandfather was 
 colonel in the Virginia militia. I guess he 
 comes naturally by leadership.” 
 
 Captain and general the boy was in marches 
 across the school yard, in parades and bloodless 
 battles. English soldiers fighting French and 
 Indians, his little army won victory after vic- 
 tory. He was still the leader when there were 
 other games than war. 
 
 “Let’s ask George to settle it,” the boys 
 would say when a dispute arose. “He’s al- 
 ways generous and just and fair.” 
 
 During his boyhood on the Virginia plan- 
 57 
 
58 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 tation there was constant talk of battles. A 
 third war between France and England had 
 begun. On the frontiers was the never-end- 
 ing fight with the red men. Lawrence Wash- 
 ington, George’s half-brother, had been a sol- 
 dier. From him and his friends, officers in 
 the British navy and in the militia of Virginia, 
 the boy heard many a tale of adventure on land 
 and sea. Eagerly he listened to their stories 
 of the French wars, and heard them prophesy 
 more fighting with their old enemy to win the 
 Ohio country, as they called the land just over 
 the mountains. 
 
 “I like George’s high spirit and honor. 
 He’s a fine lad,” said Lawrence Washington 
 and after their father’s death took him under 
 his care. Through his friends in the navy he 
 obtained for his young brother a warrant as 
 midshipman. But Mrs. Washington would 
 not give her consent, though the story is that 
 his luggage had already been sent aboard a 
 man-of-war anchored in the Potomac. 
 
 “No, my son, you are too young. The navy 
 offers many dangers and temptations. What 
 future does it give a middy?” 
 
 Much of Washington’s training was due to 
 his mother. Love of order, power to govern 
 
WASHINGTON’S BIRTHDAY 59 
 
 he learned from her. Strictly and sensibly she 
 brought up her children. She demanded 
 prompt obedience. On courage and manli- 
 ness and honor she laid great stress. Is there 
 a better foundation on which to build char- 
 acter ? 
 
 In his last year of school he studied survey- 
 ing. This knowledge helped him later in his 
 work on the plantation, in charting camps and 
 forts, in choosing the site for a new capital 
 city. The work of surveying land in that new 
 country would give him plenty of occupation 
 and bring him in money. 
 
 In March of 1748 Washington changed sud- 
 denly from a sixteen-year-old schoolboy to a 
 man ready for his first important work in the 
 world. There was a full month of hard and 
 rough frontier living while he surveyed the 
 Fairfax estates. Through forests and over 
 mountains he and his companions carried then' 
 instruments, crossing icy streams, shooting 
 wild turkeys for their food, sleeping in tent or 
 cabin or under the stars. 
 
 “Do your work thoroughly,” his mother had 
 said over and over till it was impressed upon 
 him. 
 
 The reports of this wilderness trip, with 
 
60 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 maps and figures showing clearly the Fairfax 
 properties, so pleased the owner that he helped 
 his young friend secure a license as public sur- 
 veyor. Till he was twenty Washington con- 
 tinued in that work, often away from home 
 for weeks at a time. He built a reputation 
 as a skilled woodsman and an accurate sur- 
 veyor. His figures became part of the county 
 records and are still used in Virginia. 
 
 Lawrence Washington was ill and resigned 
 his command in the colonial army. For his 
 brother he secured the post of military in- 
 spector with the rank of major. A few 
 months later he died leaving to George the 
 guardianship of his daughter and “Mount 
 Vernon,” his great plantation on the Potomac^ 
 Giving up surveying the young man took up 
 these new responsibilities. Already he had 
 shown that he could be depended on in an 
 emergency. 
 
 The emergency was not long in coming in 
 Virginia. 
 
 On the frontier affairs grew threatening. 
 The English kings had granted lands in Amer- 
 ica reaching indefinitely westward from the 
 Atlantic. N ow the F rench working their way 
 down from their settlements in Canada and 
 
WASHINGTON’S BIRTHDAY 61 
 
 planning to unite them with New Orleans by 
 a chain of forts, were entering the Ohio coun- 
 try. Both nations realized how valuable this 
 section would one day be — valuable for col- 
 onies, for trade with the Indians. 
 
 Rumors came that the French were build- 
 ing a fort on the Ohio river and persuading the 
 red men to help them against the English. 
 The governor of Virginia determined to de- 
 mand an explanation from the invaders. 
 
 “I must learn exactly where the fort is and 
 how strongly it’s defended,” he said. “So my 
 messenger must be a trained soldier to report 
 all that he sees. He must be able to make 
 friends with the Indians. He must be a good 
 woodsman, able to travel through the forests 
 at this time of year, for winter’s just begin- 
 ning. Where can I find such a man?” 
 
 Some one suggested Major Washington. 
 “Just the one! I’ll send him at once.” 
 The very day the young man received his 
 orders he began making preparations — engag- 
 ing guides, collecting a supply of horses and 
 provisions, of guns and ammunition. The 
 journey was seven hundred and fifty miles 
 through almost unbroken wilderness. The 
 letter to the French commander at Fort Du- 
 
62 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 quesne was delivered and an answer received. 
 
 The return trip was still more difficult. 
 There was deep snow. The pack horses gave 
 out. With knapsack and gun Washington set 
 off on foot, was led astray by his Indian guide, 
 was jerked overboard into freezing water when 
 crossing a swift stream on a raft ; but pressing 
 steadily forward in the face of the worst pos- 
 sible weather he brought the Frenchman’s re- 
 ply to the governor. 
 
 In the Ohio country the young major had 
 kept both eyes and ears open. He wrote such 
 a good account of his journey with such de- 
 tailed information about the fort and its gar- 
 rison, the surrounding country and the In- 
 dians that it was published as a government 
 record. 
 
 The French defied the English and refused 
 to withdraw. This meant war, war carried on 
 by the colonies alone for a year, then taken up 
 by the mother country. Veteran soldiers were 
 sent over from England. General Braddock 
 was appointed to take Fort Duquesne. Now 
 this dashing Irish officer was an experienced 
 commander, but knew nothing of the Ohio 
 country. For the Virginia troops he felt only 
 contempt. 
 
WASHINGTON S BIRTHDAY 63 
 
 With an absurd amount of baggage for 
 those forest roads, Braddock set out. With- 
 out sending any skirmishers ahead he crossed 
 the river some eight miles from the fort, 
 though he had been warned of the danger of 
 ambuscades. In their brilliant scarlet uni- 
 forms, their arms glittering, flags flying, 
 drums gaily beating, his troops swept forward. 
 The straggling Virginians in their hunting cos- 
 tumes made a sorry showing in comparison. 
 
 With admiring eyes Washington who was 
 serving on Braddock’s staff, looked on as the 
 British swung across a wide clearing fringed 
 with wooded hills. Suddenly there was a loud 
 cry. The crack of a rifle followed. From 
 the forest on the heights came a storm of bul- 
 lets. Into the deadliest sort of ambush they 
 had marched. 
 
 At the first volley the colonials spread out, 
 each man for himself, taking cover behind trees 
 in Indian fashion. 
 
 “Shelter your men in the same way,” sug- 
 gested Washington. 
 
 “No, hiding behind trees is like cowardice 
 in the face of the enemy,” was the proud an- 
 swer. 
 
 The panic-stricken men were reformed into 
 
64 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 shoulder-to-shoulder ranks. They were a per- 
 fect target for the concealed foe. By the score 
 they were shot down. Disciplined veterans 
 of England, they streamed away in head- 
 long flight. Braddock fell sorely wounded. 
 Washington took over the command and or- 
 ganized the retreat. Only his courage and 
 coolness saved the army from utter destruc- 
 tion. 
 
 A month later he was given command of all 
 the forces of Virginia. The next years were 
 full of vexatious, often thankless work. The 
 long frontier must be defended from Indian 
 attacks. Money was lacking. His soldiers 
 were raw material. Sometimes the colony’s 
 officials neglected this branch of the service. 
 
 During these months Washington learned 
 the truth of the old saying, “It’s a poor work- 
 man who constantly finds fault with his tools.” 
 He formed the habit of making one thing 
 serve when he couldn’t get another. He en- 
 tered this war with the F rench a daring young 
 officer. He came out of it a well-disciplined 
 commander. Much he had learned from the 
 British. He knew that they were not invinci- 
 ble. 
 
 In 1758 Washington met Martha Custis, a 
 
WASHINGTON’S BIRTHDAY 65 
 
 guest at a friend’s house where he stopped to 
 dine. At first sight they fell in love. The 
 wedding was a brilliant scene, for this young 
 colonel was a person of importance in Vir- 
 ginia. The governor was there in his gold and 
 scarlet costume. There were English and col- 
 onial officers in dress uniforms. There were 
 ladies in picturesque draped gowns. The 
 bride wore white silk shot with threads of sil- 
 ver. The groom was in a blue suit trimmed 
 with scarlet. 
 
 They lived in Williamsburg, the capital of 
 the colony, that Washington might attend the 
 meetings of the House of Burgesses to which 
 he was elected during his last campaign. 
 As soon as these official duties permitted they 
 moved to “Mount Vernon.” 
 
 Life there was not a time of luxury and idle- 
 ness. Washington studied the best methods 
 of raising crops. He planned new buildings 
 and kept the farm accounts. He made tools 
 and looked after the welfare of his slaves. He 
 was ambitious to make his the model planta- 
 tion of Virginia. Such was his reputation for 
 honesty and fairness that barrels of flour 
 marked “George Washington — Mount Ver- 
 non” were passed without inspection at foreign 
 
66 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 ports and brought the highest prices. He 
 found time to hunt with his old friends, to fish 
 and shoot, to attend dinners and dances in 
 the neighborhood, to be host to countless per- 
 sons. Seldom did he miss a meeting of the 
 Burgesses. He took the keenest interest in 
 public questions. 
 
 The matter most discussed was no longer a 
 contest with the French, but England’s treat- 
 ment of her colonies. Washington was in the 
 House when a new member, a young lawyer 
 named Patrick Henry, made a bold speech 
 warning the king not to tax America without 
 her consent, even if the money was to be used 
 for the debts of the late war. Against the 
 stamp act there was such fierce opposition that 
 the British abandoned it. For a while it 
 seemed as if there would be no further diffi- 
 culty. 
 
 Then trouble broke out anew. Massa- 
 chusetts was interfered with — a military gov- 
 ernor, soldiers quartered upon the people, the 
 Boston massacre came in quick succession. 
 More and more serious grew the quarrel be- 
 tween colonies and mother country. Clouds 
 of war were gathering. Washington was slow 
 in making up his mind which side to take ; but 
 
WASHINGTON’S BIRTHDAY 67 
 
 once he decided there was no shadow of turn- 
 ing. 
 
 A congress representing all the colonies was 
 summoned to meet in Philadelphia. As one 
 of her seven delegates Virginia sent Wash- 
 ington. He had seldom spoken in the House 
 of Burgesses. Now he made one eloquent 
 speech : 
 
 “I will raise a thousand men, enlist them at 
 my own expense, and march myself at their 
 head for the relief of Boston.” 
 
 .But that Congress of 1774 contented itself 
 with sending a petition to the king explaining 
 the difficulty and demanding fair treatment. 
 
 Neither king ‘nor Parliament paid any at- 
 tention to the petition. Reluctantly the col- 
 onies prepared for war. Washington was 
 chosen to go to a second Continental Congress 
 and showed his opinions by wearing to Phila- 
 delphia the old blue and red uniform which he 
 had had when commanding the forces of Vir- 
 ginia. Martha Washington stood on the steps 
 of “Mount Vernon” and watched him ride 
 away with Henry and Randolph. 
 
 “I hope you’ll all stand firm,” she called 
 after them. “I know George will. God be 
 with you, gentlemen,” 
 
68 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 W eary of fruitless protest, weary of wait- 
 ing for faint promises of reconciliation, Con- 
 gress decided that action was necessary. First 
 of all the country needed a commander-in- 
 chief for the army near Boston. It was from 
 New England that the suggestion came that 
 this general should be Washington, a Virgin- 
 ian. Nothing, argued John Adams, would 
 unite the colonies so much as to have a south- 
 erner commanding northern soldiers. Unani- 
 mously Congress voted for him. 
 
 Modestly he accepted the appointment say- 
 ing, “I beg it may be remembered by every 
 gentleman in this room that I this day declare, 
 with the utmost sincerity, I do not think my- 
 self equal to the command I am honored with. 
 As to pay, sir,” he turned to Hancock, the 
 president, “I beg leave to assure the Congress 
 that I do not wish to make any profit from it. 
 I will keep an exact account of my expenses. 
 Those I doubt not, they will discharge and that 
 is all I desire.” 
 
 To his wife he wrote, 
 
 “You may believe me, my dear Patsy, when I 
 assure you in the most solemn manner that, so far 
 from seeking this appointment, I have used every 
 
WASHINGTON S BIRTHDAY 69 
 
 endeavor in my power to avoid it. But as it has 
 been a kind of destiny that has thrown me upon this 
 service, I shall hope that my undertaking it is 
 designed to answer some good purpose.” 
 
 In June he started north to take command 
 of the army. All along the way men and 
 women pressed forward to see him. They 
 held their children up to look upon him. 
 With new strength and courage they turned 
 back to their work, for beneath that stately 
 form and military bearing they saw an hon- 
 esty and sincerity of purpose that stirred their 
 hearts to patriotism. 
 
 The task to which Washington had set his 
 hand was gigantic. Against the thirteen col- 
 onies was England, the mightiest empire in 
 the world. She had naval and military 
 powers unequalled. She had a record of cen- 
 turies of triumph and conquest. Counting 
 eight hundred thousand slaves the colonists 
 were less than four million souls and of these 
 a goodly number were loyal to the king. Con- 
 gress had no power to prosecute the war 
 vigorously and supply all that was needed. 
 There was no team work. There was no na- 
 tional spirit. 
 
70 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 Under the famous elm tree in Cambridge 
 Washington drew his sword and took com- 
 mand of the army. From that moment the 
 Revolution was embodied in him. In spite 
 of defeats and trials, in spite of every obstacle 
 he carried it through to final victory. 
 
 First of all he must make an army. The 
 soldiers were brave and enthusiastic, but wholly 
 undisciplined. He taught and trained his 
 men, he fixed the rank of his officers and 
 soothed their jealousies, he hunted the coun- 
 try over for powder, hiding his shortage by a 
 Yankee trick of barrels of sand that were 
 merely topped with powder. More than once 
 before his very eyes the army melted away, for 
 Congress enlisted troops for only three months 
 or six. 
 
 The seizing of Dorchester Heights was 
 number one of Washington’s great successes. 
 Wagons and timber, tools and bales of hay 
 his men moved at night up to the hills over- 
 looking Boston. Almost by magic their de- 
 fenses grew. In the morning the British saw 
 ramparts and cannon on Dorchester Heights. 
 Rubbing their eyes they looked again. 
 
 “It’s like the work of Aladdin’s genie,” ex- 
 claimed one of the redcoats. 
 
WASHINGTON’S BIRTHDAY 71 
 
 Remembering their heavy losses at Bunker 
 Hill they waited instead of attacking. Soon 
 shot and shell sang over Boston. Staying 
 would mean destruction. Quickly they took 
 to their ships and sailed away to Halifax, 
 leaving behind them two hundred cannon and 
 all their military supplies. Without loss of 
 life or property a brilliant victory was won. 
 
 An equally brilliant move Washington made 
 in New Jersey the following December. In 
 pitchy darkness, through grinding ice the 
 Americans crossed the Delaware river. In a 
 blinding snow they marched nine miles to 
 Trenton. So badly equipped was the army 
 that many of the men nearly barefoot marked 
 their journey by bloody footprints. 
 
 “Our guns are wet,” an officer reported to 
 Washington as they neared the town. 
 
 “Use the bayonet. Trenton must be 
 taken.” 
 
 Dawn found the little army stumbling 
 along, marching with heads bent against the 
 driving sleet. The steaming horses strained 
 at the cannon and floundered in the mud at 
 every step. Splashing, trampling the men 
 slipped along in the slush with grim determina- 
 tion. They said not a word, but now and 
 
72 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 again looked at their officers marked with bits 
 of white paper on their hats. 
 
 At eight o’clock that Christmas morning the 
 town was suddenly awakened by the sound of 
 firing. The Hessian soldiers were still asleep 
 after their prolonged festivities on Christmas 
 Eve. They had no time to form in line of 
 battle as their colonel ordered. 
 
 The American guns were wheeled into posi- 
 tion. With fatal precision they were fired into 
 the huddled ranks of the enemy. The colonel 
 fell mortally wounded. His regiment broke 
 and fled. Confusion reigned. All exits from 
 the town were blocked. The bewildered Hes- 
 sians were caught as in a net. Their officers 
 raised their hats on their swords in token of 
 surrender. 
 
 In less than an hour the battle of Trenton 
 was over. With captured horses and cannon, 
 with almost a thousand prisoners, Washing- 
 ton recrossed the Delaware. In twenty-four 
 hours he was safe again in his own camp. 
 Success two. 
 
 To punish and capture Washington after 
 this battle came Lord Cornwallis with an army 
 of eight thousand. Not far from the Ameri- 
 can position they camped for the night. 
 
WASHINGTON’S BIRTHDAY 73 
 
 “At last we’ve run down the old fox,” 
 Cornwallis said to his officers, “and we’ll bag 
 him in the morning.” 
 
 But Washington left a few men to keep his 
 camp fires burning brightly and to work nois- 
 ily with their shovels as if they were throwing 
 up earthworks. By a roundabout road he led 
 his whole force to Princeton. In the morn- 
 ing he attacked the British rear and in a sharp 
 fight crushed it. 
 
 Cornwallis could scarcely believe his eyes 
 when he saw that the fox had vanished. He 
 could scarcely believe his ears when he heard, 
 carried far on the cold, still, winter air, the 
 sound of firing at Princeton. 
 
 “This three weeks’ campaign,” said Fred- 
 erick the Great of Prussia, accounted the 
 greatest soldier of that day, “is the most bril- 
 liant of the century. The young American 
 general has opened a fresh chapter in the art 
 of war. England hasn’t a man to match him.” 
 
 The fourth great success of Washington 
 was in Virginia, the last act of the play. He 
 issued false orders for a vigorous movement 
 against New York and let them fall into the 
 hands of the British general. Then cutting 
 loose from the Hudson by forced marches he 
 
74 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 went to Yorktown. With an army of sixteen 
 thousand, counting the French under Lafay- 
 ette, he pressed Cornwallis hard. 
 
 The French fleet prevented escape by sea. 
 Day by day the lines were drawn tighter about 
 the besieged town. With pickaxes and shov- 
 els the Americans threw up entrenchments be- 
 hind which they crept nearer and nearer the 
 imprisoned garrison. Night and day Wash- 
 ington kept them at this work. Every detail 
 he supervised so that no time, no strength was 
 wasted. 
 
 Two of the British redoubts were taken by 
 storm. Cornwallis made heroic attempts to 
 break through the lines. Once his scheme was 
 foiled by a terrific storm, again by the watch- 
 fulness of the Americans. His defenses were 
 battered to the ground. Beneath the steady 
 fire of fifty guns the town itself was crumbling 
 to pieces. 
 
 One morning a red-coated drummer boy 
 mounted one of the ramparts. Beside him ap- 
 peared an officer with a white flag. Firing 
 ceased instantly. Blindfolded the flag-bearer 
 brought to Washington a proposal to surren- 
 der. On the nineteenth of October, the day 
 that we call Lafayette Day, Cornwallis sur- 
 
WASHINGTON’S BIRTHDAY 75 
 
 rendered to the fox he had expected to bag 
 near the Delaware. 
 
 If his successes numbered only four Wash- 
 ington had to his credit defeats as great as vic- 
 tories, with results as important. His retreat 
 across New Jersey, the failures at Brandy- 
 wine and Germantown which kept the Eng- 
 lish so occupied that they could send no help 
 to Burgoyne at Saratoga, living through that 
 terrible winter at Valley Forge, meeting with 
 calm dignity the Conway plot against him, 
 achieving a half-success at Monmouth where 
 the traitorous Lee ordered a retreat and upset 
 the well-laid plans for the day — these were 
 disasters which proved his skill in war. 
 
 Some writers say indeed that Washington’s 
 greatest victory came in the trying months be- 
 tween Yorktown and peace. The unpaid 
 army was discontented and restless. A meet- 
 ing of officers was called to make a plan to 
 force Congress to help them. A weak man 
 would have kept silent. A rash one would 
 have suppressed the meeting. Neither rash 
 nor weak Washington quietly took control of 
 the movement. Time and place for the 
 gathering he announced. 
 
 “Gentlemen,” he said opening a paper and 
 
76 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 taking out his glasses, “y° u see I have grown 
 both gray and blind in the service of my coun- 
 try.” 
 
 Then he read an appeal to their patriotism, 
 begging them to remain loyal and obedient, 
 true to their past. The scheme was aban- 
 doned. The officers swore allegiance to the 
 government. 
 
 The army loved Washington and believed in 
 him. They wanted him to command in peace 
 as well as war. They proposed that he be- 
 come dictator or king. He had fought not to 
 win place or glory for himself, but for a great 
 cause. He refused these suggestions. With 
 the treaty of peace he resigned his commission 
 and returned quietly to “Mount Vernon.” 
 Glad he was to be a private citizen again. 
 
 But during the next four years he did not 
 hold aloof from public affairs. Anxiously he 
 watched the feeble confederation breaking to 
 pieces. Instead of one nation there threat- 
 ened to be thirteen weak states, each jealous 
 of the other twelve. 
 
 What few men of that time dreamed of 
 Washington foresaw — instead of thirteen col- 
 onies a great nation enlarging to the west- 
 ward, crossing the mountains, reaching to the 
 
WASHINGTON S BIRTHDAY 77 
 
 mouth of the Mississippi. He was an empire 
 builder, but this should be an empire of the 
 people enjoying liberty and independence. 
 This national view he put before the leaders 
 of the country by letter over and over again. 
 
 A call was sent out for a convention to meet 
 at Philadelphia and form a more perfect union 
 among the states. Washington was one of 
 the Virginia delegates. Unanimously he was 
 chosen president. Four to seven hours a day, 
 from May to September the members worked, 
 considering all the plans brought forward for 
 a government that would give the country or- 
 der instead of chaos. 
 
 The constitution they drafted was for- 
 warded to Congress and then sent to the thir- 
 teen states to be ratified. Early in 1789 came 
 the election of the first president. All eyes 
 were turned to George Washington. When 
 the votes were counted every one was for him. 
 
 He thought himself a general, not a states- 
 man. “I’d rather be on my farm than em- 
 peror of the world,” he said. But the nation 
 was calling him and he obeyed though it meant 
 tasks more difficult than he had faced during 
 the long war. As he had borne the burden of 
 the Revolution he now took up the burden of 
 
78 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 bringing a new government into existence. 
 
 Standing on the balcony of Federal Hall in 
 Wall Street, New York City he took the oath 
 of office. 
 
 “Long live George Washington, president 
 of the L T nited States!” cried Robert R. Liv- 
 ingston who as chancellor of the state had given 
 him the oath. From the crowd a great shout 
 went up while cannon announced the first in- 
 augural ceremonies. 
 
 The new government, said Washington, 
 must win the respect of the people as well as 
 their loyalty. It must be administered with 
 firmness, with prudence, with consideration. 
 It must be dignified, neither haughty nor ser- 
 vile. It must have as its advisers the best 
 brains of the nation. He selected as his cab- 
 inet Hamilton and Jefferson, Knox and Ran- 
 dolph — all young and very able men with spec- 
 ial knowledge of the work they were to do. 
 
 At the cost of his popularity for the time 
 Washington kept peace with England and 
 later with France. Twenty years without 
 war, he argued, were necessary for a nation 
 that was still weak, like a sick man convalesc- 
 ing after a long illness. 
 
 How great was the total of his twenty years 
 
WASHINGTON’S BIRTHDAY 79 
 
 of public service! As commander-in-chief he 
 won the liberties of the country. As president 
 he laid deep and strong the foundations on 
 which a mighty nation could be solidly built. 
 He made the new government respected in 
 other lands. 
 
 For a century and more Americans have 
 kept his birthday and have called him 
 “father.” Nor is his influence bounded by the 
 United States. From him Lafayette learned 
 the principles of liberty and free government 
 that France made use of in forming her repub- 
 lic. San Martin read the story of his life and 
 was inspired to the mighty effort that estab- 
 lished three republics in South America. 
 Simon Bolivar impressed with the spirit of 
 Washington won the liberty of five countries. 
 
 The nation’s capital city, a great state in the 
 west, many counties and cities bear his name. 
 For the beautiful, tall shaft that forms his 
 monument in the District of Columbia a stone 
 was sent by each state in the Union. 
 
 “First in war,” said Light Horse Harry 
 Lee; then a greater thing, “first in peace;” and 
 greatest of all, “first in the hearts of his coun- 
 trymen.** 
 
THE CHILDREN’S PARADISE 
 
 THE THIRD OF MARCH 
 THE FIFTH OF MAY 
 
 “There!” exclaimed Takumi-San as he 
 closed the bronze door of the godown, “that’s 
 the last of the honorable dolls.” 
 
 He turned from the black, fireproof build- 
 ing, handed several more packages to the serv- 
 ants and followed them into the largest room 
 of the house. It was really three rooms 
 thrown together, with the paper walls and 
 screens pushed back. 
 
 Since the children went off to bed two hours 
 ago father and mother have been busily at 
 work. Around two sides of the room the 
 servants put up shelves like flights of steps, 
 so that every object would show to the best 
 advantage. The mother covered them with 
 scarlet cloth and decorated them with flowers, 
 here a spray of azalea in a porcelain jar and on 
 the other side cherry blossoms in a beautiful 
 bowl. 
 
 On the raised platform under a painted 
 80 
 
JAPAN 
 
 81 
 
 silken scroll, the place of honor, she put the 
 effigies of the Mikado and his wife. Very old 
 these dolls are, for they belonged to her great- 
 great-grandmother. Very precious they are, 
 so precious that they aren’t kept in the house, 
 but in the godown at the end of the garden, 
 where neither fire nor earthquake can harm 
 them during all the year. V ery beautiful they 
 are too, dressed in the antique costume of the 
 court, gorgeous robes stiff with silver and gold 
 embroidery and brilliant in color. 
 
 One by one, handling them most carefully, 
 Takumi-San and a trusted servant unwrap the 
 numerous parcels and pass the precious con- 
 tents up to the mother. On the shelves she 
 arranges the Mikado’s possessions — all tiny, 
 all beautiful. There are all the articles used 
 by their imperial majesties — the furniture 
 needed to deck a royal palace ; a splendid lac- 
 quered table service, complete with trays and 
 bowls, with sake pots, rice buckets and tea 
 cups; bullock carts, the carriages of old Japan; 
 and for the empress all kinds of toilet articles 
 • — high combs and gilded flowers for her hair, 
 mirrors, and special utensils for blackening the 
 teeth and shaving the eyebrows, two customs 
 that used to be followed. 
 
82 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 In front of the lacquered thrones the father 
 places the five court musicians in their splen- 
 did robes of office, each with a miniature in- 
 strument. On the lower shelves are still other 
 dolls — generals and soldiers and porters, 
 nobles and tall princes with impassive faces, 
 dressed in stiff, white clothes, ’riksha men, 
 dancers, all in the costume of a long past day; 
 and a mother doll with her baby on her back, 
 inside the blue kimono, its head sticking out 
 over her shoulder exactly as live babies are 
 carried on the sunny streets of Tokio. 
 
 “How delighted Maru will be tomorrow!” 
 the mother says. “Here are the honorable 
 dolls we bought for her on her first third of 
 March. Eight years ago that was, and now 
 she’s such a big girl and wears a wide, stiff 
 obi (sash) of shining brocade, tied with a huge 
 bow. And there are my first dolls that my 
 father chose for me, and the furniture that be- 
 longs with them. That pair was my grand- 
 mother’s. Yes, if Maru cares for them lov- 
 ingly and reverently and takes them with her 
 to her new home when she’s married and hands 
 them on to her little daughter, it won’t be 
 long before our children’s children have nearly 
 
JAPAN 88 
 
 as many dolls as there are in the prince’s col- 
 lection.” 
 
 “Yes,” agrees Takumi-San. “Now look! 
 here’s the pair I chose for the new girl-baby.” 
 He opens a parcel carefully wrapped in silk 
 paper. “They’re not made of wood like com- 
 mon dolls. They’re enameled clay. Here’s 
 her tea set and furniture, and the dolls’ clothes 
 — four kimonos apiece, and these wadded ones 
 embroidered with plum blossoms to match the 
 baby’s name. 
 
 “For it’s little Ume’s first feast of dolls. 
 We must celebrate it for her. Of course we 
 want to start her collection with specially nice 
 dolls. Just look at this little jinrikisha!” He 
 sets down the tiny two-wheeled cart with a 
 man in a blue blouse to draw it. “And that 
 bundle is bedding — tiny wooden pillows, green 
 mosquito curtains, and a pair of silk quilts — all 
 the things that little Ume herself has. Last 
 of all, for their meals this table,” and he un- 
 wraps a piece of inlaid ebony four inches 
 square. 
 
 “What did you buy for Maru?” asks the 
 mother after she has examined the baby’s pres- 
 ents. 
 
84 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 “Here it is — see!” 
 
 Package after package the father unrolls. 
 On the lowest shelf he sets out a country house 
 with gardens and farm, with a tiny lake and 
 pine trees, complete to the last details of brass 
 fire-box and charcoal basket, of chrysanthe- 
 mums and smiling gardeners. 
 
 At last after hours of work dolls and fur- 
 niture, dishes and toys are arranged. Every- 
 thing is ready for the great feast. Tomorrow 
 the third of March is the greatest day of the 
 year for their two little girls. And for the 
 parents no trouble is too great if it will but 
 add to their happiness. 
 
 “Olnayo, ohayo ” (Good morning) says 
 Maru early the next morning as she greets 
 her father and mother and kneels before them, 
 bowing till her forehead touches the floor. 
 “Ohayo,” she repeats reverently to the effigies 
 of the emperor and empress in their gorgeous 
 clothes. 
 
 How many, many dolls there are to be ex- 
 amined and admired! Dolls that had be- 
 longed to her mother and grandmother and 
 great-grandmother, dolls that have been in the 
 family over a hundred years! Little dolls 
 only four inches high, big dolls that measure 
 
JAPAN 
 
 85 
 
 four feet! Dolls that are triumphs of art, 
 whose makers took no account of labor or time ! 
 Dolls that walk or dance, baby dolls that creep, 
 dolls, dolls, everywhere ! They were not made 
 to be handled carelessly and broken, for the 
 Japanese think that if many generations love 
 a doll it may have a soul loved into it. 
 
 For a week or more Maru and her girl 
 friends have seen the gay toy shops filled with 
 dolls and playthings for girls. Not a boyish 
 toy was to be seen. There are complete 
 houses for dolls, with painted screens and 
 scrolls for the wall, dresses of rich material, 
 and every article a Japanese doll could need 
 or desire. Some of these toys are very cheap, 
 for even the poorest coolies celebrate this feast 
 and buy in the toy shops for their daughters. 
 Some are very costly, made by hand, of lac- 
 quer or porcelain, of gold or silver, of silk and 
 satin. Many of them are very, very beautiful. 
 In the houses of some of the nobles a doll col- 
 lection is worth a fortune. 
 
 One of the favorite dolls of Maru, because 
 it’s her favorite story, is the effigy of Kato 
 Kiyomasa, a celebrated warrior who lived 
 about 1600. He carries a miniature spear to 
 remind the children how single-handed he slew 
 
86 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 a wild tiger in Korea, while he was leading 
 the Japanese soldiers to victory. 
 
 But her brother likes best the four samurai, 
 warriors with two swords apiece. He begs 
 their father to tell them once more the tale of 
 the forty-seven Ronins who avenged their lord 
 at Yedo. 
 
 “Oh!” cries Maru walking about the room 
 and gazing from prime minister to a noble 
 with his retainers, from the empress to the 
 mythological Raiko, the giant-killer of Japan, 
 “this is better than history lessons at school! 
 Why, here in our own house we can see just 
 how these great persons looked and how they 
 dressed and what they owned.” She bends 
 low before the Mikado and adds, “And it tells 
 us to be loyal to our emperor.” 
 
 With deep and graceful bows she brings to 
 their majesties tiny lacquered trays with their 
 meal of dried rice and sweets, of cake and 
 sake. A special sake this is, brewed for this 
 feast day, a thick, white wine made out of 
 pounded rice. 
 
 All day long the little girl plays with these 
 marvelous dolls and their belongings. In her 
 toy kitchen where she has every utensil needed 
 to cook the finest of Japanese feasts, she pre- 
 
JAPAN 
 
 87 
 
 pares and serves them sumptuous meals. She 
 pours out their tea and gives them each five 
 cups — the number that signifies special honor. 
 She dresses and undresses some of them. She 
 rolls up their quilts and puts away the tiny 
 wooden pillows on which they sleep. Every 
 action of her mother she mimics, in the most 
 polite and formal manner. Such a wonderful 
 day it is ! 
 
 This feast of the third of March dates far, 
 far back to the time when the emperor and 
 empress were never seen by the people, but 
 only by a few favored courtiers. The loyal 
 Japanese made images of them, dressed in 
 robes of state, surrounded by all the luxury and 
 pomp due to their rank. In the spring when 
 the cherry trees blossomed these images were 
 displayed throughout the land. Eagerly the 
 people gave them homage, for they believed 
 the Mikado was descended from the god-kings 
 who once ruled over the country. 
 
 Watching his little daughter serve the royal 
 dolls and the old Kioto nobles, Takumi-San 
 says to his wife, “It’s a marvelous day, this 
 feast of dolls. It makes every Japanese child 
 loyal to the Mikado.” 
 
 “Yes,” she replies, “but it does something 
 
88 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 more. It interests a girl in housekeeping. 
 It’s a training in ceremony and etiquette. 
 Only think how much of etiquette and cere- 
 mony our little Maru will have to observe 
 when she grows up ! She’ll learn more 
 quickly, because of this third of March, how 
 to prepare food and drink and serve them to 
 grownup people in the neatest and politest 
 way. Yes, you’re right. This is the day of 
 days for Japanese daughters.” 
 
 For three days the honorable dolls will stay 
 in the house for the family and their friends 
 to enjoy the exhibition. Then they’ll be 
 packed away, each in a wrapping of heavy, 
 silken paper, and the parcels put into the go- 
 down for safe keeping. 
 
 Other dolls Maru has, any number of them, 
 to play with all during the year. Dearly she 
 loves them and great fun she has in taking care 
 of them. But the honorable dolls that are 
 taken out for this festival are her precious and 
 prized possessions. 
 
 Father and mother, baby sister and Maru’s 
 brother Yoshi all have some share in the feast 
 of dolls and its splendid exhibition. But it is 
 primarily a girls’ day. To balance it the boys 
 
JAPAN 
 
 89 
 
 have a day of their own. It comes some two 
 months later after the March winds and all 
 the fun with kites ; where in all the world are 
 there such wonderful kites as in Japan — sing- 
 ing kites and fighting kites, kites like dragons 
 or eagles or butterflies or babies? On the fifth 
 of May comes the boys’ festival which they call 
 “the feast of flags.” 
 
 Does it mean the flag, the sweet iris which 
 grows on the river’s edge and along the sides of 
 the swampy rice-fields, which is used in Japan 
 for decorations of many kinds? Or does it 
 mean the white flag with the rising sun, the 
 standard of old Japan? 
 
 On the fifth of May, say the old legends, an 
 evil-disposed ogre named Oni comes down 
 from the heavens to bring some great harm to 
 little boys. Only one thing he fears — sharp 
 swords. Japanese lads go down to the river or 
 to a rice-field, and pick the long, sword-shaped 
 leaves of the iris. Everywhere they use it on 
 this feast day. They place it on the table. 
 They festoon it about the house. They hang 
 it 'along the eaves. They wear it on their 
 heads with the sharp leaves projecting from 
 their foreheads like horns. For all he is an 
 ogre, Oni is a great coward. He’s afraid of 
 
90 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 horned boys. He’s afraid to enter a house 
 with swords hanging from the eaves. Thus a 
 handful of green leaves frightens him away 
 on this Japanese holiday. 
 
 Yesterday Takumi-San put up a tall bam- 
 boo pole in front of his house. Up and down 
 the street his neighbors were placing poles. 
 
 “For the baby boy who has come to my 
 house since the last feast of flags,” says the 
 father who lives next door. 
 
 “For my only son,” says Yoshi’s father 
 proudly. 
 
 “For my four boys,” adds the father across 
 the street as he puts up a fourth pole. 
 
 This morning as soon as the boys said 
 “Ohayo” and ate their rice with their ivory 
 chopsticks they ran outdoors to put up the 
 flags. Everywhere flags must fly today — 
 flags of paper, of cotton cloth, of silk; flags 
 with family crests; flags of Japan; flags with 
 curious designs. 
 
 From the tops of the bamboo poles float 
 perhaps the queerest flags of all. They are 
 made of paper or cotton cloth. They are of 
 every size and color— blue or red or gray, but 
 all of one shape — the shape of a fish called 
 carp. The breeze quickly fills out their hoi- 
 
JAPAN 
 
 91 
 
 low bodies. In the spring wind they flap their 
 tails and wriggle their fins and squirm and 
 dart and flop about in the most natural man- 
 ner. 
 
 For every son, a carp. The younger the 
 boy, the larger the fish. The strange flags 
 swell and rise, shrink and fall as the breeze 
 takes or leaves them. The sheen of their 
 scales glints in the sunlight. The streets are 
 alive with these quaint boys’ banners. They 
 make a fluttering, rustling wave of bright 
 color that floats over the city. 
 
 What does the carp mean to Japanese boys? 
 It can swim against the current. It can leap 
 over waterfalls. Every time a lad looks at 
 his carp he says to himself, “I must be like 
 that — unconquerable ! I must mount over 
 every difficulty. When I see my fish strug- 
 gling with the breeze, the symbol of persever- 
 ance and success in life, I hope I’ll struggle 
 with everything that opposes me. Only thus 
 can I win fame and honor.” 
 
 But on this day of days Yoshi and his 
 friends do more than look at the carp and re- 
 solve to swim against the current. F or weeks 
 the shops have been gay with toys for boys, 
 just as in March they showed only dolls and 
 
92 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 girls’ playthings. Heroes of old Japan, sol- 
 diers and famous warriors and wrestlers — 
 these are the images in the shops now. Many 
 of the models are clad in armor. Their 
 horses are richly caparisoned, pawing the 
 ground as if impatient for the battle. Hel- 
 mets and swords are for sale too, bows and 
 arrows, horns and drums and trumpets, stand- 
 ards and spears and coats of mail. 
 
 In Yoshi’s house there’s an exhibition of 
 warrior dolls with flags and banners. Beside 
 each hero is his crest. In front of them are 
 all kinds of weapons. The food offered them 
 is rice dumplings wrapped in oak leaves, be- 
 cause the oak like the carp is the emblem of 
 strength and endurance. 
 
 Each gay toy warrior, each bright standard 
 has its tale of glory. Stories of these noble 
 ancestors the fathers tell their sons to sow the 
 seeds of self-reliance, of belief in the invincible 
 power of their country. For courage and 
 loyalty are the inheritance of every Japanese 
 boy. Hearing these stories Yoshi and his 
 friends resolve to grow up to be worthy of the 
 brave men who lived before them. 
 
 This feast of the fifth of May, Takumi-San 
 says, goes all the way back to the thirteenth 
 
JAPAN 
 
 93 
 
 century. For seven years Japan had been 
 greatly troubled by expeditions sent against 
 her by Kublai Khan — yes, the same Kublai 
 Khan who was Marco Polo’s friend. In 1281 
 another great army invaded the Mikado’s em- 
 pire. Several battles were fought, but the 
 Japanese could not win a decisive victory. 
 Then as if in answer to their prayers a mighty 
 storm arose. The fleet of the enemy was scat- 
 tered. A last desperate attack the soldiers of 
 the Mikado made. Their foe was completely 
 annihilated. Of a hundred thousand invaders 
 only three escaped to tell their story. 
 
 “The storm was a miracle!” cried the Jap- 
 anese. “The gods intervened to save our 
 country. Let >us have a lasting memorial of 
 this wonderful victory. The fifth of May shall 
 be a holiday.” For more than six hundred 
 years it has been kept by the boys of J apan. 
 
 Among all the soldier dolls Yoshi likes par- 
 ticularly the figures of Shoki-Sama, the strong 
 man who could conquer Oni; of Yoshitsune, 
 the marvelous fencer and general, and his 
 giant retainer; of Jingu Kogo, the brave war- 
 rior empress who, lest the troops should be 
 discouraged, concealed from the army the 
 death of her husband, put on armor and led 
 
94 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 a great campaign against Korea ; and Iyeyasu, 
 the maker of Yedo, whom the Japanese con- 
 sider the greatest ruler the country has ever 
 obeyed, and beside him his famous charger 
 whose tomb is near his master’s in the solemn 
 pines of Nikko; and Toyotomi Hedeyoshi, the 
 greatest adventurer and perhaps the greatest 
 general in the history of Japan, with his 
 unique standard of a bright yellow gourd. 
 
 Yoshi listens breathlessly as he hears once 
 more the story of this man, born in the lowest 
 rank of the people, who became regent of the 
 land, who brought about peace after two hun- 
 dred years of strife, a peace that lasted for 
 two centuries; who when challenged to single 
 combat had no standard to carry on to the 
 field and tore up by the roots a gourd growing 
 by the roadside and used it as a banner. 
 
 Eagerly the lad answers the questions his 
 father puts to test his knowdedge of Japanese 
 history. The example of these heroes he too 
 must follow. He must be brave in battle. 
 He must be persevering in difficulties. Thus 
 only can a Japanese boy repay all that he owes 
 to his father, to the emperor and to Japan. 
 
 Takumi-San gives his son presents on this 
 feast day, just as he did to Maru and the baby. 
 
JAPAN 
 
 95 
 
 But now the gifts are a sword and a set of 
 toys — an arsenal with generals, soldiers on 
 foot and on horse, flags and banners, tents and 
 racks for arms. 
 
 For this festival Yoshi and his friends have 
 several favorite games. In one they form 
 themselves into a daimiyo’s procession (a 
 daimiyo was a native prince, in the olden days, 
 his followers were the samurai) . They choose 
 officers and runners to clear the highroad. 
 They imitate to the last detail the pomp of the 
 daimiyo 3 s train. In the shops the boys can 
 buy all the equipment for such a procession. 
 
 There used to be a very popular game which 
 represented a war between two noble families, 
 rivals in feudal times. All the lads of a town 
 or district were divided into two parties. 
 Sometimes there were several hundred of 
 them, marshalled in squadrons as in an army. 
 The Heiki had white flags, the Genji red. 
 Each boy carried a bamboo sword. On his 
 head he fastened a flat, round piece of earthen- 
 ware. 
 
 The signal was given. The battle com- 
 menced. Slash, slash! went the toy swords. 
 The object was to break the earthen disks on 
 the heads of the enemy. Any soldier whose 
 
96 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 helmet was demolished had to retire from the 
 field defeated, for the broken disk represented 
 a broken skull. The noble whose men had the 
 greater number of disks unbroken won the day. 
 
 Always the contest was exciting. Often 
 boys were seriously hurt in this mimic warfare. 
 Now this game that belongs to the fifth of 
 May is forbidden by the government. 
 
 Instead the Heiki and Genji have a different 
 kind of contest. Each boy has a flag, white or 
 red. In the battle the object is to seize flags 
 from the foe. A boy who loses his must leave 
 the field. The side with the most flags at the 
 end of the struggle is the victor. 
 
 When all the fun is over Yoshi and his 
 friends are tired out. For absolute enjoy- 
 ment do the boys of any other country get so 
 much out of their holidays as Japanese boys 
 from this feast of flags? It’s worth being 
 tired for! 
 
 Japan is called the land of the rising sun, 
 the land of cherry blossoms, of the chrysanthe- 
 mum. But its best name is the children’s 
 paradise. In no other country are there so 
 many fine toys and games for boys and girls. 
 In no other land do the parents give so much 
 time and thought to their children’s holidays, 
 
JAPAN 
 
 97 
 
 or share so fully in their pleasures. Where 
 else do they celebrate with a special day for 
 the girls and a special day for the boys? 
 
 “O-Sayonara!” (Goodbye) call Yoshi and 
 Maru, “O-Sayonarar 
 
THE TORCH BEARER 
 
 MARCH THE SEVENTEENTH 
 
 Green ! Green ! 
 
 Green in the shops, you say. Green candies 
 and green clothes and green carnations and 
 little green flags. And men selling something 
 they call shamrock on the street corner. And 
 you young folks want to know the meaning 
 of it all. So you’ve come to me because you 
 saw me marching in the parade this morning, 
 wearing a sash of green? 
 
 Well, I’ll tell you the best I can. But a 
 poor best I fear me it will be. For while it’s 
 easy enough to tell the story of this holiday, 
 how can an old man put into words all it means, 
 all it stands for to Ireland and to her children 
 all over the world? 
 
 But to begin now, and it’s an Irish bull I 
 begin with, St. Patrick isn’t Irish at all. He’s 
 British, born on the west coast of Scotland, 
 toward the end of the third century. His 
 father was a magistrate in the Roman colony 
 
 98 
 
ST. PATRICK S DAY 
 
 99 
 
 near the mouth of the river Clyde, not so far 
 from Glasgow. His mother was a niece of 
 St. Martin of Tours. 
 
 The father taught the boy all that a Roman 
 citizen should know. The mother taught him 
 to be courteous and knightly, for she brought 
 from sunny France many a memory of courtly 
 manners. So Patrick grew up learning vari- 
 ous things not known in that wdld, savage, 
 northern land. But the chief of them was a 
 knowledge of the Christian faith. Psalms he 
 had to learn and many prayers. Sometimes 
 these lessons seemed dull and uninteresting. 
 
 “I wonder now,” he would think, “if it isn’t 
 pleasanter to be a heathen than a Christian? 
 For they have no psalms to learn, no prayers 
 to recite.” 
 
 “Some day you’ll think differently,” an- 
 swered his gentle mother. “What you call 
 dull tasks will be like apples of gold in pictures 
 of silver.” 
 
 One stormy night when the lad Patrick was 
 sixteen years old pirates from Ireland burst 
 into the farmhouse where the Romans sat be- 
 fore the glowing peat fire. Without warning 
 they were attacked. Bravely they fought and 
 with no thought of fear. Outnumbered, over- 
 
100 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 powered they were killed, or captured and 
 bound hand and foot. 
 
 “To the boats!” cried the pirate captain. 
 “Handle the lad carefully, my men,” he added 
 pointing to Patrick at the end of the row of 
 prisoners. “He’s strong and will bring a good 
 price on the other side. No, no, leave the 
 women here.” 
 
 Through the long dark night the boat tossed 
 on the stormy sea. When morning came 
 Patrick found himself in Ireland. The pi- 
 rates sold him to a man who lived in county 
 Antrim. And he was sent to feed his master’s 
 swine. 
 
 On the mountains, in the forest, in snow 
 and rain the young slave lived for six long 
 years. Often he was hungry. Often he was 
 bitterly cold. It was a life to test his endur- 
 ance, strong and hardy as he was. Rest and 
 leisure? None for him. A slave’s tasks are 
 never finished. Snow on the ground? He 
 must drive out his pigs and find acorns for 
 them. Frequently he spent the night on the 
 hillside though a biting wind swept over the 
 mountains. 
 
 One thing he had in plenty' — time to think. 
 He thought of his home, of his parents, and of 
 
ST. PATRICK S DAY 
 
 101 
 
 the dull lessons his mother had made him learn. 
 Little by little they came back to him. In 
 the psalms, in the prayers that he now recited 
 over and over he found many a word of com- 
 fort. They were indeed like apples of gold in 
 pictures of silver. 
 
 Patrick made good use of these long months 
 of slavery. He learned the manners and cus- 
 toms and language of the people of Ireland. 
 He learned to see beauty in the common things 
 around him. You know the story of how he 
 was asked, years afterward, to explain the 
 Trinity — three persons in one — and how he 
 stooped down and from the grass at his feet 
 plucked a leaf of the delicate, little, green 
 shamrock and used its three leaves growing 
 from one stem to illustrate the mystery? 
 
 One night when he was resting in the shelter 
 of a rock he fell asleep. In his dream he heard 
 a voice say, “You shall soon return to your 
 home. Behold, a ship is ready.” 
 
 It was the voice of an angel, Patrick thought. 
 He set out for the seashore at once. After 
 many a weary mile he found a ship with sails 
 already set to begin its voyage to Britain. 
 
 “No,” cried the captain angrily, “begone! 
 I’ll take no runaway slave!” 
 
102 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 Sorrowfully Patrick turned away and 
 trudged up the road. But the captain changed 
 his mind and sent a sailor after him. 
 
 “Come, we’ll take you on trust. You can 
 work out your passage.” 
 
 Fainter and fainter grew the Irish coast. 
 Three days later the ship reached land, but 
 not near the river Clyde. Across a strange, 
 desolate country they had to travel. Day by 
 day their supply of food grew less. Must they 
 starve to death? 
 
 “Christian,” said the captain, “I’ve often 
 watched you at your prayers. Pray for us 
 now, for we are starving.” 
 
 “I will,” answered Patrick, “but you too 
 must have faith.” 
 
 He knelt down and prayed. Suddenly in 
 the woods there was a rushing, tearing sound. 
 A herd of wild boars swept by. The sailors 
 gave chase and soon killed enough to give them 
 food for weeks. 
 
 After twenty-seven days of wild adventure 
 Patrick reached home again. Picture the joy 
 and happiness of his arrival! All his hard- 
 ships, all his troubles were forgotten. But 
 he could not be again the careless lad of six- 
 
ST. PATRICK’S DAY 103 
 
 teen. He was a man and must do a man’s 
 work in the world. 
 
 “Yes,” agreed his mother. “But I beg of 
 you, do it here. Never leave us, now that we 
 have found you so wonderfully.” 
 
 For a while that was Patrick’s sole desire, 
 to stay in his dear home. Then one night as 
 he slept an angel came to him carrying a bun- 
 dle of letters. On the first was written, “The 
 voice of the Irish.” As he read the words he 
 heard a call, the voices of many people who 
 dwelt by the western ocean, “Come and dwell 
 with us! We pray thee, holy youth, walk 
 among us as before!” 
 
 His eyes were dimmed with tears. He 
 could no longer see the letter held out to him 
 and he awoke. 
 
 Those people near the western ocean were 
 poor and untaught. They were heathen and 
 had never heard of God. Patrick made up 
 his mind to spend his life preaching to them. 
 With the torch of God’s love in his hand he 
 would spread abroad the glorious light of 
 Christianity in every corner of dark Ireland. 
 
 His friends and relatives opposed this plan. 
 They made Patrick great offers to detain him. 
 
104 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 They tried to frighten him with talk of the 
 dangers of that savage land. But for riches 
 and honors he cared nothing. His one desire 
 was to carry his message to the Irish people. 
 By day he thought of Ireland. By night he 
 dreamed of her green and fertile shores. 
 
 But he was too wise to go unprepared. 
 For such a mission years of study were needed. 
 Into France and Italy Patrick journeyed. 
 At Tours he stayed with his mother’s uncle. 
 From the good St. Martin’s hands he received 
 the habit of a monk. It was the pope Celes- 
 tine, say the old books, who consecrated him 
 bishop and charged him to convert the people 
 of Ireland. 
 
 In the year 432 the lad who had been a slave 
 and swineherd returned. Not alone he went, 
 but with a train of clergy and helpers. Books 
 and priestly vestments he had and his pastoral 
 staff ; and learning and a loving heart, and that 
 was best of all. 
 
 At Wicklow they landed. The first person 
 they met was a lad tending swine. Terrified 
 he fled away through the woods to his master. 
 
 “Pirates !” he cried. “Pirates are landing at 
 the bay!” 
 
 But when the man summoned his followers 
 
ST. PATRICK S DAY 105 
 
 and marched down to the beach he saw only 
 a group of unarmed folk. 
 
 “Friends and not enemies they are,” he 
 called back to his soldiers after he had talked 
 earnestly with Patrick. “Put up your weap- 
 ons !” 
 
 Now it was in the spring that this torch- 
 bearer returned to Ireland. But the glad sea- 
 son of Easter had no meaning for the people. 
 They worshiped the sun which was putting 
 winter to flight and changing buds to blossoms. 
 In its honor every year their priests, the 
 Druids, held a great festival at Tara where 
 lived the fierce King Laoghaire. On the day 
 before all fires were put out. On pain of 
 death no man could kindle one until the king’s 
 great festal beacon should be lighted on the 
 hill of Tara. 
 
 When Patrick heard of this gathering of 
 the people and their priests, and that the king 
 himself would be there, it seemed a splendid 
 opportunity. Swiftly he traveled across hill 
 and dale. On Easter Eve he reached the hill 
 of Slane, a dozen miles from the mouth of the 
 river Boyne. 
 
 The whole land was wrapped in darkness. 
 Not a fire, not a light was to be seen. Over 
 
106 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 Tara was a solemn blackness. The night was 
 cold. Patrick started a fire and sat watching 
 the little tongues of flame as they shot up 
 higher and higher. 
 
 The white-robed Druids and the king saw 
 the glowing light. Astonished and angry 
 Laoghaire asked, “Who has dared do this 
 thing?” 
 
 “None of thy subjects surely, my lord 
 king,” said the priests. “The commands are 
 most strict. Gold and silver could not save 
 the life of a man who disobeyed. It is an 
 enemy.” 
 
 “What does it mean then?” 
 
 “The old prophecies say, if this fire be not 
 extinguished tonight it will never be ex- 
 tinguished, but will overtop all our fires. And 
 he that kindled it will overturn thy kingdom.” 
 
 “He shall not challenge us thus,” cried the 
 king. “We will go forth and punish this bold 
 stranger.” 
 
 There was heard the shouting of men and 
 the stamping of horses while the royal chariots 
 were made ready. Over the dark, silent hill- 
 side went king and priests, till they came near- 
 er and nearer to the fire burning on the hill 
 of Slane. 
 
ST. PATRICK S DAY 
 
 107 
 
 “Go not within the line of that magic light,” 
 urged the Druids. “Let a messenger fetch 
 him forth.” 
 
 “You say well. We will wait here. Rise 
 not when he comes, lest he should think we seek 
 to honor him.” 
 
 They sat down to wait the return of the 
 messenger. Soon Patrick came toward them, 
 outlined against the flickering fire. As he ap- 
 proached the group sat silent, the warriors 
 resting their chins on the rims of their great 
 shields, looking grim and terrible in the flar- 
 ing light. 
 
 F orgetting the king’s order one of the pages 
 rose to his feet in reverent greeting. Raising 
 his hand Patrick blessed the lad. And years 
 later he became bishop of Slane. 
 
 “Who are you?” questioned Laoghaire. 
 “What is your errand here?” 
 
 “I am a torch bearer. I bring light to this 
 dark land. I bring peace and good will. 
 Hear my message, I pray.” 
 
 “Slay him!” commanded the king. 
 
 Before his followers could obey a violent 
 tempest arose. In fright the horses ran over 
 the plain. The chariots were swept away and 
 destroyed. Confused and terrified, the peo- 
 
108 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 pie turned upon each other fiercely. After 
 struggle and bloodshed they fled. Only the 
 king and one other remained. Alone, un- 
 armed Patrick stood before them. 
 
 “Come to Tara tomorrow,” said Laoghaire, 
 “and speak before the court.” 
 
 This was what Patrick most desired. Robed 
 in white, wearing his mitre and carrying his 
 staff the priest appeared at Tara. Unafraid 
 in the presence of king and court he explained 
 the leading points in the teachings of Chris- 
 tianity. A new and wonderful message it 
 was, of love and mercy and forgiveness. Such 
 words the Irish had never heard before. 
 Laoghaire gave permission for the newcomers 
 to go safely through his dominions to teach 
 and to preach. 
 
 What a glad Easter for the new bishop, for 
 the slave who had tended swine in that land ! 
 
 Up and down through the country ruled by 
 Laoghaire Patrick went with his Christian 
 teachings. Into Connaught he journeyed and 
 won over the seven sons of the king and twelve 
 thousand of his subjects. To the far west he 
 went and north to the most distant point 
 on the rocky coast of Antrim, then south 
 
ST. PATRICK S DAY 109 
 
 to the very end of Munster. Thus his travels 
 formed a cross over Ireland. 
 
 Now a wild and rude country it was. The 
 poor people used to worship snakes. No one 
 dared to kill them and the Irish were greatly 
 troubled, the land was so full of the reptiles. 
 Patrick traveled over the land, says the old 
 story, with a drummer marching before him 
 beating the big drum with all his might. The 
 power of the good saint, added to the noise of 
 the drum frightened the snakes. F ast as they 
 could they ran and jumped into the sea. And 
 in the whole of Ireland today you can’t find a 
 single living snake ! 
 
 But once Patrick met up with a monstrous 
 serpent that feared him not a whit. Instead 
 of running away it lay right across his path. 
 What should he do? He hunted around till 
 he found a big box with a strong cover. With 
 many a soft word — for though he wasn’t Irish 
 he’d learned the Irish way of speaking — he 
 coaxed the snake to get into the box. 
 
 “It’s too small to hold me,” said the wily 
 creature. 
 
 “ ’Tis quite large enough,” declared Patrick. 
 
 At great length they argued the matter. 
 
110 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 “I’ll show you! I’ll prove the truth of what 
 I say,” cried the serpent angrily. 
 
 Slowly, carefully it crawled in and coiled 
 down. In a flash the cover was clapped on 
 tight. The box was cast into the Irish Sea. 
 
 The rest of his life Patrick spent among 
 these people. He labored to win over the 
 chiefs of the land. Their followers would then 
 be the more ready to hearken to his message. 
 He labored to teach the lads. He could not 
 forget his own years as a tender of swine. 
 F rom him the people learned to believe in God. 
 Gladly they turned from darkness to the light. 
 
 When a chief became a Christian it was the 
 custom for him to give Patrick a piece of land 
 on which to build a church. Near each of the 
 three hundred and sixty-five churches he 
 founded a school. In the monasteries he left 
 disciples to carry on his work. 
 
 All who loved learning flocked to these Irish 
 schools so that they became famous through 
 western Europe. Thither came also the 
 Druids, the poets and musicians of that age. 
 But now they tuned their harps in the service of 
 God. Beautiful was their music, so beautiful 
 that it’s said the angels of heaven stooped down 
 
ST. PATRICK S DAY 
 
 111 
 
 to listen. That’s why the harp became the 
 badge of Ireland. 
 
 And at last after he’d given many a year 
 of faithful work and had made the Irish people 
 Christians, in the spring when the shamrocks 
 decked the land with their dainty green Pat- 
 rick died. Everywhere there was mourning. 
 From the most remote villages priests and peo- 
 ple came to pay a last tribute to their master. 
 For twelve days and nights the ceremonies 
 lasted, each group joining as it arrived. The 
 blaze of hundreds of torches made the whole 
 time seem like one continuous day. 
 
 Now whether he died on the eighth of March 
 or on the ninth I can not tell. Among the 
 Irish there was great debate. Some insisted 
 on the one day and some held out for the other. 
 At last they decided to add the two together 
 and to have the seventeenth for St. Patrick’s 
 day. 
 
 For all that he did for her Ireland can never 
 be grateful enough. She chose him for her 
 patron saint. She worships his memory 
 and keeps it green forever. In every Irish 
 family there’s sure to be a Patrick or a 
 Patricia. 
 
112 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 The world over Irishmen celebrate this day. 
 We parade with music and banners. We wear 
 the green and make speeches in praise of the 
 emerald isle, in honor of our saint. Do you 
 see why ? 
 
“TO ARMS! THE REDCOATS 
 ARE COMING!” 
 
 THE NINETEENTH OF APRIL 
 
 A few years ago about ten o’clock one April 
 night a fourteen-year-old girl crept up the 
 steps of the belfry of Christ Church in Boston. 
 Without pausing to look down on the narrow, 
 crooked streets of the North End, or on the 
 river near by she went about her task. She 
 lighted the two lanterns hanging from her arm. 
 High in the belfry she placed them. 
 
 Americans and Italians, Poles and Russians 
 of that crowded tenement neighborhood saw 
 the two gleaming lights and said, “All, look! 
 There’s the signal!” 
 
 Across the river Charles waited a man in 
 colonial dress. The moment the lights flashed 
 out he swung himself on to his good gray horse 
 and rode off into the darkness. From Charles- 
 town to Medford he rode and on to Arlington. 
 Through stretches of green fields and patches 
 of woodland, past trim market gardens and 
 suburban villages, on through the night he 
 
 113 
 
114 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 went to Lexington and thence to Concord. 
 
 To every group he chanced to meet on the 
 highway, to the sleeping people in houses 
 near the road the horseman shouted out his 
 message: “Up and to arms! The regulars 
 
 are coming!” 
 
 In old colonial farmhouses, in modern sub- 
 urban residences, in beautiful country homes 
 men and women and children sat at the win- 
 dows watching for that swift rider. They 
 heard the hard galloping of his horse. They 
 heard the exciting words, “To arms! The 
 redcoats are coming!” 
 
 And when scarcely drawing rein he had 
 dashed on toward the next village, fathers and 
 mothers turned to their children and told 
 them the story of the ride taken on the eigh- 
 teenth of April in 1775 by the ancestor of the 
 girl who lighted the lanterns in the old North 
 Church. 
 
 The winter of 1774-5 was an exciting time 
 in old Boston town. The colony’s quarrel 
 with Parliament and George III grew hotter. 
 Step by step matters were coming to a crisis. 
 The people were determined to have their 
 rights as Englishmen. They would not be 
 
LEXINGTON DAY 
 
 115 
 
 taxed unless they had representation in the 
 body that voted their taxes. 
 
 Boston had resisted the stamp act. She had 
 thrown the tea into the harbor. Then by the 
 king’s orders her port was closed, the assembly 
 dissolved. 
 
 Delegates from the various colonies had met 
 at Philadelphia in a Continental Congress and 
 had petitioned the king and Parliament to re- 
 store their rights. The answer was the send- 
 ing of General Gage with four regiments of 
 soldiers to Boston. 
 
 Meanwhile the people of Massachusetts or- 
 ganized an assembly of their own. They chose 
 John Hancock, the rich Boston merchant, as 
 president. They made plans for summoning 
 minute-men, as they called those citizens who 
 pledged themselves to be ready to fight at a 
 minute’s notice. They began collecting mili- 
 tary stores. If the need came they’d be 
 all prepared for war in defense of their liber- 
 ties. 
 
 All that exciting winter the Sons of Liberty 
 in Boston held secret meetings. So many 
 members there were that they were organized 
 in three sections. The one in the North End 
 was led by Dr. Joseph Warren and his right- 
 
116 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 hand man was Paul Revere, goldsmith and en- 
 graver. 
 
 It was Revere who formed among the work- 
 ingmen a patrol that for weeks watched the 
 movements of British soldiers in the streets of 
 Boston. Two by two his thirty mechanics 
 walked up and down every thoroughfare lis- 
 tening, listening. Any news of importance 
 they brought to the Green Dragon Tavern in 
 Union Street, “the headquarters of the Revo- 
 lution,” as it came to be called. 
 
 In April the air in the North End of Bos- 
 ton was charged with excitement. It was all 
 the more intense because it was smothered. 
 
 The British, the Sons of Liberty knew, had 
 received orders from London to seize all arms 
 and ammunition, and to arrest the two arch- 
 traitors, Samuel Adams and Hancock, and 
 send them to England. Too well they knew 
 what that meant — a trial for treason, the 
 Tower of London and the block. In addition 
 a price was set upon their heads. 
 
 More closely the patrol watched and lis- 
 tened. What were the redcoats planning? 
 Something out of the ordinary was going on 
 in their camp. 
 
 On Saturday, the fifteenth of the month, 
 
117 
 
 LEXINGTON DAY 
 
 one of Revere’s men discovered that the gren- 
 adiers and the light infantry had been taken 
 off duty. A second item was reported — all 
 the small boats from the transports had been 
 hauled up for repairs and anchored under the 
 sterns of the men-of-war. 
 
 “Plainly,” said Paul Revere as he talked 
 over these reports with Dr. Warren, “their 
 troops are making ready to cross over to 
 Charlestown. Are they after the stores at 
 Concord? or after Mr. Hancock and Mr. 
 Adams at Lexington?” 
 
 “Perhaps both. At any rate our leaders 
 are in danger. Do you, Revere, go out to 
 Lexington and tell them what you’ve learned. 
 They’re lodging at the parsonage, you know — 
 the Reverend Jonas Clarke’s.” 
 
 So on Sunday Paul Revere mounted his big 
 gray horse and rode out to Lexington. It was 
 only thirteen miles. The big gray steed was 
 strong and fleet. And his rider was a fine 
 horseman, tireless and enduring. By night he 
 was back again. 
 
 Now that very Saturday the assembly which 
 had been meeting in Concord adjourned for 
 some weeks. Its committee of safety met on 
 Monday, heard from Adams and Hancock the 
 
118 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 message brought by Revere, and voted to send 
 away the supplies that had been collected. 
 The musket balls and powder they would not 
 try to hide all in one place. To nine different 
 towns they were sent for the safer keeping. 
 Tents, medicine chests and linen were divided 
 among six. villages. Spades and shovels, 
 salt fish and rice were shared with other 
 towns. 
 
 Meanwhile back in Boston the Sons of Lib- 
 erty were certain something was afoot. The 
 Somerset, one of the men-of-war, had moved 
 up the bay. Her guns covered the ferry and 
 could cut the patriots off from the other side 
 of the Charles. Getting across might be dif- 
 ficult. 
 
 So Paul Revere arranged with a friend that 
 if anj^ large body of soldiers left the city, lan- 
 terns should be hung in the brick steeple of 
 Christ Church — the Old North Church they 
 called it even then; for wasn’t it the oldest 
 church in Boston, dating back to 1728? One 
 light if the British were to march overland; 
 two if they started by water. F rom that high 
 steeple the lights would flash the message far 
 away. 
 
 Tuesday night the vigilant patrol reported, 
 
LEXINGTON DAY 
 
 119 
 
 “A number of soldiers are moving toward the 
 bottom of the Common.” 
 
 “Ah!” said Paul Revere to himself, “now 
 we know their plans. Instead of marching 
 round by Boston Neck they’ll cross to Charles- 
 town and then go west to Lexington and Con- 
 cord.” 
 
 Just at that moment a boy came with a mes- 
 sage. Dr. Warren wanted him for an impor- 
 tant errand. Paul Revere was not surprised. 
 How many times already he had been the 
 trusted messenger of the committee of safety 
 — in December year before last to New York 
 over frozen roads, with news of the Boston tea 
 party; in June to Philadelphia to ask help 
 from the other colonies when the port of Bos- 
 ton was closed; and again in September he 
 brought from the first Continental Congress a 
 message of approval and advice for the patriots 
 of Massachusetts: Avoid collision with the 
 
 king’s troops, act only on the defensive. All 
 this was running through Revere’s mind as he 
 walked to Dr. Warren’s. Well, he was ready 
 ■ — as ready as a minute-man. 
 
 The doctor too was ready with his instruc- 
 tions. 
 
 “William Dawes has already started to Lex- 
 
120 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 ington to give warning that the British are 
 coming. He’s to go all the way by horseback 
 over Boston Neck. Do you, Revere, cross 
 over to Charlestown and then ride west on this 
 hurry call. One of you may not get through. 
 And if you both succeed, riding by different 
 roads you’ll warn that many more of our men. 
 Dawes has the start of you. Best set off at 
 once. You’ve twenty miles before you.” 
 
 It was after ten o’clock. 
 
 Revere went to his house in North Square, 
 took up his overcoat and boots and walked 
 down to the river. Two good friends rowed 
 him across the Charles. Their oars were muf- 
 fled so that they did not attract the attention of 
 the watch on the Somerset , lying a bit to the 
 west of where they passed. Once ashore Paul 
 Revere got a horse from Deacon Larkin and 
 set out. 
 
 Twenty miles it was to Concord and the 
 night was dark. Before he had gone far the 
 keen eyes of this patriot rider saw two British 
 officers on horseback, waiting under a tree. 
 One headed him off, the other rode directly 
 toward him. The deacon’s horse was turned 
 short about. 
 
 Revere retraced his way for a bit. Then at 
 
LEXINGTON DAY 
 
 121 
 
 a dark spot in the road he struck off at right 
 angles for the Medford highway — not easy go- 
 ing, but he knew the lay of the land. His 
 pursuer got into a clay pond. Soon he had 
 outwitted this enemy patrol. 
 
 At Medford the captain of the minute-men 
 was wakened. He rubbed his eyes. Sleepily 
 he heard the message: “The redcoats are 
 
 coming! To arms!” Then wide awake he 
 stared after the sturdy horseman already gal- 
 loping up the road, reached for his old musket 
 in the chimney corner and called out his men. 
 
 From Medford on Paul Revere stopped at 
 almost every house, shouted out his warning 
 sentence and galloped westward. It was af- 
 ter midnight when he reached the green at 
 Lexington. A little way off, on the North 
 Road, stood the parsonage. The household 
 had just retired, for the three men, Adams 
 and Hancock and the preacher, had talked 
 late — about king and Parliament, about un- 
 just laws and the rights of British subjects. 
 
 The hard galloping of the deacon’s horse 
 broke the stillness of the night. 
 
 “Halt! Who goes there?” 
 
 “A friend,” answered Revere, “and in a 
 precious hurry!” 
 
122 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 “No noise,” cautioned the sentry, one of" 
 eight men guarding the house. 
 
 “Noise! You’ll have noise enough before 
 long. The regulars are coming. They’re on 
 the march and will soon be among you.” 
 “Come in, Revere,” John Hancock called 
 out recognizing his voice. 
 
 Into the parsonage went the goldsmith and 
 told his errand. Hancock reached for his gun 
 and fell to cleaning it. 
 
 “I’ll join the minute-men,” he declared, 
 “and face the enemy. It shall never be said 
 of me that I turned my back upon the British.” 
 “No, no!” argued Adams. “We have other 
 work to do.” 
 
 “If you stay here,” urged Paul Revere, 
 “you’re liable to be captured. Lives will be 
 lost. Time will be wasted. Get away from 
 Boston and this neighborhood. Go down to 
 Philadelphia. You’ll be needed there.” 
 
 A half hour’s rest the deacon’s horse had. 
 Then William Dawes rode up and Revere 
 joined him. 
 
 “Suppose I go on to Concord with you,” 
 said young Dr. Prescott who had been in Lex- 
 ington that evening to call on his sweetheart. 
 
LEXINGTON DAY 123 
 
 “I know the road, every inch of it, and all the 
 houses where you should stop.” 
 
 Off rode the three to carry their warning. 
 Half way to Concord they ran into a group of 
 ten British officers. They were surrounded 
 and forced into a pasture where the bars were 
 down at one side of the road. 
 
 Their only chance of escape lay in separ- 
 ating. Prescott struck spurs to his horse, 
 jumped a stone wall and rode on all the way to 
 Concord, calling out his message as he gal- 
 loped along. 
 
 With two of the British pursuing him 
 Dawes dashed up to an empty farmhouse, 
 slapped his leather breeches loudly and 
 shouted, “Halloo, boys! I’ve got two of 
 ’em!” Frightened by this Yankee trick the 
 redcoats turned and fled. Dawes too went on 
 to Concord. Both he and Prescott were at 
 the bridge that day. 
 
 Revere meanwhile turned to the right across 
 the pasture and made for a little wood. His 
 plan was to jump from his horse and run. 
 From the shadow of the trees came half a 
 dozen British officers on horseback. 
 
 “Dismount.” 
 
124 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 There was nothing for it but to obey. 
 “What is your name?” 
 
 “Revere.” 
 
 “Paul Revere?” 
 
 “Yes.” 
 
 “Are you an express?” For so swift mes- 
 sengers were called in colonial times. 
 
 “Yes.” 
 
 “When did you leave Boston?” 
 
 He told them, adding, “Your troops ran 
 aground in crossing the river. Five hundred 
 Americans will be here in a short time, for I 
 alarmed the country all the way up.” 
 
 With a redcoat leading his horse Paul Re- 
 vere went back toward Lexington in the midst 
 of the group of British officers. So many 
 dangerous rides he had taken for the Sons of 
 Liberty, and never before had he been cap- 
 tured. Would Dawes or Prescott get safely 
 to Concord in time for the minute-men to con- 
 ceal their supplies and be ready to face the en- 
 emy? 
 
 Half a mile from the Lexington green they 
 heard a signal gun fired. The bell was ringing. 
 
 “What does that mean?” asked the British 
 in alarm. 
 
LEXINGTON DAY 
 
 125 
 
 They took the deacon’s horse and rode hast- 
 ily away. Their prisoner was free! 
 
 Across the fields Revere went and back to 
 the Clarke house. Adams and Hancock were 
 just starting. He went with them for a couple 
 of miles and then returned to Lexington to get 
 a trunk filled with Hancock’s papers. As he 
 carried it from the tavern to a place of safety 
 he saw a group of minute-men lining up on 
 the green. But he did not join them. Hav- 
 ing carried out his orders he must go back to 
 Boston and report to Dr. Warren. 
 
 The alarm bell had rung in Lexington. The 
 minute-men had assembled. The watch on the 
 Boston road reported no British in sight. The 
 night was chilly. Captain Parker dismissed 
 his men with orders to stay within drum call. 
 Those living near by went to their homes. The 
 others gathered in the tavern on the north side 
 of the green. 
 
 Suddenly they heard the sound of a gallop- 
 ing horse coming down the Boston road. 
 
 “The army of redcoats is half a mile away!” 
 reported the sentinel. 
 
 “Beat the drum. To arms! To arms!” 
 cried Parker. 
 
126 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 William Diamond, the drummer, wakened 
 the green and hills near by with his warlike 
 sounds. From the tavern, from the houses 
 around, the minute-men came running. Ten 
 rods from the meeting-house Captain Parker 
 drew them up in two long lines — seventy-seven 
 of them counting the three who went into the 
 church for powder. 
 
 The east windows of the meeting-house 
 brightened with the rays of the coming sunrise. 
 At the edge of the green appeared the first of 
 the British soldiers. In front of his men rode 
 Major Pitcairn. 
 
 “Halt!” he called as he heard Diamond’s 
 drum call. “Load! Forward march!” 
 
 Almost on the run the redcoats came up. 
 There was a rattle of muskets. There was the 
 tramping of heavy feet. The minute-men saw 
 a dim mass of moving figures coming nearer 
 and nearer. They saw the gleam of musket 
 barrels, the scarlet of uniforms. 
 
 “There are so few of us. It’-s folly to 
 stand here,” said one of the patriots to his 
 neighbor. 
 
 Captain Parker heard the words and ex- 
 claimed, loud enough for his seventy-seven 
 men to hear, “Don’t fire unless fired upon. 
 
LEXINGTON DAY 127 
 
 But if they mean to have a war, let it begin 
 here.” 
 
 “I will never run,” said Jonas Parker to 
 himself. 
 
 A hundred feet from the two lines Pitcairn 
 stopped. 
 
 “Disperse, you rebels!” he shouted. “Lay 
 down your arms and disperse.” 
 
 Grim silence greeted him. Not a minute- 
 man moved. Not one laid down his musket. 
 “Fire!” called the British officer. 
 
 Over the heads of the patriots his men fired 
 wildly. Pitcairn was angry. 
 
 “Fire at them! at them!” 
 
 A second volley. Seven Americans fell. 
 Nine others were wounded. The patriots fired 
 back. Two or more of the British were hit. 
 
 Other redcoats came into view. Captain 
 Parker saw that they would surround and cap- 
 ture his little band. They were ten to one. 
 Fie ordered his men to withdraw. 
 
 “I will never run,” Jonas Parker had said. 
 He did not retire with the others. Once more 
 he fired, his ammunition in his hat on the 
 ground at his feet. Wounded he fell forward. 
 He struggled to rise, tried to reload and said 
 again, “I will never run.” Just where he had 
 
128 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 stood in the first line of the minute-men, he 
 died on the green at Lexington. 
 
 Jonathan Harrington too was wounded by 
 that British volley. Across the green was his 
 home. He staggered toward it, fell, rose and 
 stumbled on. At the door his wife met him. 
 He died in her arms. 
 
 The British made a dash for the Clarke house. 
 They failed to find Hancock and Adams. 
 Making a show of victory they gave three 
 cheers, fired a volley, and wheeling about 
 started down the road. 
 
 But if Paul Revere had been captured 
 Dawes and Prescott had carried the warning 
 to Concord. Trained through years of war- 
 fare with Indians and the French, the minute- 
 men were ready. Messengers were sent to- 
 ward Lexington and soon after sunrise gal- 
 loped back with news of the skirmish on the 
 green and of the eight hundred redcoats 
 marching westward. There was hurried con- 
 sultation. 
 
 “Let us stand our ground,” advised the min- 
 ister, Mr. Emerson. “If we die let us die 
 here.” 
 
 “It will not do for us to begin the war,” said 
 
LEXINGTON DAY 129 
 
 others hesitating. “It would be treason to the 
 king if we resist.” 
 
 At seven o’clock there was a gleam of red 
 on the Lexington road. Into the village came 
 the British. Colonel Barrett saw that he was 
 outnumbered. He marched his men down to 
 the river and took possession of the bridge and 
 of the slope beyond. 
 
 In the center of the town Major Pitcairn 
 sent his men to search for arms and powder. 
 They broke open a few barrels of flour. They 
 spiked three cannon and dumped five hundred 
 pounds of bullets into the millpond. Angry 
 at finding so little they chopped down a liberty 
 pole and set fire to the court-house. 
 
 “Shall we let them burn the whole village?” 
 the minute-men began asking each other when 
 they saw the smoke. 
 
 “There’s a considerable store of ammunition 
 at the Barrett house across the river, sir,” re- 
 ported a British scout. 
 
 Two hundred soldiers were sent in search 
 of it. 
 
 “Shall we let them burn the town?” the min- 
 ute-men asked again. 
 
 “March!” called out their captain. 
 
130 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 In double file they started down the slope. 
 The redcoats were coming toward the bridge. 
 Where now the old gray monument stands 
 they formed in line of battle. The Americans 
 halted at the other end of the bridge, where 
 now you see the statue of the Minute-man with 
 his ready flintlock and powder horn. 
 
 For an instant British and patriot farmers 
 faced each other in silence. 
 
 Bang! Bang! went two muskets of the 
 enemy. 
 
 Then others — bang! bang! bang! 
 
 The patriot captain fell. Another minute- 
 man went down, another. The war had begun. 
 
 “Fire! For God’s sake, fire!” called an 
 American officer. 
 
 The first battle of the Revolution spoke its 
 defiance to the king of England. Across the 
 bridge shots flew. Two British soldiers fell. 
 Seven were wounded. Then the firing ceased. 
 Toward the town the redcoats ran. The min- 
 ute-men held the bridge they had defended so 
 valiantly. 
 
 For an hour and more the British marched 
 and countermarched in Concord. Their col- 
 onel was uncertain what to do. He had been 
 sent to arrest Adams and Hancock and to de- 
 
LEXINGTON DAY 
 
 131 
 
 stroy the stores. In both tasks he had failed. 
 His troops were hungry and weary, for they’d 
 been on the march since midnight. They were 
 thoroughly alarmed. At last the order was 
 given: “Right about face! To Boston!” 
 
 But by this time more and more minute-men 
 had assembled. From Lincoln and Acton, 
 Concord’s nearest neighbors, they had come. 
 From all the country round farmers hurried 
 up to help. From both sides, from front 
 and rear they attacked the British. The re- 
 turn changed to a retreat. 
 
 Not in a long line as on the Lexington green, 
 but in Indian fashion from behind clumps of 
 trees and stone walls they fired at the redcoats. 
 All the way from Concord the helpless Brit- 
 ish had to run the gauntlet. By the time they 
 reached Lexington their ammunition began to 
 fail. 
 
 There at two o’clock Lord Percy met them 
 with two field pieces and twelve hundred fresh 
 men from Boston, formed in a hollow square. 
 Into this shelter the exhausted troops flung 
 themselves, lying down on the ground with 
 their tongues hanging out of their mouths like 
 those of dogs after a chase. With only a brief 
 rest the homeward march began again. 
 
182 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 But even this reinforcement could not save 
 the day. The patriot forces grew so rapidly, 
 as minute-men from thirty of the surrounding 
 towns came up, that the British barely escaped 
 capture. The attacks grew hotter and more 
 frequent. Now and then the redcoats would 
 form, turn their cannon upon the unseen en- 
 emy and silence them for the moment. But 
 from the stone walls that were like ready-made 
 breastworks the firing began again as soon as 
 the line of march was resumed. 
 
 Panic-stricken the British changed from 
 double-quick to a run. Pell-mell, helter-skel- 
 ter they stumbled along, all order lost. Like 
 hounds worrying game the patriot farmers 
 hung on the skirts of this twenty-mile retreat, 
 firing at every opportunity for a good shot. 
 Like maddened bees, or like a cloud of hornets 
 they swarmed about the enemy. 
 
 “It rained rebels!” one British soldier de- 
 scribed the scene. 
 
 Exhausted, covered with dust, at sunset the 
 redcoats reached Charlestown. There they 
 were safe under the guns of their men-of-war. 
 They had lost two hundred and seventy-three 
 in killed and wounded. 
 
 “They have begun it,” Dr. Warren com- 
 
LEXINGTON DAY 
 
 133 
 
 merited to a friend. “That either party can do. 
 And we will end it. That only we can do.” 
 
 The news of the nineteenth of April was car- 
 ried by expresses to towns all over New Eng- 
 land and southward. From Georgia up to 
 Maine the thirteen colonies were roused to ac- 
 tion. The skirmish on the green at Lexing- 
 ton, the fight at the Concord bridge, the 
 twenty-mile battle-front stretching all the way 
 to Charlestown began a contest that lasted for 
 seven years and ended only at Yorktown. 
 
 At Lexington and Concord and all along 
 the road to Boston the descendants of the min- 
 ute-men of 1775 have placed tablets to mark 
 the sites of the eventful happenings of that 
 April night and day. On tavern and house- 
 front, on parsonage and stone walls, on the 
 green, near the bridge you can see them to the 
 number of sixty and more. More than once 
 they have acted out on this N ew England holi- 
 day the placing of the lanterns in Christ 
 Church and the midnight ride of Dawes and 
 Paul Revere. They honor both the horsemen 
 who carried the warning, “The redcoats are 
 coming — to arms!” and the minute-men who 
 heard the message and stood ready with their 
 muskets to fight for liberty. 
 
THE NATION THAT WOULD 
 NOT DIE 
 
 THE THIRD OF MAY 
 
 In the king’s room in the palace at Warsaw 
 a little group of patriots met. Quietly the dis- 
 cussion went on. Plainly it was a matter of 
 great moment, to judge from their earnest, se- 
 rious faces. 
 
 “Do you all then,” asked one of the leaders, 
 “solemnly pledge yourselves not to separate 
 till our end is accomplished?” 
 
 “We do,” came the answer. “It is for 
 Poland.” 
 
 They left the king’s room and went into the 
 great hall where the meetings of the Diet were 
 held. The galleries were crowded with spec- 
 tators. Outside the palace w r aited thousands 
 of people who could not gain admission. 
 
 The members of the Diet took their places. 
 Three hundred and fifty-four there were when 
 all were present; a double number in that 
 spring of 1791 because when the two years of 
 the Diet of 1788 were nearly over and their 
 
 134 
 
POLAND 
 
 135 
 
 special business was not completed, it was 
 voted that new deputies should be chosen and 
 added to those already sitting. How absurd 
 it would have been to leave an unfinished task 
 to wholly new hands ! 
 
 Ordinarily one of the marshals opened a ses- 
 sion of the Diet. Today King Stanislas him- 
 self performed this office. The spectators 
 leaned over from the galleries to see the better. 
 What a fine-looking, handsome man their king 
 was! 
 
 The first business of the day was a report 
 from the committee of foreign affairs. Close 
 attention the members paid as it was read by 
 the marshal. Danger threatened the republic 
 of Poland! Without a dissenting vote the 
 committee prophesied a second partition of the 
 country. 
 
 Instantly there was the greatest excitement 
 in the Diet. Another partition of Poland? 
 Would nothing satisfy their powerful and am- 
 bitious neighbors, Russia and Prussia and 
 Austria ? 
 
 Only a few years ago, in 1772, Poland had 
 been forced to agree to a treaty which robbed 
 her of a third of her territory and four millions 
 of her people. Immediately Russian troops 
 
136 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 had been stationed in the land. Indignantly 
 the proud Poles chafed under this foreign dic- 
 tation. But it had one good result. It con- 
 vinced the nobles that reform was needed if 
 their country was ever to be really free. From 
 this time the anti-Russian feeling grew and 
 grew. 
 
 A majority in the Diet wanted reform. But 
 they found it by no means easy to agree as to 
 the details. Jealously some of the members 
 clung to their old privileges. The debates 
 were endless. A doubled Diet did not shorten 
 the discussions. Indeed it meant doubled elo- 
 quence and increased disputes. After three 
 years the business was not finished. 
 
 So the little group of patriots had met in the 
 king’s room, that morning of the third of May. 
 They had pledged themselves to push the mat- 
 ter through that day, while the members op- 
 posed to reform were still away for the Easter 
 recess. 
 
 The excitement caused by the talk of a sec- 
 ond partition was at its height. One of the 
 deputies called on the king to devise some 
 means to save the country. 
 
 In answer to this appeal Stanislas declared, 
 “It is my conviction that the only way to at- 
 
POLAND 
 
 137 
 
 tain safety is to establish a new constitution. 
 The proposed plan for such a constitution I 
 hold in my hands. I urge the members of the 
 Diet to accept it. It is the last, it is the best 
 way to save Poland.” 
 
 The constitution was drafted in French, the 
 work of king and patriot committee. It was 
 modeled on the English constitution and on 
 the one so recently made by the United States. 
 But its details were adapted to the special 
 needs of Poland. 
 
 Clause by clause the constitution was read, 
 beginning with the famous words used on a 
 similar occasion by the National Assembly of 
 France : 
 
 “All power in a state emanates from the will 
 of the nation.” 
 
 Quietly the members of the Diet listened. 
 Those who were not in the secret were aston- 
 ished at the sweeping changes made in the 
 government. They approved of abolishing 
 the old, old veto which allowed one man to say 
 “I forbid !” thus ending all discussion of a mea- 
 sure, ending too that session of the Diet. Yes, 
 in public affairs a majority should rule. 
 
 The marshal read on. More and more 
 changes — the townspeople to have a vote! the 
 
138 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 peasants to be under the law’s protection! an 
 established church for Poland, but no religious 
 persecution for other faiths! a national army 
 of one hundred thousand men, to be under the 
 command of the king! Why, why, this meant 
 doing away with the men-at-arms who for cen- 
 turies had fought under the banners of their 
 nobles. This meant an army now for Poland. 
 
 But most important of all was the para- 
 graph declaring the crown hereditary. Xo 
 longer elect their king by popular vote? The 
 marshal was suddenly interrupted by a voice 
 of protest. A man pushed his way toward the 
 throne. Throwing himself at the king’s feet 
 he implored Stanislas to abandon this idea. 
 
 “It will be fatal to the liberty of Poland!” 
 he cried. 
 
 “Xay, nay,” cried several members, “it will 
 end forever the uncertain, disturbed period be- 
 tween the death of a king and the choice of a 
 new ruler. It is that that’s been fatal to 
 Poland!” 
 
 The patriots who had met in the king’s room 
 that morning now left their seats and rushed 
 into the center of the hall. 
 
 “Swear, swear!” they loudly demanded. 
 “Swear here and now!” 
 
POLAND 
 
 139 
 
 The bishop of Cracow was called to the 
 throne. At his hands Stanislas took an oath 
 on the gospels to defend the new constitution. 
 The better to be seen by the members of the 
 Diet and by the crowds in the gallery, he 
 mounted on the seat and swore aloud. 
 
 With one accord the members held up their 
 right hands and pledged themselves. 
 
 “I have sworn,” said Stanislas with emotion, 
 “and I will never swerve from it. Let every 
 man that loves his country follow me to the 
 cathedral of St. John, and thanking God let 
 us repeat the oath at the altar.” 
 
 “Long live the king! Long live the consti- 
 tution!” answered the Diet. 
 
 What a procession that was from palace to 
 cathedral! King and ministers, members of 
 the Diet, bishops and visitors marched through 
 the streets of Warsaw. Cheering and ap- 
 plauding, the crowds of people waiting outside 
 the palace made way for them. 
 
 In their seats in the great hall sat twelve 
 members who were opposed to reform. They 
 were gloomily silent. 
 
 Before the high altar at St. John’s, king and 
 members recited the oath of loyalty. The Te 
 Deum was sung. The noise of two hundred 
 
140 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 cannon greeted the announcement of the new 
 constitution. The people’s cries of joy filled 
 the air. All night the streets of Warsaw were 
 ablaze with illuminations. 
 
 Two days later the members of the Diet 
 signed the new instrument of government. It 
 made Poland a monarchy of the modern type, 
 in an age when the rest of Europe had not be- 
 gun to dream of a constitution. It was not 
 perfect judged by our standards of today, 
 but it was a long step in the right direction. 
 
 The Diet voted that this important event 
 should be remembered and celebrated each 
 year. Thus the third of May became the great 
 holiday of Poland. 
 
 From almost every state in Europe congrat- 
 ulations poured in on Stanislas. This was in- 
 deed the triumph of his life. His ally, the king 
 of Prussia, wrote a letter of well-wishing. 
 The pope sent a message of congratulation. 
 English statesmen who had deplored the 
 French Revolution were enthusiastic in their 
 admiration for Poland’s new constitution, a 
 model of its kind. 
 
 “It is a work,” said Fox, “in which every 
 friend to reasonable liberty must be sincerely 
 interested.” 
 
POLAND 
 
 141 
 
 And Burke exclaimed, “Humanity must re- 
 joice and glory when it considers the change in 
 Poland!” 
 
 In all the history of the world is there any 
 revolution like this? It came without the 
 shedding of one drop of blood. It came with- 
 out the uprising of an oppressed class, over- 
 turning society to obtain its rights. Volun- 
 tarily the nobles of Poland voted to restrict 
 their ancient privileges which dated back to 
 the fourteenth century. 
 
 But no congratulations came from Catherine 
 of Russia. Her alarm was the best proof of 
 the excellence of the new constitution. Her 
 consternation showed how much it promised 
 of restored strength to Poland. 
 
 But alas ! The third of May came too late 
 to save the nation. The foreign relations com- 
 mittee had ample cause for fear. Poland’s 
 neighbors were powerful and ambitious. The 
 last thing in the world they wanted was a re- 
 organized Poland with a new constitution, with 
 a large army, with a king who was no longer 
 a figurehead. 
 
 While preparations were making in 1792 
 for a celebration on the third of May Russia 
 declared war. On the nineteenth of the month 
 
142 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 the tramp of alien armies was heard on Pol- 
 ish soil. Eighty thousand Russian soldiers 
 marched across the border. With them came 
 twenty thousand Cossacks. 
 
 The constitution had provided for an army 
 of one hundred thousand. But Poland had 
 not had time or money to raise and equip that 
 many soldiers. Against the Russians she 
 could muster a bare twenty thousand. 
 
 Stanislas appealed to his ally Prussia. The 
 answer was, “We agreed to help the Poland of 
 the old constitution, not the new.” She ap- 
 pealed to England and to France. But no 
 help came. Her little army was defeated. 
 
 1793 saw the second partition of Poland 
 carried through. Her territory was again 
 taken by her neighbors, again four millions 
 of her people. The treaty providing for this 
 cession of land was read in the Diet. In 
 gloomy silence the members listened. A vote 
 was called for. Not one member responded. 
 
 “Silence gives consent,” declared the mar- 
 shal. 
 
 But the Poles proud of their past, of their 
 noble traditions, refused tamely to accept 
 these terms. Under the leadership of Kos- 
 ciusko they formed the people’s insurrection. 
 
POLAND 143 
 
 Bravely they fought with all the valor and 
 courage of their ancestors. 
 
 Success was theirs — for a time. They de- 
 layed the Russian advance. They raised the 
 siege of Warsaw. They drove out the foreign 
 garrisons. Bit by bit they won back three- 
 fourths of their ancient territory. 
 
 Then Russia moved more troops up from 
 Turkey and hurled them against Poland. The 
 king of Prussia came himself to lead his armies. 
 In October of 1794 Kosciusko’s little force was 
 finally vanquished. 
 
 The following year saw the third and last 
 partition of the country. Austria, Russia and 
 Prussia each took a share. The names of the 
 districts were altered. The laws of Poland 
 were suspended. Another language was used. 
 
 The constitution of 1791, written on parch- 
 ment, lay in a beautiful casket in the Kremlin 
 palace at Moscow. From the map of Europe 
 the word Poland was erased. So came to an 
 end the history of the Polish republic. 
 
 But it was not the end of the Polish nation. 
 The combined might of her three despoilers, 
 even of all Europe could not kill this people 
 that had such a passionate will to live. They 
 were unconquerable. 
 
144 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 They were a nation with a great and noble 
 past through a thousand years of history. F or 
 centuries they had stood as the bulwark of 
 Europe against the invasions of Turk and 
 Mongol from the east. Persecuted and dis- 
 owned after this third partition, their spiritual 
 force grew not the less, but greater. 
 
 The third of May shall be celebrated each 
 year to keep alive the memory of the new con- 
 stitution, had been the decree of the Diet. For 
 more than a century the day was celebrated, 
 though often and often in secret. Fathers told 
 its story to their children and pledged them 
 anew in loyal service to Poland. Mothers told 
 their sons and promised when they were old 
 enough, they too should fight for Poland. 
 From generation to generation they trans- 
 mitted the watchword of protest against a for- 
 eign yoke. 
 
 At every change in Europe, in the wars of 
 Napoleon, in the many struggles in which 
 Austria and Russia and Prussia had a part, the 
 Poles too fought. Now they were on this side, 
 now on that, wherever there seemed a chance 
 to fight for Poland. The name and fame of 
 the Polish Legion was like that of their ances- 
 tors’ regiment of hussars distinguished by the 
 
POLAND 
 
 145 
 
 splendid wings of eagles’ feathers, which on 
 many a battlefield charged the foe and swept 
 all before them. 
 
 Time after time the Poles rose in revolt 
 against Russia. They were determined that 
 some day there should be again a Poland on 
 the map of Europe. This was their great 
 dream, the vision which held them to their diffi- 
 cult task. It kept them loyal and patriotic 
 in spite of persecution and sufferings. 
 
 In front of the Polish Museum at Rapper- 
 swill in Switzerland — for even their national 
 museum was exiled — stands a great column 
 bearing the dates of all these insurrections. 
 Each generation has witnessed one or more. 
 Always Poland waited for the favorable mo- 
 ment to regain her independence. Interrupted 
 but not ended was her role in history. In the 
 hearts of Poles their country never ceased to 
 live. Her freedom was their one ideal. 
 
 After a hundred and twenty years of mis- 
 fortune and defeat and disappointments the 
 world war brought the opportunity for which 
 Poland had been waiting. In the discussions 
 following the armistice of November, 1918 she 
 asked a hearing. In the shifting of boundaries 
 made by the treaty of Versailles the country 
 
146 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 was recreated. On the new map of Europe 
 Poland shows. She has a new constitution 
 more democratic than that of 1791, just as it 
 was more progressive than the constitution of 
 any state in Europe of that day. 
 
 No longer is the third of May celebrated in 
 secret. No longer is there any fear that the 
 parades in Warsaw will be scattered by Cos- 
 sacks with their terrible whips. No longer do 
 Polish fathers pledge their sons to fight for 
 Poland. Now young and old, they pledge 
 themselves to serve her loyally and well. 
 
 Under the new flag of white and red, the 
 flag of the new Poland, they celebrate the third 
 of May. 
 
IN THE CORNER OF A SOUTHERN 
 CHURCHYARD 
 
 THE THIRTIETH OF MAY 
 
 “Oh, what lovely roses 1” 
 
 “What beautiful lilacs you have! How 
 fragrant they are!” 
 
 As they went toward the churchyard the lit- 
 tle group of women exclaimed over the flowers 
 they carried. But their thoughts were far 
 away with the army of Virginia or with the 
 troops defending Vicksburg. They thought 
 too of the soldiers in gray who had given their 
 lives at Shiloh and Corinth and Stone River. 
 N ot one of these southern women but had lost 
 husband or son or brother in those desperate 
 battles. 
 
 Two short years before they had seen the 
 beginning of the war. There had been flags 
 proudly waving, the rat-a-tat of drums, the 
 silver bugles calling, the dauntless fife; then 
 the parting and their men marching away un- 
 der the stars and bars. 
 
 147 
 
148 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 Since then there had been for the women of 
 the South suffering and weary waiting; and 
 for the men in gray long marches, battlefield 
 and whirlwind charge, guard kept in wild 
 storm or under the quiet stars, and for some of 
 them hospital days and death. 
 
 On that April morning in 1863 this little 
 group of women in Columbus, Mississippi 
 went together to decorate the graves of their 
 soldier dead. Roses, lilacs, lilies, all the flow- 
 ers of that spring month they had gathered. 
 Over the low mounds in the churchyard they 
 strewed their blossoms, shedding tears in 
 memory of their loved ones. 
 
 “Oh!” cried a woman of the group, “what 
 are you doing?” 
 
 Having finished decorating the grave of her 
 two sons an elderly lady was walking up the 
 path toward a corner of the churchyard. Her 
 arms were filled with lilacs and roses, red and 
 white. 
 
 “Do you forget,” the first woman cried, 
 “whose graves those are? They’re two L T nion 
 soldiers. They’re Yankees who — ” 
 
 “Hush!” said the mother of the two heroes. 
 “You are wrong. I do not forget. They are 
 
MEMORIAL DAY 
 
 149 
 
 nameless graves marking where two soldiers 
 lie buried. But somewhere in the North, in 
 some city or little village or perhaps in some 
 lonely farmhouse, a mother or a young wife or 
 sweetheart mourns for them just as you and I 
 grieve for our dead.” 
 
 She turned back to the unmarked graves 
 and stooped down. Gently she pushed aside 
 the long grass. Tenderly she spread her flow- 
 ers over the two mounds. With tears in her 
 eyes, but with her head held proudly she faced 
 the women who had silently gathered about 
 her. 
 
 “We bring these flowers,” she pointed to the 
 grave of her sons, then to others decked with 
 blossoms, “to express our love and devotion. 
 They are dead, our heroes of the South. They 
 are dead, these unknown soldiers of the North, 
 lying here in our churchyard in Columbus in 
 nameless graves. But when the war is over 
 and peace comes again we shall call them all 
 heroes. So here are my lilacs and my roses, 
 red and white and blue, for both alike.” 
 
 “And mine.” 
 
 “And mine.” 
 
 “And mine too,” said the other women 
 
150 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 softly as they added their flowers to the lovely 
 blossoms on the unmarked graves in the cor- 
 ner. 
 
 The next April and the next the women of 
 Columbus repeated this beautiful deed though 
 with each year their privations and suffering 
 were greater, the losses of the South more ir- 
 reparable. More and more graves filled the 
 churchyard, graves of brave Southerners who 
 fell at Vicksburg and Chancellorsville, at Get- 
 tysburg and in the Wilderness ; graves of brave 
 Northerners who died in the South fighting 
 for the Union. 
 
 More and more women joined the group that 
 went each spring to decorate the graves of sol- 
 diers who had worn the gray, who had worn 
 the blue. With their flowers they covered all 
 the mounds in the churchyard as impartially 
 as the sunshine falls upon the just and the 
 unjust. 
 
 A little thing perhaps — to strew blossoms 
 on a grave. But from this act of the women 
 of Columbus came, the most beautiful of our 
 holidays. 
 
 When the fighting had been over for two 
 years, but while there were still great bitter- 
 ness and resentment in many hearts both 
 
MEMORIAL DAY 
 
 151 
 
 North and South, the New York Tribune 
 printed a brief dispatch telling the story of 
 these southern women. In towns and villages 
 all through the northern states that paragraph 
 was republished. The people were thrilled 
 with tenderness. Their hearts were touched. 
 As nothing else could have done, those few 
 sentences called out friendship and love to re- 
 place sectional hatred and passion. 
 
 “Flowers for the graves of northern and 
 southern soldiers alike — for the blue and for 
 the gray!” exclaimed the North. “Peace has 
 come indeed. We are not enemies, but 
 friends. With malice toward none, with 
 charity for all— and it is the bereaved, suffer- 
 ing women of the South who set us the exam- 
 ple. We are brothers again, not foes. No 
 longer a North and a South, but the Union. 
 And Union means peace and harmony and 
 good will.” 
 
 Early in May of 1868 it was suggested to 
 General John A. Logan, then national com- 
 mander of the G. A. R., that their organiza- 
 tion borrow this beautiful custom and have a 
 uniform day for decorating the graves of their 
 fallen comrades. Logan issued an order nam- 
 ing the thirtieth of May, choosing this date be- 
 
152 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 cause it marked the discharge of the last sol- 
 dier in the Union army. 
 
 Touched by the story of the Mississippi 
 women and the beauty of their custom, state 
 after state in the North declared this day a 
 holiday. In some of the southern states May 
 tenth is observed. Louisiana has the third 
 of June. In four states it is April twenty- 
 sixth. 
 
 Throughout the South, throughout the 
 North, not a city or town or village but sent 
 its men to the war, dressed in blue or dressed 
 in gray. To some of those homes, North and 
 South, soldiers came not back when the war 
 was ended. So North and South alike honor 
 them with the coming of each springtime. 
 
 As nature covers over scars of battle and 
 decorates with her living green, so the strewing 
 of flowers on the graves of our soldiers has 
 been an effective agent in healing over the 
 wounds of civil war. The suffering, the ter- 
 ror, the losses of the war North and South 
 alike regret. But in that struggle the nation 
 was remade. Fighting, falling, dying were the 
 steps toward the future when we should be in- 
 deed one nation, united and inseparable. 
 
 Not holidays, but holy days are these me- 
 
MEMORIAL DAY 
 
 153 
 
 morial days when North and South pause in 
 the busy work of the modern world and pay 
 tribute to the heroes in blue and in gray who 
 lost their lives that the Union might endure. 
 Nor do we remember only the soldiers of the 
 civil war. In 1899 the veterans of the Spanish 
 war began decorating the graves of their com- 
 rades. In May of 1919 men who had fought in 
 France and in the fields of Flanders paid trib- 
 ute to their soldier dead. Peasant women and 
 children of France living near the battle front 
 gathered flowers to lay on the graves of Ameri- 
 can soldiers who had died overseas. 
 
 “We do this,” they explained simply, “not 
 as strangers, but for their mothers who are far 
 away.” 
 
 Lilacs, roses red and white, the poppies that 
 grow in Flanders fields, wild flowers from the 
 roadside — all serve for our memorial days. 
 With love and tears we pay this honor to our 
 soldiers. And in the doing we rekindle our 
 own patriotism and dedicate ourselves anew 
 to the nation for which they sacrificed their 
 lives. 
 
“WE MUST ALL HANG TOGETHER” 
 
 THE FOURTH OF JULY 
 
 In the city of Philadelphia that eighth of 
 July in the year 1776 there was eager discus- 
 sion. Everywhere was an undercurrent of 
 excitement. It seemed to center around the 
 red brick State House. 
 
 People began to gather — men and women, 
 a few children. More and more came until 
 there was a crowd in the yard, standing close 
 up around the platform that had been built 
 for quite another purpose — built seven years 
 before by a scientific society for astronomical 
 observations. 
 
 In the air was a tense, overwrought feeling 
 that increased as time passed and noon came 
 nearer. The crowd in the State House yard 
 was very grave. This was a solemn occasion. 
 However things ended this was a crisis in the 
 affairs of the colonies. 
 
 Thoughtful men in that Quaker city had 
 watched for years the ebb and flow of a tide 
 
 154 
 
INDEPENDENCE DAY 155 
 
 in the relations of England to her settlements 
 in the new world. The closing of the port of 
 Boston, the sending of British troops and 
 quartering them on the people, the orders to 
 arrest Hancock and Adams, the expedition 
 to Lexington and Concord — these had been 
 successive stages of the tide. 
 
 Slow but never stopping, of late it had been 
 coming with a rush and a roar. When fight- 
 ing began at the green in Lexington and at 
 the Concord bridge there was scarcely a man in 
 all America who talked of independence. 
 They were Englishmen asking, demanding 
 from Parliament and king their rights as loyal 
 subjects of George III. But now, as when 
 each fresh wave rolls in with ever rising 
 strength, now the sentiment in favor of inde- 
 pendence had been growing stronger and 
 stronger. 
 
 So a tall, grave sailor talked with two 
 friends in the crowd that Monday morning in 
 
 July. 
 
 “You’re wrong to say the tide,” interposed 
 his companion. “That comes and goes each 
 day, nay, twice a day. This is something 
 deeper, stronger, more important in every way. 
 Why don’t you compare it to a glacier whose 
 
156 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 movement may be slow at first, but increases 
 as it moves down the mountain side? This 
 didn’t begin a year ago last April. Why, man, 
 you want to go back at least eleven years, back 
 to the stamp act and Patrick Henry’s speech, 
 back to the war with the F rench and the ques- 
 tion of how its debts were to be paid.” 
 
 “Aye, he’s right there,” said the third man. 
 “And thou art right too when thou sayest no- 
 body, or maybe a dozen men in all these thir- 
 teen colonies, thought of independence a year 
 ago. Today it’s on every man’s tongue. ’Tis 
 the king himself who’s driven us to it. Injus- 
 tice has killed our affection for him. Proof 
 that the people have been thinking it over? 
 Look at the crowd out this Monday noon when 
 the sheriff is to read the new declaration that 
 Congress voted for last Thursday.” 
 
 “It was that young lawyer from Virginia 
 said we raised our army with no idea of sepa- 
 ration from the mother country. And now,” 
 commented the sailor with a smile, “they say 
 he’s the very man who wrote this declaration of 
 independence.” 
 
 “Aye, but that was a year ago. Think of 
 what’s happened since — the royal governors 
 driven out of Virginia and North Carolina, 
 
INDEPENDENCE DAY 157 
 
 Norfolk bombarded, Portland burned, Canada 
 invaded, the British forced to give up Boston, 
 the Hessians hired to fight us.” 
 
 “What a catalogue you roll up! Isn’t it al- 
 most a farce when we’ve been fighting for more 
 than a year, to keep on talking of ourselves as 
 loyal Englishmen instead of independent 
 Americans?” 
 
 “Thou’rt quoting Tom Paine and his fa- 
 mous pamphlet, Common Sense. A man 
 must agree with much he says. But it’s so 
 grave a business, friend. Our hands once put 
 to the plough there’s no turning back.” 
 
 “Look, there comes the committee of safety.” 
 There was more than one straw showing 
 that the wind of public opinion was pointing in 
 a new direction. As early as May of ’75 a 
 county in North Carolina had adopted resolu- 
 tions touching on independence and sent them 
 to their delegates in the Continental Congress 
 at Philadelphia. But they thought the time 
 not yet ripe to lay the suggestion before that 
 body. 
 
 Waiting a year North Carolina instructed 
 her representatives to concur with other mem- 
 bers of Congress in a declaration of independ- 
 ence. In May Virginia went a step farther 
 
158 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 and told her delegates to propose such a dec- 
 laration. Georgia and Rhode Island and 
 South Carolina expressed a willingness to 
 agree to any measures which Congress thought 
 would promote the general welfare. All dur- 
 ing May town meetings in Massachusetts put 
 themselves on record in favor of independence. 
 
 A j^ear ago that very month Massachusetts 
 had framed a government for herself, which 
 in no way recognized the king of England. 
 New Hampshire had followed her example, 
 then South Carolina. In May Congress ad- 
 vised the other colonies to form new r govern- 
 ments, changing themselves into states because 
 George III had withdrawn his protection. 
 Wasn’t that almost a declaration of independ- 
 ence? After hot debate and earnest opposi- 
 tion from the middle colonies Congress voted 
 for this measure. 
 
 That May was an interesting month in Phila- 
 delphia, and June more so. On Friday the 
 seventh, obeying the instructions of his colony 
 of Virginia, Richard Henry Lee, the oldest 
 member of the delegation, rose and read to 
 Congress a resolution “that these United Col- 
 onies are, and of right ought to be, free and in- 
 dependent States ; that they are absolved from 
 
INDEPENDENCE DAY 
 
 159 
 
 all allegiance to the British Crown; and that 
 all political connection between them and the 
 State of Great Britain is, and ought to be, to- 
 tally dissolved.” The next paragraph pro- 
 posed that a plan of confederation be prepared 
 and sent to the colonies for consideration. In- 
 dependence and union hand in hand ! 
 
 Quickly John Adams of Massachusetts sec- 
 onded the proposal. The debate began at 
 once and continued on Saturday and Monday. 
 Two men from Pennsylvania and Livingston 
 of New York led the opposition. The people 
 of the middle colonies, they said, were not 
 ready to break off relations with the mother 
 country. 
 
 “The Tories are stronger in New York than 
 elsewhere,” they urged. “Our grievances are 
 fewer. We have more to risk than any other 
 colony— invasion from Canada, an attack by 
 the powerful British fleet, on the west the ter- 
 rible Iroquois, at every point we are exposed. 
 Indeed we’re not less patriotic than other 
 places. But wait — perhaps a change of min- 
 isters in England will adjust all our diffi- 
 culties.” 
 
 Pushed to the wall they acknowledged that 
 lingering hopes of settling the trouble were a 
 
160 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 dream and a delusion. Yet they hesitated to 
 take the final step. 
 
 “The middle colonies,” commented Jeffer- 
 son comparing them to fruit in an orchard, 
 “are not yet matured for falling from the par- 
 ent stem, but fast advancing to that state.” 
 
 It was highly important that all the colonies 
 think together and work together. If the van- 
 guard was marching too fast the laggards must 
 be given time to catch up. Further discussion 
 was postponed until the first day of July. By 
 that time Congress could hear from those col- 
 onies which had not yet declared themselves. 
 
 But they must guard against losing time 
 when the resolution was taken up again. A 
 committee was named to prepare a declaration 
 of independence, to be ready when wanted. 
 Its members were chosen by vote: Thomas 
 
 Jefferson of Virginia, John Adams, Dr. 
 Franklin, Roger Sherman of Connecticut and 
 Robert R. Livingston of Yew York— three 
 lawyers, a printer and a shoemaker. Richard 
 Henry Lee was absent, suddenly called to Vir- 
 ginia by the illness of his wife. 
 
 The committee met and with one voice the 
 four members urged that Jefferson write the 
 declaration stating the reasons for the war and 
 
INDEPENDENCE DAY 
 
 161 
 
 for separation from England. He was only 
 thirty-two, but they all knew why he had been 
 chosen, with more votes than any of them. He 
 was no orator, but a brilliant writer. He had 
 a ready and eloquent pen. America called 
 upon him now to use it. And there was an- 
 other motive. Jefferson had no enemies. He 
 had taken no share in the debates in Congress. 
 There would be no risk of any interference 
 from personal feelings. Therefore the mem- 
 bers had put him first on the committee. The 
 natural result was that he did the bulk of its 
 work. 
 
 In a new brick house at what is now the 
 corner of Market and Seventh Streets, but was 
 then out in the fields Jefferson had rented a 
 furnished parlor and bedroom on the second 
 floor. In that parlor, writing on a little desk 
 three inches high, he spent three weeks on a 
 first draft. 
 
 He was the mouthpiece of America. With- 
 out using books or pamphlets he wrote out in 
 clear, plain paragraphs what the people had 
 been thinking and saying. Here and there he 
 changed phrases. He hunted for just the 
 right word to express his meaning and not give 
 undue offense. Frequently he stopped to take 
 
162 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 up his beloved violin and play. In time of 
 work and stress it never failed to divert him. 
 
 Before the end of June he showed his paper 
 to Franklin and to Adams separately. He 
 asked for corrections. Only two or three they 
 were; you can see them, interlined in their 
 handwritings, in the original draft in the De- 
 partment of State in Washington. 
 
 Then the committee was called together. 
 The report with the suggestions of Adams and 
 Franklin embodied in it was adopted. Jeffer- 
 son wrote out a fresh copy. 
 
 Quickly June passed into July. On Mon- 
 day the first the fifty members of Congress de- 
 clared themselves a committee of the whole and 
 took up the Lee resolution. There was more 
 debate and a vote was called for. Now in the 
 Continental Congress members voted not as 
 individuals, but as colonies. Three to two, or 
 six to five, or eight to one, the majority of votes 
 in each delegation determined the vote of that 
 colony, yes or no, for or against any motion. 
 A two-thirds vote w r as necessary to carry, nine 
 out of thirteen. 
 
 On the Lee resolution nine voted yes. No, 
 said Pennsylvania and South Carolina. Dela- 
 ware could not vote: she had three delegates, 
 
INDEPENDENCE DAY 163 
 
 one said yes, one no, the third was absent on a 
 trip through the lower counties of his state 
 arguing against the loyalists. New York too 
 did not vote. 
 
 “We are in favor of the resolution,” ex- 
 plained her delegates, “and believe our citizens 
 are. But we’re still under instructions drawn 
 up a year ago which strictly forbid us to take 
 anv action against reconciliation with Eng- 
 land.” 
 
 This was however a preliminary ballot. At 
 the request of South Carolina the final vote 
 was postponed till the next day. Then the re- 
 sult was quite different: after a night ride of 
 eighty miles the missing Delaware man arrived 
 and voted yes; Pennsylvania changed her vote 
 because two members opposed to the resolu- 
 tion stayed away; South Carolina now said 
 yes, that the records might show Congress 
 unanimously in favor of independence. Again 
 New York cast no vote, but a few days later 
 the state convention sent its approval of the 
 Lee resolution. 
 
 The Rubicon was crossed. The thirteen 
 English colonies had become the United States 
 of America. It was a bold step they were tak- 
 ing. For the sake of safety Congress directed 
 
164 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 the secretary to omit from the journal the 
 names of Lee and Adams as mover and sec- 
 onder of the resolution. 
 
 Later that day the delegates took up the 
 committee’s report on the declaration of inde- 
 pendence. The debate began. It lasted for 
 hours, all the next day and till a late hour on 
 Thursday, the fourth. It seemed indeed as 
 though discussion would go on endlessly. Per- 
 haps it might have at any other time of the 
 year. 
 
 The weather was very hot. Close by the 
 State House was a stable from which horse- 
 flies swarmed, thick and fierce. They lit on 
 the legs of the delegates and bit through their 
 thin silk stockings. 
 
 “Better treason than to be so uncomfort- 
 able,” whispered one member to another. 
 “Let’s call for a vote to escape these flies.” 
 
 Treason? Yes, every man there knew how 
 important was the step they were taking. 
 Once adopt this report of the committee, once 
 declare their independence of England, and 
 there was no going back. To the mother coun- 
 try they were bound by many ties — ties of 
 blood and speech, of daily life and intercourse, 
 of thought and business. They had the same 
 
INDEPENDENCE DAY 165 
 
 ideals, the same hopes, the same beliefs. 
 
 Separate themselves from England? That 
 meant war to the bitter end. The king’s 
 armies were still in the land. Not always were 
 the colonists victorious. George III had 
 money and men without limit and credit every- 
 where. The Americans had no funds and no 
 credit. A straggling chain of settlements 
 clinging to the seaboard, they were defying the 
 greatest power in the world. 
 
 If they won, well and good. If they lost, 
 the hangman’s rope for traitors. For the lead- 
 ers in civil and military circles this was a choice 
 of independence or ruin with no middle 
 ground. 
 
 It was a dangerous step they were consider- 
 ing and was so regarded in London. Lee’s 
 son was there at school. One day a visitor 
 asked, “Who is that?” 
 
 “The son of Richard Henry Lee of 
 America.” 
 
 “Ah.” The man turned to the lad. “We 
 shall yet see your father’s head upon Tower 
 
 Hill.” 
 
 “You may have it when you can get it,” re- 
 plied young Lee. 
 
 For three days the members discussed Jeff- 
 
166 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 erson’s draft for their declaration of independ- 
 ence. Some changes they made for greater 
 accuracy of statement. One paragraph they 
 voted to omit entirely — the one denouncing 
 George III for encouraging the slave trade. 
 True, he had done all that Jefferson said. But 
 was it wise to denounce the king when this 
 trade was carried on by northern shipowners 
 for southern purchasers? 
 
 A second passage Congress omitted, a state- 
 ment that the hiring of foreign troops by the 
 English must “cause us to endeavor to forget 
 our former love for them.” Better not say a 
 word that could be construed as a reflection on 
 the English people. Our quarrel is with 
 George III, not with the people of England. 
 
 During all this discussion Thomas Jefferson 
 spoke not once. Perhaps this was because he 
 did not feel able to hold his own in so strenu- 
 ous a contest of oratory. Perhaps he thought 
 it his duty to be a passive listener to the com- 
 ments of impartial judges. But he was far 
 from cheerful while sharp criticisms were be- 
 ing made. 
 
 Benjamin Franklin sitting by him saw the 
 young Virginian writhe more than once under 
 some bitter speech. By way of comfort he 
 
INDEPENDENCE DAY 167 
 
 said, “You know, Jefferson, the story of John 
 Thompson the hatter?” 
 
 The author of the declaration shook his head. 
 
 “He was one of my apprentice friends who 
 was going to open shop for himself. He or- 
 dered a handsome signboard with the inscrip- 
 tion, John Thompson , Hatter, makes and sells 
 hats for ready money, with the figure of a hat. 
 He submitted it to some friends for their 
 amendments. The first thought the word 
 Hatter unnecessary. It was struck out. The 
 next said makes might as well be omitted, be- 
 cause customers didn’t care who made the hats. 
 It was painted over. A third observed for 
 ready money was useless, as it wasn’t the cus- 
 tom to sell on credit. r Sells V said the next 
 friend, ‘why, nobody expects you to give them 
 away.’ Sells was left out. ‘Why hats, when 
 there’s one painted on the board?’ asked an- 
 other. So the inscription was reduced to John 
 Thompson with the picture of a hat.” 
 
 Wisely Jefferson kept out of the debate. 
 The burden of upholding the committee fell 
 to John Adams. So gallantly he bore it that 
 the author said afterward, “He was our Colos- 
 sus on the floor.” 
 
 Congress adopted the committee’s declara- 
 
168 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 tion of independence. John Hancock as presi- 
 dent and Thomson as secretary of Congress 
 signed it, Hancock making his large, familiar 
 signature that reached across the page and say- 
 ing jestingly, “There! John Bull can read 
 that without spectacles. Now let him double 
 the price on my head, for this is my defiance.” 
 Then he became serious and impressed on his 
 fellow-delegates the necessity of their stand- 
 ing together in this matter. “Gentlemen, we 
 must all hang together. We must be unani- 
 mous. There must be no pulling different 
 ways.” 
 
 “Yes,” said Franklin with his quaint, dry 
 humor, “we must all hang together or most as- 
 suredly we shall all hang separately.” 
 
 “When it comes to the hanging,” said big, 
 bluff Harrison from Virginia to the meager, 
 little Gerry of Massachusetts, “I shall have the 
 advantage of you. It’ll all be over with me be- 
 fore you’ve done kicking in the air.” 
 
 The hangman’s rope for traitors to England 
 was never far from their minds. The business 
 of Congress went on. It was voted that the 
 committee which had prepared it should super- 
 intend and correct the printing of the declara- 
 tion; that copies should be sent to all commit- 
 
INDEPENDENCE DAY 169 
 
 tees of safety, to army officers, to all the states ; 
 that it should be proclaimed in each state and 
 at the head of the army. Congress ordered 
 further that at noon on the eighth of July at 
 the State House in Philadelphia the sheriff 
 should read it in public, and that the members 
 of the committee of safety should meet at their 
 chamber and proceed in a body to the State 
 House. 
 
 But of all these details the good people of 
 Philadelphia knew little or nothing. Sessions 
 of Congress were in secret behind closed doors. 
 Not till after the fourth had come and gone did 
 the citizens learn that Thursday was the birth- 
 day of a new nation. On the sixth a Phila- 
 delphia newspaper printed the declaration. 
 
 Word had spread abroad of what was to 
 happen on the eighth. The sailor and his 
 friends with a great crowd of people watched 
 the committee of safety take their places. 
 Colonel John Nixon, it was announced, would 
 read the declaration of independence. The 
 sheriff had invited him to do this, perhaps be- 
 cause he was in charge of the city’s defense, 
 perhaps because he had a fine, far-carrying 
 voice. 
 
 The people were very quiet. Slowly, dis- 
 
170 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 tinctly, impressively the colonel began: 
 “When in the course of human events — ” 
 Men were leaning forward to hear the better. 
 “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that 
 all men are created equal, that they are en- 
 dowed — ” Then followed the announcement 
 of political rights applying to all mankind. 
 “Let facts be submitted to a candid world.” 
 
 Sentence by sentence Nixon read the 
 twenty-seven grievances of the colonies which 
 justified the Revolution. The crowd in the 
 yard was hushed. They realized the tremen- 
 dous importance of this step. Impressively, 
 but with a voice no longer steady the colonel 
 came to the closing paragraph, the ringing, 
 fearless statement that the colonies were free 
 and independent states and that for the sup- 
 port of this declaration the delegates pledged 
 their lives, their fortunes and their sacred 
 honor. 
 
 Applause followed the reading and a mur- 
 mur of heartfelt satisfaction. The bell in the 
 wooden steeple of the State House began to 
 ring, the bell from London which bore those 
 marvelous words from the Bible, “Proclaim 
 liberty throughout all the land, unto all the in- 
 habitants thereof.” 
 
INDEPENDENCE DAY 171 
 
 The following day Washington ordered the 
 declaration read to every brigade of the army 
 in New York City. Near where the City Hall 
 now stands the troops paraded and listened 
 while their officers read Jefferson’s paper. 
 The soldiers greeted it with loud cheers. That 
 night the gilded lead statue of George III in 
 Bowling Green was pulled down and melted 
 to make bullets to be fired against the king’s 
 men. 
 
 Meanwhile swift couriers had been sent out 
 from Philadelphia carrying copies of the dec- 
 laration from the press of John Dunlop. 
 From town to town, from colony to colony 
 they spread the news. Everywhere from New 
 Hampshire down to Georgia the people re- 
 joiced at the glad tidings. There were ban- 
 quets and bonfires, illumination of houses, fir- 
 ing of cannon, flying of flags. 
 
 Nothing up to that time had brought the col- 
 onists so close together, rallying the thirteen 
 peoples into one earnest body of patriots. 
 They had announced to the world their inde- 
 pendence. Together they would fight till it 
 was won, till the English king and Parliament 
 acknowledged this new nation across the At- 
 lantic. 
 
172 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 A fine copy of the declaration was made, en- 
 grossed on parchment. On the second of 
 August it was brought into Congress for the 
 members to sign. Again Hancock wrote his 
 name in the same large letters. Again there 
 was joking among the members to hide their 
 serious thoughts. Were they signing warrants 
 for their own execution? 
 
 “You’re safe,” some one said when Charles 
 Carroll signed, “for there are so many Carrolls 
 in Maryland the king will never know where 
 to find you.” 
 
 “I’ll show him,” was the answer and Carroll 
 wrote “of Carrollton” after his name. 
 
 Because of this delay of nearly a month the 
 parchment copy with the signatures of the 
 delegates, the copy preserved in Washington, 
 does not represent exactly the Congress that 
 met on the fourth of July. iVll who voted for 
 it did not sign it. Some signed in August 
 who were not members a month earlier. 
 
 May thirty-first, 1775, when a Carolina 
 county took the first step looking toward inde- 
 pendence; June seventh when Lee introduced 
 his resolution; the second of July when it was 
 voted on; July the fourth when Jefferson’s 
 declaration of independence was adopted; the 
 
INDEPENDENCE DAY 173 
 
 second of August when it was formally signed 
 — which is the birthday of the nation? 
 
 Adams said the credit was Richard Henry 
 Lee’s and the second of July would be remem- 
 bered always and celebrated as a day of de- 
 liverance from one end of the country to the 
 other. But by common consent the people of 
 America settled on the fourth of July. It has 
 been known ever since as the birthday of the 
 republic, founded on principles of liberty and 
 justice. 
 
 With speeches and ringing of bells, with 
 firing of cannon and flying of flags, with an im- 
 pressive public reading of the declaration of 
 independence we keep this holiday in all the 
 states of the Union, now grown from thirteen 
 to forty-eight, much as the news was celebrated 
 in 1776. With each year deeper grows our 
 love of independence and our gratitude to 
 those members of the Continental Congress 
 who hung together lest they should hang separ- 
 ately. 
 
AN EMPEROR S SAFE-CONDUCT 
 
 THE SIXTH OF JULY 
 
 This is a holiday in Czechoslovakia. Every- 
 where flags are flying, flags of white and red 
 with a blue triangle. There are flags flying 
 in Prague, at the university, at the old bridge, 
 and in Bethlehem Square where once stood the 
 famous chapel. There are flags out today in 
 the village of Husinec near the Bavarian front- 
 ier. In every part of Czechoslovakia people 
 stop their work to pay tribute to the greatest 
 Czech in history. 
 
 Miles away in Switzerland, in the city of 
 Constance visitors are making a pilgrimage to 
 the tablet-marked house at 66 Husenstrasse, 
 and to the Merchants’ Exchange where the 
 great council met, and to the cathedral to seek 
 out the stone slab in the nave, twelve paces 
 from the entrance, where more than five cen- 
 turies ago, on this very sixth of July, a man 
 stood to receive sentence. They drive out to 
 
 the Briihl, a beautiful meadow half a mile be- 
 
 174 
 
CZECHOSLOVAKIA 175 
 
 yond the city walls, and lay their flowers on an 
 ivy-covered boulder. 
 
 Since that long ago sixth of July in 1415 
 Bohemians have kept this day. But notice! 
 Many of the flags in Prague and Husinec are 
 at half mast. 
 
 This is not an ordinary holiday. It cele- 
 brates not a great victory, a happy birthday, 
 or some event that helped to make Bohemia 
 free. It is not famous for a king or for a gen- 
 eral or for a statesman. Yet it is kept by all 
 Bohemia — rich and poor, old and young, Pro- 
 testant and Catholic, peasant and noble. 
 
 It is Jan Hus day. 
 
 Not a general ? Not a ruler ? Not a states- 
 man ? No, Hus was a preacher. Who would 
 have prophesied a great future for him when in 
 1889 fatherless and poor he left his home in 
 the village of Husinec to go up to the univer- 
 sity of Prague? So poor he was, all he had to 
 offer to the rector for his admission as a stu- 
 dent was a goose, with a cake his mother had 
 baked. But on the journey, says the old leg- 
 end, the goose flew away. So the rector re- 
 ceived only the cake. So poor he was that he 
 sang on the street and in churches to earn a 
 few pennies. 
 
176 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 Yet Jan Hus made himself a scholar and a 
 leader. He was in turn student, bachelor 
 of arts, then master. He lectured, served as 
 dean of one of the faculties, and was finally 
 rector of the university. In 1400 he was or- 
 dained a priest. 
 
 Two years later he became the preacher at 
 the Bethlehem Chapel. A large church that 
 must have been, for it seated a thousand per- 
 sons. Two rich merchants had built and en- 
 dowed it with the condition that its sermons 
 must be in the Bohemian tongue. People of 
 all classes thronged to hear Hus preach. His 
 pulpit was like a throne. His influence was 
 as great, sometimes greater than king’s or 
 archbishop’s. 
 
 Fearless he was in all he preached. Over 
 and over he denounced the idle rich for their 
 misdeeds, denounced the clergy for selling 
 church offices, for their worldliness and greed. 
 Like the challenge of a John the Baptist his 
 fearless words rang out. Men who felt them- 
 selves accused resolved to silence this preacher 
 who praised poverty and virtue and self-sacri- 
 fice. 
 
 Many enemies he had — parish priests who 
 were envious of his popularity; the foreign 
 
CZECHOSLOVAKIA 
 
 1T7 
 
 professors in the university, for Hus was a de- 
 voted patriot and the champion of Bohemia; 
 the higher clergy and prelates of the church 
 whose lives he condemned; and the monks 
 whose wealth he disapproved. 
 
 But he had also many friends — the common 
 people who flocked to the chapel in Bethlehem 
 Square because of his marvelous eloquence and 
 his piety; many of the nobles at court; Queen 
 Sophia whose confessor he was; and for some 
 time the king. 
 
 One day a nobleman complained at court 
 that Jan Hus was attacking the idle rich for 
 their besetting sins. The king summoned the 
 archbishop and told him to warn this fiery 
 preacher to be more cautious in his language. 
 
 “No, your Majesty,” replied the archbishop, 
 “no. Hus is bound by his ordination oath to 
 speak the truth without respect of persons.” 
 The king must perforce agree. Presently 
 the attacks were turned from nobles to clergy. 
 Again there was complaint at court. 
 
 “Your Majesty,” the archbishop urged, 
 “this fiery preacher must be warned to be more 
 cautious in his language. His words are too 
 rash. They do more harm than good.” 
 
 “No,” replied the king, “no. Hus is bound 
 
178 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 by his oath to speak the truth without respect 
 of persons.” 
 
 Only a few years before Wycliffe had been 
 teaching in England some of the doctrines J an 
 Hus taught in Bohemia. Did he learn of 
 Wvcliffe’s books through the king’s sister, the 
 bride of Richard II of England? or through 
 some English students, graduates of Oxford, 
 who came to Prague ? 
 
 The university declared forty-five articles 
 quoted from Wycliffe’s writings to be heresy. 
 Hus protested, but in vain. The archbishop 
 of Prague demanded that all copies of these 
 books be given to him. In the courtyard of 
 his palace two hundred of them were burned 
 while the church bells tolled and the priests 
 chanted. 
 
 Now at that time books were few and costly. 
 Parchment was precious. Scribes penned the 
 letters by hand with long hours of labor. The 
 king ordered the full value of the burned books 
 to be paid to the owners. Humiliated and em- 
 barrassed, the archbishop who till now had 
 been a friend of Jan Hus became angry with 
 him. Publicly he was excommunicated amid 
 the indignant shouts of the people. 
 
 In the Bethlehem Chapel this fearless 
 
CZECHOSLOVAKIA 179 
 
 preacher continued to speak — to thousands. 
 His listeners overflowed into the streets. 
 
 In 1412 two men arrived at Prague. Drum- 
 mers went before them to attract people’s at- 
 tention. In the market place they established 
 themselves. To all the passersby they called 
 out to enlist as soldiers in a crusade the pope 
 had declared against the king of Naples. In 
 return they would receive pardon for their 
 sins. Those who could not fight must give 
 money or goods and they too would receive in- 
 dulgences. 
 
 Here was another chance for Hus to de- 
 nounce the greed of the church. Like Martin 
 Luther a century later he posted on the chapel 
 doors a thesis denouncing this unholy traffic. 
 From the Bethlehem pulpit he thundered 
 against it. 
 
 He brought the matter before the university. 
 There was a stormy debate in the great hall. 
 Lius argued against the sale of indulgences. 
 He drew his material chiefly from the writings 
 of Wycliffe. The practise was declared un- 
 christian. The papal bull was burned. 
 
 In reply the pope excommunicated Jan Hus. 
 He was declared cut off from “food, 
 drink, buying and selling, from conversation 
 
180 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 and hospitality, from the giving of fire and 
 water and all other acts of kindness.” All 
 true members of the church w~ere forbidden to 
 have any intercourse with him. All religious 
 services were to be suspended in any town he 
 entered. 
 
 The answer of Hus was, “I appeal from the 
 pope to Christ.” 
 
 The whole city of Prague was laid under the 
 interdict. The churches were closed. Hop- 
 ing to end the conflict the king asked Hus to 
 retire for a time. Down to his birthplace at 
 Husinec went the preacher, “not,” said he, “to 
 deny the truth for which I am willing to die, 
 but because the church forbids the preaching 
 of it.” 
 
 Here for twenty months he preached — in the 
 villages, in castles, in fields and forests, in pub- 
 lic squares, wherever men would hear him. 
 Through the entire land his doctrines were 
 spreading. Everywhere he was gaining 
 friends and followers. 
 
 It was during these months of voluntary ex- 
 ile that Hus did the most of his literary work. 
 Fifteen books in Bohemian he wrote and sev- 
 eral in Latin. He revised the Bohemian trans- 
 lation of the Bible, made in the previous cen- 
 
CZECHOSLOVAKIA 
 
 181 
 
 tury. He wrote many hymns. Jealous for 
 the language of his people he devised a new 
 system of spelling, made rules for the many 
 different dialects, and purified it from German 
 words. How much the tongue of Bohemia 
 owes to the preacher of Bethlehem Chapel! 
 
 When in October of 1414 he returned to 
 Prague Hus was as popular and as fearless as 
 before. It was a time of alarms and unrest 
 and confusion. How could there be peace in 
 the university or in the city or in the kingdom ? 
 
 For this preacher, said his enemies, was a 
 dangerous reformer, a violent agitator. He 
 taught doctrines that had been condemned. 
 And he taught them with a flaming eloquence 
 that carried all before it. 
 
 A great council was to be held in Switzer- 
 land to make some reforms in the Catholic 
 church. Sigismund, the emperor of Germany, 
 summoned Hus to appear before this council 
 of Constance. He promised such ample pro- 
 tection for the journey that “he should come 
 unmolested to Constance, there have free 'right 
 of audience and, should he not submit to the 
 decision of the Council, he should return un- 
 harmed.” 
 
 Three Bohemian nobles were appointed to 
 
182 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 accompany Hus and assist him on the road. 
 On the eleventh of October the group set 
 forth though many of his friends begged Hus 
 not to go. 
 
 “You will never return to Prague,” they 
 prophesied sadly. 
 
 “I must go,” was his answer. “This is my 
 opportunity to vindicate my position. I must 
 prove that I believe and teach nothing con- 
 trary to the accepted faith of the church.” 
 
 The party arrived at Constance early in 
 November. In a little house near the Schnetz 
 gate Hus took up his lodging. 
 
 Not many days had passed when he had a 
 visit from three men who requested him to 
 come to the pope’s palace for a conference with 
 the cardinals. The place was surrounded by 
 soldiers. He had no choice but to go. The 
 good woman of the house took leave of him 
 with tears, fearing she would never see him 
 again. 
 
 “But I have the emperor’s safe-conduct!” 
 said Hus. 
 
 He lifted his hands to bless her and rode 
 away. 
 
 The cardinals asked a few questions. 
 
 “I am come,” was his reply, “to make my de- 
 
CZECHOSLOVAKIA 
 
 183 
 
 fense in open meeting, after the arrival of the 
 emperor under whose safe-conduct I am here.” 
 
 Of this his accusers took no heed. They 
 sent him to prison, not to the ordinary jail, but 
 to the dungeon of an old monastery on a little 
 island in the lake of Constance — the same 
 building that is today an hotel. Without 
 books or papers, without a Bible he was left 
 there alone. Such a miserable, underground 
 cell it was that he became very ill. 
 
 “It would never do to let him die !” exclaimed 
 his enemies. 
 
 The pope sent his own physician to treat this 
 Bohemian preacher. Hus was moved to a 
 convent where he was fettered day and night. 
 Like Paul in heavy chains he wrote letters to 
 his friends. 
 
 Not until Christmas Eve did the emperor 
 Sigismund arrive at Constance. Immediately 
 a group of Bohemian lords complained to him 
 of the imprisonment of Hus. He promised to 
 use his influence to secure the preacher’s free- 
 dom. 
 
 Now Sigismund had given this man his safe- 
 conduct. He knew that any violent measure 
 would result in trouble in Bohemia, perhaps 
 even in revolution. But his sympathies were 
 
184 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 all on the side of the church. He made only a 
 feeble protest. The council ignored it. 
 
 Days and weeks and months dragged by. 
 In March of 1415 the pope left Constance se- 
 cretly. Hus then became the prisoner of the 
 emperor who had full power to set him free. 
 But Sigismund was afraid of the church. He 
 did nothing. 
 
 The friends of Hus were finally allowed to 
 visit him in his cell. They found him stretched 
 on a wretched couch. He was wasted almost 
 to a skeleton. He had been scantily fed from 
 the pope’s table. Since his flight the prisoner 
 had been starving. With streaming eyes the 
 Bohemians lifted their hands to heaven and 
 prayed for an opportunity to avenge this cruel 
 wrong with their swords. 
 
 Again they protested to Sigismund. The 
 following day Hus was placed in charge of the 
 bishop of Constance who imprisoned him in 
 the tower of his castle. Here too he was kept 
 in chains. During the day he could move 
 about the room. At night his arm was chained 
 to the wall. Over two months he spent here 
 seeing no one, not allowed even to have letters. 
 
 After the pope’s case was finished, on the 
 fifth of June the council took up the charges 
 
CZECHOSLOVAKIA 
 
 185 
 
 against J an Hus. He asked for a lawyer to 
 advise him. 
 
 “A heretic,” they answered him, “is not en- 
 titled to counsel.” 
 
 “Well, then,” said Hus, “let Jesus be my 
 advocate.” 
 
 From that moment he knew that he was al- 
 ready condemned. But he continued the fight 
 not for life, but for the truth. 
 
 At his first sentence of defense a furious 
 storm of contradiction and denunciation broke 
 out. It was impossible for him to answer. 
 
 “I thought,” he commented, “this council 
 would be conducted in a manner more seemly.” 
 
 The trial broke up in confusion and was con- 
 tinued on the seventh and eighth of the month. 
 The churchmen asked a running fire of ques- 
 tions. They hurled at Hus all the acts and ut- 
 terances of his life — what he had taught, what 
 he had preached, his appeal from the pope to 
 Christ, his quotations from Wycliffe, para- 
 graphs from his books away from their con- 
 text. 
 
 Many of the charges he denied. Some he 
 admitted and wished to argue saying, “I will 
 gladly change my beliefs if any one can show 
 me they are not true.” 
 
186 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 But this the council would not permit. 
 
 “Don’t argue. Say yes or no,” they insisted. 
 “You must retract all the heretical doctrines 
 attributed to you and promise not to preach 
 them again.” 
 
 “I refuse,” said Jan Hus boldly. “I’d 
 rather die than retract with my lips opinions 
 held in my heart.” 
 
 Back to prison they led him. As he passed 
 out through the crowd one man came up and 
 grasped him by the hand. It was a daring 
 thing to do and dangerous. Deeply it touched 
 the lonely prisoner’s heart. 
 
 The weather was stifling. People fled to 
 the mountains to escape the heat. But for a 
 month Hus remained in his cramped cell. 
 
 Daily his enemies argued with him trying to 
 force him to recant, to acknowledge the errors 
 of which he was accused. His reply was al- 
 ways the same. 
 
 “God is my witness that I have never taught 
 or preached those things which have falsely 
 been ascribed to me. The chief aim of my 
 preaching, writing and acts has been that I 
 might save men from sin. Today I am willing 
 and glad to die for the truth which I have 
 taught, written and preached.” 
 
CZECHOSLOVAKIA 
 
 187 
 
 The council refused any further hearing. 
 For thirty weary days of heat and exhaustion 
 this nagging went on. On the fifth of July 
 came a last group of the clergy to induce him 
 to recant. Steadfast he continued. 
 
 “I can not offend God,” he declared, “by 
 saying I held to heresies I never held. Abjure 
 what I never taught? Be false to my con- 
 science? Better to die than tell an untruth!” 
 
 “If the council,” argued one of his visitors, 
 “should say you have but one eye, Jan Hus, 
 you are bound to agree that it is so.” 
 
 “Nay, nay! If the whole world tells me I 
 have but one eye I can not, so long as I have 
 reason, say so without doing violence to my 
 conscience!” 
 
 The next morning they brought him to the 
 cathedral. All the notables of church and 
 state were present. Mass was said. Hus 
 was considered unworthy to enter and forced 
 to wait outside. When the service was over he 
 was led to a platform in the nave — the spot 
 where today you see a white stone in the pave- 
 ment. 
 
 An official read the charges against him. 
 
 “Not guilty!” said Jan Hus. He turned 
 directly toward Sigismund. “I came here 
 
188 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 freely to this council relying on the public 
 faith of the emperor who is here present, assur- 
 ing me that I should be safe from all violence.” 
 
 Under his steady gaze the emperor’s face 
 crimsoned. 
 
 A century later at Worms men urged 
 Charles V to seize Martin Luther. 
 
 “No,” was the reply, “he has a safe-conduct. 
 I should not like to blush like Sigismund.” 
 
 “For a last time we call upon you to recant,” 
 said the clerk of the council. 
 
 Hus refused. 
 
 “Then we declare you a heretic.” 
 
 They read the condemnation with the 
 charges. Over and over the prisoner broke in 
 denying the truth of the accusations. Once 
 when they read an entirely new charge he 
 shrieked aloud and called out, “Give me the 
 name of this accuser.” 
 
 “Be silent.” 
 
 Hus knelt down on the platform and prayed. 
 
 “Lord Jesus, pardon all my enemies for thy 
 great mercy. Thou knowest that they have 
 falsely accused me. Pardon them for thy 
 mercy’s sake.” 
 
 The clergy and the people gathered around 
 received these words with shouts of laughter 
 
CZECHOSLOVAKIA 
 
 180 
 
 They clothed him in white as a priest cele- 
 brating mass. Then they stripped from him 
 the insignia of his ministry. They cut his hair 
 to hide the tonsure. They snatched the chalice 
 from his hands. They degraded him from his 
 office and expelled him from the church. 
 
 Sigismund turned to the Count Palatine, the 
 sword-bearer of the empire. 
 
 “Go, take him!” 
 
 For by the barbarous laws of that time the 
 punishment for a heretic was death by burning. 
 It was meted out not by the church, but by the 
 civil authorities. 
 
 On the prisoner’s head they put a paper cap, 
 with a writing on it that he was a heretic, and a 
 picture of three grinning devils clawing at his 
 soul. 
 
 “The crown that Jesus wore was heavier and 
 more painful than this,” was his only comment. 
 
 The long procession slowly made its way 
 from the cathedral to the city walls. There 
 were eight hundred men-at-arms guarding a 
 preacher with his hands bound. There were 
 priests and prelates of the church. There 
 were friends of the condemned from Prague. 
 There were throngs of people. There were 
 curious ones come to see a brave man die. 
 
190 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 Out at the Schnetz gate they went, and half' 
 a mile beyond the walls of Constance to the 
 meadow called the Briihl. They passed a 
 place where the writings of Hus were being 
 burned. The author smiled. 
 
 The crowd scattered into a wide circle 
 around the stake. Great piles of fagots were 
 ready near it. A chain about his neck, Jan 
 Hus was bound to the stake. Straw and 
 wood were heaped about him breast high. By 
 chance his face was toward the east. 
 
 “Turn him the other way, the heretic!” 
 cried the mob. 
 
 The executioner turned him to the west, the 
 region of sunset and night. 
 
 “We commit thy soul to the devil!” thun- 
 dered his enemies in chorus. 
 
 “And I,” Jan Hus answered, “commit it to 
 the most gracious Lord Jesus.” 
 
 The fagots were lighted. The flames shot 
 upward. Hus prayed aloud. Above the 
 crackling of the fire the people could hear his 
 voice, fearless as of old. The words were the 
 opening sentence of the apostles’ creed. 
 
 In the eyes of Hus was a rare light of joy. 
 A strong gust of wind blew the smoke into his 
 face. 
 
CZECHOSLOVAKIA 
 
 191 
 
 “A breeze in this quiet weather?” cried 
 some of the mob. “A miracle! A miracle!” 
 
 The words of the prisoner ceased. His lips 
 still moved in prayer. The flames suffocated 
 him. 
 
 “We know not his fault,” said the spectators 
 sympathetically, “but he prays like a true 
 man of God.” 
 
 The ashes from his body and from the 
 fagots, even the pieces of the stake itself were 
 thrown into the river Rhine, lest his friends 
 carry them back to Prague as precious relics. 
 His memory and example the fires of Con- 
 stance could not burn. 
 
 All Bohemia mourned when the tidings 
 came from Switzerland. It was the be- 
 ginning, not the end of discord in the land. 
 The people rose to avenge the death of their 
 hero. Promptly war broke out, the devas- 
 tating Hussite wars that lasted for fifty years. 
 
 Hus gave his life for the truth, saying it was 
 better to die well than to live badly. He was 
 the first man in history to stand for truth 
 against the world, for freedom to think, to 
 speak, to worship. 
 
 Since that long ago 1415 Bohemia has kept 
 his day. She holds dearest the story of this 
 
192 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 brave Czech. Protestant and Catholic alike 
 recognize his patriotism, his greatness of soul. 
 And on the five hundredth anniversary of his 
 death they united to honor their hero and 
 martyr, the saint of his age, with a statue in 
 Prague. 
 
TWENTY MINUTES OF SIX 
 
 THE FOURTEENTH OF JULY 
 
 Today the tricolor is flying in France. In 
 every little village, at every Hotel de Yille flut- 
 ters the red, white and blue. Every town is 
 having fireworks and dancing. You can feel 
 the holiday spirit in the air. 
 
 Especially is this true in the city of Paris. 
 Wherever you look the tricolor is fluttering 
 against the sky. All the shops are closed and 
 tightly shuttered, but over their doors wave the 
 flags of France. 
 
 Along the boulevards men and women and 
 children walk gaily. The little boats that ply 
 up and down the Seine have more passengers 
 than they can take. The railroad stations are 
 crowded. All Paris is leaving town to spend 
 the day in the country. A still larger throng 
 waits on the quay by the Louvre where the 
 motor-bus starts for the twelve-mile drive to 
 Versailles. 
 
 Here comes the mother with little Yvonne, 
 
 193 
 
194 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 the father carrying the big basket of lunch, 
 Lucien and J acques minus their black sa- 
 teen aprons, and twelve-year-old Renee. In 
 France the family always celebrates a holiday 
 together. Up they clamber to the top of the 
 bus. 
 
 “How warm the sun is!” calls out Jacques. 
 “Think how lovely it will be in the park at 
 Versailles! You’re sure, Mother, the foun- 
 tains will play today? Will they be as wonder- 
 ful as Renee says — great jets of water seventy- 
 five feet high, with the sunshine making them 
 sparkle till it hurts your eyes, and the colored 
 lights turned on at night, and the splendid 
 fireworks?” 
 
 Happy they are, starting off for this holi- 
 day. F or where in all the world can you spend 
 such a day as at Versailles? Where else can 
 you see so celebrated a park and the great 
 palace of Louis XIV, nearly half a mile long, 
 with one series of splendid rooms opening out 
 after another, with the famous hall of mirrors? 
 The spacious courts, the gardens and lawns 
 that were once upon a time a swamp, the fine 
 avenues of stately trees, the gleaming, cross- 
 shaped pond and the glorious fountains whose 
 water came from a river turned out of its 
 
FRANCE 
 
 195 
 
 course, full ninety miles away, all this beauty 
 and luxury that cost the ancestors of Lucien 
 and Renee so much in heavy taxes — today all 
 this belongs to them, to the people of France. 
 
 Yes, this is a holiday at Versailles. Over 
 the three great entrance gates that now stand 
 wide open the tricolor floats in the soft breeze. 
 In the court of honor flags are flying, over the 
 royal stables and the barracks, over the chapel 
 and theater. 
 
 It must have been just such a beautiful, 
 warm fourteenth of July in 1789. Then too 
 flags were flying at Versailles, not these ban- 
 ners of red, white and blue, but the white flag 
 of the Bourbon kings who had reigned in 
 France for two hundred years. Soldiers of the 
 royal Guards stood on duty at the palace gates. 
 In the garden servants were making ready a 
 fete for the beautiful young queen, Marie An- 
 toinette — “Madame Deficit” many of the 
 French called her, blaming her and her ex- 
 travagant ways for all their misery and dis- 
 tress. 
 
 But twelve miles away in Paris there was no 
 holiday feeling on that Tuesday. Over the 
 city hung excitement and confusion' — an ex- 
 
196 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 citement and confusion that had begun two 
 days before and with each hour grew greater 
 and wilder. Since Sunday men had not slept. 
 All Paris was in the streets. In groups peo- 
 ple marched and paraded and talked, talked, 
 talked. 
 
 Now they stopped to listen to some street 
 orator. Now they gathered in the gardens 
 of the Palais Royal, the center for news and 
 gossip. Standing on a table in front of the 
 Cafe de Foy a young man began to harangue. 
 
 The failure of the harvest and the cost of a 
 loaf of bread — the twenty-five thousand sol- 
 diers that the king has thrown around the city 
 — liberty and the rights of man — monstrous 
 taxes paid only by the poor — the privileges of 
 the nobles who enjoy themselves while the peo- 
 ple starve — all this he touched on while his lis- 
 teners came and went. 
 
 “And now,” cried the speaker, “here is this 
 last news from Versailles. Louis NVI has 
 dismissed the ministers w r ho were friendly to 
 the people. He’s going to break up the Na- 
 tional Assembly and rule himself, with the 
 help of the nobles. If there’s any resistance, 
 he’ll turn the guns of the Bastille upon the 
 city!” 
 
FRANCE 197 
 
 “The guns of the Bastille 1” echoed the 
 crowd. 
 
 “The hour has come. The hour has come 
 for France! To arms!” 
 
 “To arms!” Men took up the cry till it 
 echoed through the narrow streets. “To 
 arms!” Again and again it sounded through 
 the city. 
 
 “Where are arms to be had?” some one asked. 
 
 “At the Hotel de Ville.” 
 
 The officials there tried to shut out the mob. 
 But in through the iron gates they rushed and 
 took what muskets they could find — three hun- 
 dred and sixty in all. In an arsenal they dis- 
 covered a few more. Twenty-eight thousand 
 they found at the Hotel des Invalides. Even 
 these were not enough, for every citizen was 
 now a soldier. 
 
 Blacksmiths worked without ceasing. In a 
 day and night they turned out fifty thousand 
 pikes, for pikes were quicker to make than 
 muskets. 
 
 Through all the hubbub of the restless 
 crowds that scoured the streets, above the 
 tramping of feet, above the beating of drums 
 and the ringing of alarm bells in every steeple 
 sounded that threatening cry: “To arms! 
 
198 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 Give us arms !” And then on Tuesday morn- 
 ing came a second cry: “To the Bastille!” 
 
 Already two groups of citizens had gone to 
 that old fortress demanding arms from the 
 governor DeLaunay. Through the porthole 
 he refused. 
 
 Muskets and pikes and wooden clubs were 
 distributed. The streets seethed and boiled 
 with grim-faced men. No longer was heard 
 the cry for arms. They said only, “To the 
 Bastille!” Toward that old building in the 
 east of Paris they made their way. It was not 
 an orderly march of soldiers on parade, wheel- 
 ing with brisk step, marking time. Men 
 crowded along shouting and yelling. They 
 were a living tide that during many years had 
 ebbed, had slowly turned, and now with a new 
 force swept toward the eight grim towers of 
 the Bastille. 
 
 Here was an outlet for their fury. How 
 they hated the sight of the fortress! How 
 they hated its very name! For more than four 
 hundred years it had stood there grim and for- 
 bidding, threatening the city. Long, long be- 
 fore a king of France had built it as part of 
 the defenses of Paris. But for a century and 
 more it had been prison rather than fortress — 
 
FRANCE 
 
 199 
 
 a royal prison where the king or his minister 
 or one of his favorites could send a man — inno- 
 cent or guilty no one stopped to ask — send him 
 there without trial and keep him there for years 
 and years till he was quite forgotten. The 
 Bastille was a symbol of the absolute power of 
 the sovereign. To the people it stood for self- 
 ishness and injustice. It stood for oppression 
 and wrongs unredressed for centuries. 
 
 And now on the fourteenth of July, 1789, 
 the mob swelling ever wilder, shouting ever 
 louder massed in front of the fortress. What 
 could pikes and muskets do against walls nine 
 feet thick? against cannon pointing down from 
 the battlements? 
 
 What would DeLaunay do, that loyal old 
 soldier whose orders were to hold his post? 
 There were fifteen pieces of artillery on the 
 tower platforms. His force numbered eighty- 
 two Frenchmen and thirty-six redcoated 
 Swiss. He had no store of food or ammuni- 
 tion. Should he surrender? The Bastille 
 had resisted many an attack in the past. 
 Should he fire on the mob ? They were badly 
 armed and leaderless. 
 
 It was one o’clock. 
 
 One hundred and eighteen against those 
 
200 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 thousands boiling and whirling in a mad flood. 
 With smoldering eyes and clenched hands, 
 with a fury in their brains they besieged the 
 old fortress. Every suggestion made by some 
 fellow in the crowd they caught up eagerly. 
 
 “Send for the firemen to wet the touchholes 
 of their cannon!” 
 
 This they tried. But the pumps could not 
 reach so high. They made only clouds of 
 spray. 
 
 “Burn some straw and smoke them out!” 
 
 Three cartloads of straw were brought from 
 somewhere, hauled into place, and the mass set 
 on fire. White, white smoke went up almost 
 choking the besiegers. 
 
 “Drag up the cannon from the parade- 
 ground.” 
 
 “What — the little silver-mounted cannon 
 sent to Louis XIV by the king of Siam? Try 
 them. But what can they do against those 
 massive bulwarks?” 
 
 All this time the firing of muskets never 
 stopped. From behind battlements, from 
 portholes the besieged fired back. The eighty- 
 three wounded were carried into nearby houses. 
 
 “Do not yield,” they cried, “till the strong- 
 hold falls!” 
 
FRANCE 
 
 201 
 
 Climbing up on bayonets stuck into joints 
 in the wall, two men struck with their axes at 
 the heavy chains of the outer drawbridge. 
 The iron links yielded, broke. The huge draw- 
 bridge thundered down. 
 
 Far below the prisoners in the Bastille heard 
 a muffled din. 
 
 “What’s happening out there?” they asked. 
 
 Vaguely the guards made answer. 
 
 DeLaunay was waiting for reinforcements. 
 A troop of hussars crept cautiously along the 
 river, coming up as close as the bridge. 
 
 “Alight and give up your arms!” called out 
 one of the mob. 
 
 While the people cheered the soldiers of the 
 king were disarmed and escorted back. 
 
 For four hours the firing kept up. Shots 
 blazed and rattled, but fell harmless against 
 the solid stone walls. DeLaunay would not 
 surrender save at the king’s order. He de- 
 cided to fire the powder magazine and blow up 
 the Bastille. But a soldier seized his arm and 
 dashed to the ground the lighted torch. 
 
 By the inner drawbridge a porthole was 
 opened. The Swiss guards hung out a white 
 flag made of napkins. They beat a drum to 
 ask a parley, but no one could hear. 
 
202 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 “Safety for all if we surrender,” they wrote 
 on a paper and passed it out on the end of a 
 bayonet. 
 
 “Yes — on the word of an officer,” said the 
 half-pay captain who led one portion of the 
 mob. 
 
 The inner drawbridge was lowered. In 
 rushed the besiegers. The Bastille was theirs ! 
 
 It was twenty minutes of six. 
 
 Against the wall the hundred and eighteen 
 piled their arms. Into the fortress plunged 
 the mob. Through court and corridor they 
 rushed, over bridges, down steep stairs, into 
 dungeons and narrow cells. 
 
 “Take the governor and the other officers 
 to the Hotel de Ville,” said the half-pay cap- 
 tain. 
 
 But the mob forgot the promise of safety, 
 hustled them along and killed them in the 
 street. Their heads were placed on pikes and 
 carried along in triumph. Men and women 
 looked on shouting, “Liberty forever!” 
 
 It was twenty minutes of six, the hour of the 
 birth of liberty in France. The late after- 
 noon sun shone on the garden fete at Ver- 
 sailles where officers and ladies of the 
 court were dancing and feasting. It shone 
 
FRANCE 203 
 
 on the barracks full of soldiers drinking and 
 singing. 
 
 Its slant rays lighted the babel and bedlam 
 swarming about the old fortress. They shone 
 on a procession that wound through the streets 
 of Paris. Shoulder high the victorious mob 
 carried the seven prisoners found in the Bas- 
 tille. The light touched the scanty white hair 
 of one of these poor men who for thirty years 
 had lived in a cell and could not tell whence he 
 came nor why he was a prisoner. 
 
 The sun shone too on rusty iron keys held 
 up for the people to see. They were the sym- 
 bol of the end of tyranny in France. It shone 
 on a cage of iron, on heavy padlock chains torn 
 from heavy doors, on monstrous blocks of stone 
 and trap dungeons — things that for long years 
 had not seen the light of day. 
 
 As twilight came the destruction of the Bas- 
 tille went on rapidly. Great stones were 
 wrenched from their foundations. Bit by bit 
 the eight massive towers went down. The 
 stern battlements that made a dark shadow 
 over the city fell as pike and musket ham- 
 mered at them. 
 
 “The building itself must be destroyed!” 
 shouted the people. “Never again a king with 
 
204 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 such absolute power! Never again such des- 
 potism in fair France!” 
 
 A small affair to destroy a fortress? 
 
 The fall of the Bastille was like a writing on 
 the wall. It marked the end of the old mon- 
 archy. It marked the beginning of the new 
 France. 
 
 “An evil omen,” said king and queen and 
 nobles. 
 
 “A good omen,” said the people of France. 
 
 Through the great park at Versailles walk 
 Renee and Lucien and Jacques. From the 
 terrace they watch the fountains play. Awe- 
 struck they gaze about them in the hall of mir- 
 rors. They look at the splendid paintings that 
 tell, in room after room, the history of France. 
 They stroll over to the little farm where Marie 
 Antoinette played with her blue-ribboned 
 sheep and made butter in the dairy-house while 
 the king carried sacks of wheat to the mill. 
 Here the court amused itself while the people 
 were starving. 
 
 Under the trees the children listen to the 
 story of that fourteenth of July, a tale 
 that is old to every French boy and girl, but 
 one they never tire of hearing. 
 
FRANCE 205 
 
 “Why did they call it the Bastille?” asks 
 Renee. “What does it mean?” 
 
 “It means ‘building’ ” replies her father. 
 “The people called it ‘the building’ as if there 
 were no other. But it was not with love they 
 christened the Bastille.” 
 
 “When we go home,” says Jacques, “will 
 you take us over to the Place de la Bastille? 
 I’d like to see it today.” 
 
 So in the evening this French family walks 
 into the great square where once stood the 
 grim, old fortress. 
 
 “Is the great, high column in the center a 
 monument for the fourteenth of July?” the 
 children ask, craning their necks to see the fig- 
 ure of Liberty on the top. 
 
 “Yes, but years later than the fall of the Bas- 
 tille. It’s in honor of the heroes of the revo- 
 lution of 1830. You see, there’s nothing left 
 of the old building — no ruins, no great blocks 
 of stone, no iron cage. But look here!” 
 
 In the pavement near the Rue St. Antoine 
 the children find a line of white stones. Trac- r 
 ing it back yard by yard they make out the site 
 of the Bastille. Here it ran close to the river. 
 There it curved out for one of the frowning 
 towers. They pictured the Place as it looked 
 
206 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 on the fourteenth of July with loyal old De- 
 Launay refusing to surrender and the roaring 
 sea of men whirling and seething, shouting and 
 firing. 
 
 “For years and years,” says their father, 
 “the people of France had been oppressed and 
 voiceless. In 1789 they found their voice. 
 And it was the voice of the people that took 
 the Bastille as once long before, in a land far 
 away the walls of Jericho fell at a sound.” 
 
THE FATHER OF FIVE 
 COUNTRIES 
 
 THE TWENTY-FOURTH OF JULY 
 
 “Only give us a leader! We too have pa- 
 triots who dare to dream of liberty!” 
 
 “It’s true, all you’ve said of this new interest 
 in liberty that’s sweeping over the world. The 
 United States began it in ’75. France be- 
 headed her king. Greece is trying to free 
 herself from Turkey. It’s reached even as far 
 as here in Venezuela. Give us a leader! And 
 Spain — ” 
 
 “Yes,” interrupted a third, “all of this 
 great continent, except Brazil, belongs to 
 Spain. And how does she treat us? She’ll 
 learn nothing from England’s bitter lesson in 
 North America. Only look at the amount of 
 taxes we pay — taxes we have no share in vot- 
 ing.” 
 
 “ ‘Taxation without representation,’ ” 
 quoted one of his listeners, “that’s tyranny!” 
 
 “And look at all the restrictions Spain 
 207 
 
208 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 hedges about us — we can’t grow almond trees 
 or grapes, we can’t make oil or wine, we can’t 
 weave cotton cloth, we can’t trade with any- 
 body, anywhere — save with certain Spanish 
 cities — we can’t hold an office. For what do 
 we exist? Tell me that — for what do we 
 exist?” 
 
 “To glorify the mother country,” answered 
 several voices. 
 
 “Yes, to glorify Spain,” he repeated bit- 
 terly. “But give us a leader. Venezuela is 
 seeking her George Washington. Who is her 
 man-of-the-hour ?” 
 
 The group of patriots was silent. 
 
 They had no leader. 
 
 “What would you think,” one man spoke up 
 timidly, “of interesting Bolivar?” 
 
 “What — young Simon Bolivar?” 
 
 “Who’s he?” 
 
 “Where does he live?” 
 
 “I knew his father — years ago — a nobleman 
 at our capital. The boy’s an orphan and heir 
 to vast estates near Caracas. But — lead a 
 movement for our country’s liberty? He’s 
 not interested in liberty. He used to like 
 athletics and riding. Now he cares only for 
 pleasure and travel. Abroad still, I believe.” 
 
SOUTH AMERICA 
 
 209 
 
 “Yes, in Madrid, my agent there writes me. 
 He’s a great favorite at court. Plays tennis 
 with the crown prince — and wins! There’s 
 something about it in the last letter. Wait, 
 here it is.” 
 
 He opened the pages and read aloud : 
 
 “Perhaps you’ll be interested, Senor, in a bit of 
 gossip about one of your fellow-citizens — the rich, 
 young Bolivar who plays tennis here with the crown 
 prince. Report has it that he said, ‘Look out, your 
 Highness, I give you fair warning. I’ve won from 
 you at tennis. Some time I shall take your bright- 
 est jewel.’ Is anything afoot in Venezuela?” 
 
 “Nothing’s afoot till we find a leader.” 
 
 Their talk drifted from Bolivar to the latest 
 news from Madrid and Europe. No one in 
 that group guessed that Venezuela’s man-of- 
 the-hour would prove to be the rich young 
 noble, that his threat to the prince would come 
 true and more, that he would take not one 
 jewel only, but two, three, four, five. No one 
 knew that a visit to the gay city of Paris had 
 chanced to show him the last striking scenes of 
 the Revolution. 
 
 Already he was dreaming of liberty for 
 Venezuela, for the other countries of the great 
 
210 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 southern continent. Standing on one of the 
 seven hills of Rome he had vowed to devote 
 himself to that cause. 
 
 On his way home he traveled through the 
 United States, anxious to see for himself how a 
 government of the people was succeeding. 
 This was the last step in fixing his purpose. 
 ITe would free South America from the 
 tyrant Spain and establish her independence, 
 
 By this decision Bolivar had everything to 
 lose and nothing to gain. He might have been 
 the richest, the most powerful of his class. 
 He might have lived in luxury all his years. 
 He might have had the favor of the court and 
 of the king. All this he gave up to be true to 
 the spirit of liberty in his soul. 
 
 In Venezuela he joined this group of pa- 
 triots who were working toward independence. 
 He was all for taking action at once. What 
 matter how things went in Spain, in Europe? 
 Some of his friends urged delay. 
 
 “You say great projects should be patiently 
 weighed. Yes — but aren’t three hundred 
 years of waiting enough?” And to those who 
 argued that the mother country’s plans must 
 be considered he answered, “What shall we 
 care if Spain chooses to keep us as her slave 
 
SOUTH AMERICA 
 
 211 
 
 or sell us to Napoleon, since we have decided 
 to be free? Let us fix without fear the 
 foundations of our liberty.” 
 
 In July of 1811 Venezuela proclaimed her 
 independence from Spain. The following 
 year war began in earnest. But the first 
 attempts of the patriot group failed. Their 
 republic was short lived. Bolivar escaped to 
 the west and offered his services to the presi- 
 dent of New Granada (the country that is now 
 Colombia) where the revolutionists were for 
 the time in control. With only two hundred 
 men against an enemy ten times as strong he 
 fought twelve battles in fifteen days and 
 gained a large province for the patriot party. 
 
 He asked permission to invade his native 
 state and argued that only through her inde- 
 pendence could the freedom of South ilmerica 
 be won. Indeed for their own safety the New 
 Granadians must reconquer Venezuela or the 
 Spanish would use it as a base of supplies 
 against them. The permission was given and 
 with four hundred followers Bolivar crossed 
 the frontier. 
 
 A rash movement? He did not stop to 
 count the odds against him. He called on all 
 good citizens to aid. As he moved eastward 
 
212 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 the people rose in arms. Soon he had a thou- 
 sand soldiers. After no less than fifty com- 
 bats he entered Caracas in triumph. 
 
 His fellow-citizens gave him a great ovation. 
 Girls strewed roses before him. The crowds 
 hailed him as their deliverer, “el libertador.” 
 They voted that he should have all the powers 
 of a dictator in civil and military affairs. 
 But the Venezuelans were not ready for self- 
 government after three centuries of Spanish 
 rule. When Bolivar appointed his ministers 
 he found that at every turn he must direct them 
 all. 
 
 The Spaniards were not conquered. They 
 sent a new army and defeated the republican 
 forces. Bolivar fled to Jamaica. Not that 
 he had given up hope of freeing his country. 
 Not that he had abandoned his dream of 
 liberty. He never despaired. He never lost 
 heart. Later his enemies described him as a 
 man more terrible in defeat than when he 
 conquered. As he was leaving Venezuela he 
 said, “There is no power in the world capable 
 of arresting me in the work in which I am 
 engaged. God reserves victory to constancy.” 
 
 In Jamaica and on the island of Haiti he 
 gathered the fugitive patriots together. They 
 
SOUTH AMERICA 
 
 213 
 
 needed help of every kind — arms and ships 
 and money. The negro president of Haiti 
 welcomed Bolivar and gave him warm support 
 in his struggle with Spain, but with one con- 
 dition — that when success came he would free 
 the slaves in Venezuela. He promised and 
 loyally kept his word, more than forty years 
 before Lincoln’s proclamation gave freedom 
 to the slaves in the northern hemisphere. 
 
 Another friend for the cause was found in 
 Haiti, a Dutch ship-builder who fitted out 
 seven schooners and gave also three thousand 
 muskets. On the last day of 1816 Bolivar 
 sailed back to Venezuela. He had three hun- 
 dred men, the same number that marched with 
 Leonidas, and his equalled that Spartan force 
 in courage and patriotism. He issued a 
 proclamation summoning representatives of 
 the Venezuelan people to a general congress. 
 Then he burned his seven ships. Now the 
 adventure must end in success or death ! 
 
 Spain had sent another army with orders to 
 subdue the rebellious colonies at any cost. 
 For a year Bolivar carried on confused opera- 
 tions against it. Then tired of aimless march- 
 ings and countermarchings he thought out a 
 plan — a daring plan that needed desperate 
 
214 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 courage to carry through. In the history of 
 the world there are only one or two exploits to 
 compare with this. 
 
 There was little to be accomplished just 
 then in Venezuela. In New Granada a 
 republican army kept up the fight for liberty. 
 Why not cross the mountains, unite all the 
 patriot forces and push their enemy toward 
 the northern hills and the sea? Success 
 would come through surprise and the enthu- 
 siastic support of the people living in the 
 territory to be invaded. 
 
 It was the wrong season of the year for 
 such a crossing? Odds against him, odds of 
 nature, odds in favor of the Spanish Bolivar 
 never counted. He bent every energy to 
 carry out his plan and promptly, before his 
 foes should learn of it. 
 
 The first few days the march was across 
 broad, open plains up to the base of the moun- 
 tains. In the dry season a hard track led 
 through waving grasses, past empty river beds, 
 by knolls crowned with tall trees. Now the 
 rainy season had set in. The flat country was 
 flooded. Every little stream was a river. 
 The knolls were islands. The hard track was 
 liquid mud. 
 
SOUTH AMERICA 
 
 215 
 
 The little patriot army waded knee deep, 
 waist deep. Scarcely stopping for an hour 
 the rain beat down upon them. Each day they 
 crossed a dozen streams, fording when they 
 could, swimming, or ferrying themselves over 
 in boats made of hides. 
 
 Once across the wide plains matters became 
 not better, but worse. Great cascades tumbled 
 down from the mountain heights. The road 
 led along the edge of precipices. On one side 
 it was marked by huge trees whose tops were 
 lost in the mist. The rain kept on day after 
 day. Up and up went the march. 
 
 Often the path was blocked by landslides. 
 The men crossed raging torrents on tree trunks 
 that shook with every step. Sometimes they 
 made hanging bridges of hide-ropes lashed to 
 either bank and went across in “cradles” each 
 holding two soldiers. In his faded blue 
 uniform with the red facings Bolivar passed 
 and repassed these streams on horseback, 
 always with a sick man behind his saddle. 
 
 Up and still up they went. The clouds 
 were below them. There was nothing to see 
 but huge rocks and masses of snow. The 
 troops were used to the warm, moist air of the 
 plains. Now they met cold fogs and a pierc- 
 
216 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 mg wind that the stoutest clothing could not 
 shut out. 
 
 A hundred soldiers of the enemy could have 
 trapped them in those ravines. But Bolivar 
 had not chosen the ordinary pass for crossing 
 the Andes. Lest the Spanish might be expect- 
 ing him he had turned to a disused track that 
 led over a desolate height. 
 
 Complaints broke out. The men began to 
 murmur. Would their hardihood fail now? 
 A council of war was summoned. Frankly 
 Bolivar talked with his officers. 
 
 “I will hide nothing from you. In all likeli- 
 hood there are perils ahead of us worse than 
 any we’ve encountered. Shall we go on? Or 
 shall we abandon our attempt?” 
 
 “Forward!” came the answer. 
 
 Weary, exhausted they were still ready to 
 follow him. At last the handful of wretched, 
 famished men were across the pass. Before 
 them lay broad valleys, green and fertile. 
 They saw sunshine once more. The people 
 of a village poured out to welcome them. 
 They brought food and tobacco. The soldiers 
 threw themselves down to rest in the sunshine 
 and fell to polishing their rusty guns. 
 
 Bolivar had done the impossible! 
 
SOUTH AMERICA 
 
 217 
 
 Where the enemy least expected him he sud- 
 denly appeared. The Spanish general moved 
 toward Bogota to avoid being cut off from the 
 capital. The battle came at the bridge near 
 Boyaca. Bolivar placed a large part of his 
 force in ambush. When attacked the few 
 visible troops gave way in a pretended panic. 
 The enemy pursued. From both sides the con- 
 cealed patriots rushed forth. The cavalry 
 swept down from the rear. In two hours the 
 day was won. 
 
 The Spanish general flung away his sword 
 to avoid having to surrender it. He was taken 
 prisoner on the battlefield with almost all of 
 his officers and more than sixteen hundred 
 men. The road to Bogota was open. Boli- 
 var entered that capital amid the wildest re- 
 joicings. New Granada was free! 
 
 Success in the west meant success in Vene- 
 zuela. With united forces the patriot armies 
 marched eastward. At Carabobo they de- 
 feated the Spanish by a clever flank movement 
 over a wooded hill and through a ravine so 
 choked with briars that the soldiers had to pass 
 in single file. With the exception of one for- 
 tress the enemy had been driven from every 
 post. Venezuela was free! 
 
218 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 For the second time Simon Bolivar entered 
 Caracas in triumph. Nor was this a tempo- 
 rary success like the other. A government 
 was established uniting New Granada and 
 Venezuela as the republic of Colombia. There 
 was only one man to be president, Bolivar 
 whom the people acclaimed as their liberator, 
 the father of his country. 
 
 By 1823 he w T as free to help Ecuador and 
 Peru, to complete the work of “saving a world 
 from slavery.” More than one great battle 
 was fought before Spain would acknowledge 
 herself defeated — the famous one of forty-five 
 minutes at Junin where not a shot was fired, 
 but the soldiers on both sides used only lance 
 and saber ; and the equally famous one at Aya- 
 cucho won by Sucre, Bolivar’s second-in-com- 
 mand. 
 
 After two years of hard struggle Peru was 
 free. She voted her deliverer a million dollars 
 which he used to buy the freedom of one thou- 
 sand slaves. 
 
 Next he must help the district called Upper 
 Peru which later changed its name to Bolivia 
 in his honor. He was declared “protector” 
 of this new nation and the leaders asked 
 
SOUTH AMERICA 
 
 219 
 
 him to draw up a constitution. In reply Boli- 
 var urged them to call a congress. 
 
 “A victorious soldier,” said he, “does not ac- 
 quire the right to govern.” 
 
 For these new countries Bolivar dreamed 
 great dreams, far-seeing visions of progress 
 which even a century has not been long enough 
 to see fulfilled. He pointed out that their 
 greatest need was popular education. He 
 proposed a fourth division of the government, 
 a court to supervise the children’s schooling 
 and the maintenance of patriotism. Its do- 
 main would be the public spirit, the hearts of 
 citizens. 
 
 He dreamed too of a canal across the isth- 
 mus of Panama. It would shorten the world’s 
 distances and bring to that spot the treasures 
 of the seven seas. It would be the site of a 
 great city which should be the center of the 
 universe, facing Asia on one side, Europe and 
 Africa on the other. It would be the seat of 
 a supreme court guarding the interests of the 
 two Americas. 
 
 In still another dream Colombia and Ecua- 
 dor, Peru and Bolivia were to be united into a 
 great federation of republics like the United 
 
220 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 States. It would reach from the Caribbean 
 Sea to the valley of the Amazon, from Atlantic 
 to Pacific. Rut dissensions and jealousies 
 were rife among the people. Instead of this 
 federation the union of Colombia and Vene- 
 zuela crumbled during Bolivar’s lifetime. 
 
 “I have ploughed on the sand,” he said bit- 
 terly, heart-broken at the apparent failure of 
 his work. 
 
 Nine-tenths of his great fortune Bolivar 
 spent in the service of his country. At one 
 time he controlled the revenues of three na- 
 tions, but he never touched a penny of public 
 moneys. He conquered wealthy provinces, 
 but refused to be more than their deliverer. 
 Half his salary as president of Colombia he 
 used for the widows and orphans of his 
 soldiers. 
 
 He was seized with a fatal fever. Anxious 
 only for the state of the country he died say- 
 ing, “Union! Union!” The last of his inherit- 
 ance had been used. Friends had to meet the 
 expenses of his funeral. 
 
 More than once Caracas asked to erect a 
 monument in his honor. 
 
 “No,” was his reply, “never raise monu- 
 ments to a man in his lifetime. He may 
 
SOUTH AMERICA 
 
 221 
 
 change. He may betray. You’ll never have 
 to charge me with this. But wait, wait I say 
 again. After my death you can judge with- 
 out prejudice and accord what honors you 
 think suitable.” 
 
 With pomp and ceremony his remains were 
 moved to his native city and a beautiful statue 
 was erected. Today coins and squares, streets 
 and towns and provinces in the five countries 
 he helped to free, are called after him. His 
 name and fame are everywhere throughout 
 South America. And on this twenty-fourth 
 of July Venezuela and Peru, Bolivia and Col- 
 ombia and Ecuador, a territory two-thirds as 
 large as Europe, keep his birthday. 
 
THE VIGIL ON THE CARTEL SHIP 
 
 THE THIRTEENTH OF SEPTEMBER 
 
 “What’s this you say, Mr. West? Dr. 
 Beanes taken off in the middle of the night 
 by the British? And they won’t let you see 
 him?” 
 
 “That’s right. We thought, his friends 
 and patients in Marlborough, that you were 
 just the man to help us. You’re a lawyer, 
 Mr. Key, and the old doctor’s friend. So I 
 came out to Georgetown to tell you of his 
 arrest and the rough treatment they gave him. 
 I was certain you’d go.” 
 
 “Go — go where? What can I do?” 
 
 “First, get a letter from the Secretary of 
 State to Colonel Skinner, our agent for the 
 parole of prisoners. Then go out to the Brit- 
 ish admiral under a flag of truce and intercede 
 with him before the fleet sails. How could 
 they break in at the doctor’s house,” West con- 
 tinued with growing indignation, “and drag 
 
 him out of bed with hardly time to dress, and 
 
 222 
 
STAR-SPANGLED BANNER 223 
 
 march him off to their camp astride a bare- 
 back mule? Why, Dr. Beanes has taken care 
 of all our family for years. You remember 
 what he did for the wounded after the battle 
 of Long Island, and at the Brandywine in that 
 first hospital Congress established? Surely 
 you will go?” 
 
 “Yes,” said Francis Scott Key, “I’ll go. 
 I’ll do my best, though I warn you it’s no easy 
 task, nor pleasant either. But on what 
 grounds did they take Dr. Beanes prisoner?” 
 
 “Well, Marlborough people say the old doc- 
 tor and two friends were in the garden when a 
 group of British soldiers, straggling maraud- 
 ers from the main army, broke in. I suppose 
 they were elated over their victory of the day 
 before. At any rate they were insolent and 
 disorderly. On the doctor’s complaint they 
 were arrested and lodged in the Marlborough 
 jail. One brawny fellow made his escape in 
 the night and told Admiral Cockburn some ex- 
 aggerated tale about how the doctor tried to 
 poison them. So a squad of marines was sent 
 to arrest him in revenge. 
 
 “But at their headquarters the British tell 
 quite another story. They told us Dr. Beanes 
 had been their host on their way down to 
 
224 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 Washington and now had broken his parole. 
 Just think — a man of honor like the old doc- 
 tor breaking his word !” 
 
 With Francis Scott Key to decide on a diffi- 
 cult task was to set about it at once. He went 
 to the State Department for the necessary let- 
 ter. The next morning, the fourth of Sep- 
 tember, 1814 he left his home in Georgetown 
 for Baltimore. 
 
 There he sought the help of Colonel John 
 Skinner. No one knew exactly where the 
 British fleet was — somewffiere in Chesapeake 
 Bay. Thej" set sail in the Minden, the cartel 
 ship, in search of Admiral Cockburn. 
 
 Traveling was far slower then than now". 
 Under the best of conditions it took two days 
 to sail down from Baltimore. It w r as probably 
 the seventh of the month when the Miiiden 
 neared the flagship of the enemy’s fleet and the 
 tw"o Americans went aboard w r ith a flag of 
 truce. 
 
 Colonel Skinner was of course well known 
 to the British officers. Politely they received 
 their callers. But when Mr. Key told his er- 
 rand the British admiral was in no mood to 
 grant the request. 
 
 “No,” he answ r ered, “Dr. Beanes has in- 
 
STAR-SPANGLED BANNER 225 
 
 flicted atrocious injuries on His Majesty’s 
 troops. He deserves the most severe punish- 
 ment. He shall be hung to the yard arm of 
 the flagship!” 
 
 So coldly was the application received Key 
 feared his mission would fail. But Mr. West 
 had chosen wisely. Francis Scott Key was an 
 eloquent speaker. He had a gracious man- 
 ner, a pleasing personality. He was, in short, 
 a southern gentleman, courteous and tactful. 
 
 Did he dwell on the respect which the whole 
 community felt for Dr. Beanes? Did he argue 
 that a man of such character and standing 
 could not be guilty of these charges? Or did 
 he rely on the letters Colonel Skinner brought 
 to some British officers from their comrades 
 wounded in the fighting a few days before — 
 letters which told the warm appreciation they 
 all felt for the careful treatment and the kind- 
 nesses the good doctor had showed them? 
 
 Whichever it was, Mr. Key was victorious. 
 The admiral promised to release Dr. Beanes. 
 
 “But,” he added, “you can not go ashore 
 just now. We’re about to make an expedition. 
 We can’t run the risk of your giving the enemy 
 any information of the preparations you’ve 
 seen or heard aboard our fleet. Of course 
 
226 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 we’ll try to make you as comfortable as pos- 
 sible. I must apologize for not being able to 
 accommodate you here, but we’re already 
 crowded. I’ll transfer you to the ship my son 
 commands.” 
 
 Colonel Skinner, Mr. Key and the old doc- 
 tor, now a free man once more, sailed with the 
 British fleet and on the morning of the tenth 
 reached the mouth of the Patapsco River. 
 Then under a guard of marines they were 
 taken off to their own vessel, the Minden. By 
 the admiral’s orders it was anchored where 
 they could watch the attack. They would be 
 eyewitnesses of the great British victory, of 
 the defeat of their countrymen. 
 
 Every movement of the enemy they ob- 
 served and with anxious hearts debated the 
 outcome. They knew their militia had been 
 routed at Bladensburg. They knew about the 
 burning of Washington. They knew what de- 
 fenses Baltimore had — earthworks hastily 
 thrown up east of the city, some vessels sunk 
 in the channel, and several small batteries 
 added to Fort McHenry, standing sentinel at 
 the mouth of the river. They knew what de- 
 fenders the city had — raw militia to meet 
 trained and hardened veterans. 
 
STAR-SPANGLED BANNER 227 
 
 They knew too what a grudge the British 
 had against Baltimore. “A nest of pirates,” 
 they called it and marked it out for special 
 vengeance because it was the home of swift 
 privateers that preyed on their commerce. 
 Key knew that an English general had 
 boasted, “ I don’t care if it rains militia ! I’ll 
 take Baltimore and make it my winter head- 
 quarters.” 
 
 Prisoners on an American vessel, the three 
 watched for three days the landing of the Brit- 
 ish army of nine thousand. They saw the lines 
 drawn up in hostile array at North Point, a 
 dozen miles from Baltimore. From the road 
 leading to the city they heard the booming of 
 cannon, the roar of rapid-firing muskets. It 
 was a calm September morning. The breeze 
 brought the sound clearly. How was the bat- 
 tle going? 
 
 The Americans, they were to learn after- 
 ward, held the enemy in check. On the death 
 of the British general the officer left in com- 
 mand hesitated to attack again. Why not 
 wait till the fleet passing Fort McHenry could 
 bombard the city and cooperate with the army ? 
 
 But a hitch occurred in this plan. 
 
 Early on the morning of the thirteenth the 
 
228 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 three watchers on the Minden saw sixteen ves- 
 sels sail up and form in a great half -circle op- 
 posite Fort McHenry. Francis Scott Key 
 and the doctor plied Colonel Skinner with 
 questions, but he could tell them little. The 
 fort was in command of Colonel George Ar- 
 mistead. He had perhaps twelve hundred 
 men, counting three companies of volunteers 
 from Baltimore. 
 
 “But why doesn’t he fire back?” asked Key 
 anxiously. “Hasn’t he some finely placed 
 batteries and heavy guns?” 
 
 “Yes. But the British are out of reach. 
 See how far they stay, out of harm’s way. 
 They’re a good two miles from the fort. But 
 their bombs are reaching her. Here, take the 
 glasses. Some pass over, but some are burst- 
 ing right above the fort.” 
 
 “Oh! Four or five all at once! It makes 
 a double explosion. They’re pumping their 
 heavy bombs on our poor little fort, never 
 stopping. But tell me, why do our men fire 
 back now and again?” 
 
 “That’s to let them know the garrison has 
 not surrendered.” 
 
 About three o’clock in the afternoon some 
 of the British vessels moved in closer to the 
 
STAR-SPANGLED BANNER 229 
 
 fort. Key saw them come within range of 
 Armistead’s guns. Bombs and shells hailed 
 down upon them. His heart leaped as he 
 watched the firing of his countrymen. How 
 deliberately they were aiming! Every shot 
 told. It must be getting hot for the enemy. 
 In half an hour they slipped their cables and 
 sailed back out of distance. 
 
 Later Key learned the cause of this. One 
 of the American guns was struck and blown 
 off its carriage. The flurry of caring for the 
 wounded and remounting the gun made the 
 British think there was great confusion in the 
 fort. So they sailed in closer, but soon re- 
 turned to a respectful distance. 
 
 After this little incident the fight went on 
 as before. Keeping outside the range of the 
 fort’s guns the British threw bomb after 
 bomb. The horrible clatter never ceased. 
 Explosion followed explosion. 
 
 The hours went slowly by. The flag on the 
 fort, Key saw with the glasses, drooped round 
 its staff. But at twilight there came a cool, 
 gentle breeze. The air stirred and caught its 
 folds. In a last salute to the sun the stars 
 and stripes unfurled over the ramparts of Fort 
 McHenry. 
 
230 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 Just then a shell pierced the flag. One of 
 the stars was torn away. Key’s eyes filled 
 with tears as he saw it. 
 
 Night fell hiding the fifteen stripes 
 of red and white, hiding the fifteen white 
 stars on the field of blue. Bravely, defiantly 
 the flag was flying in the face of English can- 
 non. Would it be still flying when morning 
 came? 
 
 The enemy’s movements could no longer be 
 seen. Worn out by the excitement of the 
 day, the old doctor went below to rest. 
 Colonel Skinner joined him. But Francis 
 Scott Key had no thought of sleep. Anxious, 
 wakeful he paced the deck of the cartel ship 
 all night long. Wondering, praying he 
 listened, listened to the firing which never 
 stopped, to the occasional shot that answered 
 from the little fort. 
 
 About one o’clock the noise increased. 
 Key heard the British give three cheers. The 
 American guns fired quickly over and over 
 again. The enemy sent up rockets to guide 
 the twelve hundred marines who were landing 
 with scaling ladders to storm the fort in the 
 rear. They made quick flashes of light here 
 and there on the river, on the shore, and then 
 
STAR-SPANGLED BANNER 281 
 
 went out leaving the darkness blacker than 
 before. 
 
 Key watched this bombardment with bated 
 breath, with throbbing heart. There was 
 shower after shower of shot from all the guns 
 of the fort, from the batteries at the quarantine 
 station, from the barges in the river. The 
 British fleet responded with entire broadsides. 
 For two hours the sky was filled with flame 
 and thunder. 
 
 The bursting of the bombs and the red glare 
 of the rockets made the heavens aglow with a 
 seething sea of fire. The water of the harbor 
 was lashed into angry waves. The Minden 
 tossed about as though in a tempest. 
 
 In the midst of the terrific explosions Key 
 heard not cheering, but the cries of wounded 
 and dying men. Did they come from the fort ? 
 from the transports ? What did they mean ? 
 
 Then came a sudden silence. 
 
 Not a shot was fired. An awful, deathlike 
 stillness reigned. The suspense was unbear- 
 able. Had Armistead and his men made a 
 last gallant effort before they surrendered? 
 Had the British abandoned the attack? 
 
 As long as the guns of the fort kept up 
 their firing Key knew its defenders were un- 
 
232 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 dismayed. But this silence was ominous. 
 Was it victory? He was afraid to hope. 
 Was it defeat? The lonely man paced up 
 and down. 
 
 The night sky gave no answer to his ques- 
 tions: Had Armistead surrendered? Were 
 
 the British even then marching that short two 
 miles into the city ? When day came at last 
 would they look out from the Minden on a 
 scene of havoc and plunder and fire? Would 
 the British flag or the stars and stripes be wav- 
 ing over Fort McHenry? 
 
 Anxiously Key looked at his watch. It 
 must be nearly morning. Colonel Skinner 
 joined him. In the sky came the first gray 
 streaks of dawn. Over the fort hung a heavy 
 fog of smoke and mist. It enveloped the 
 harbor and lay close to the surface of the 
 water. 
 
 At last in the east showed a bright line of 
 gold and crimson. Another and another. In 
 its full glory the sun rose. The mist over the 
 river lifted. With the glasses turned on the 
 little fort they could see a flag flying. 
 
 “Oh!” cried Key, “oh! It’s the star-span- 
 gled banner!” 
 
STAR-SPANGLED BANNER 233 
 
 His words were exulting, like a prayer 
 of praise and thanksgiving. His heart was 
 bursting. 
 
 The stars and stripes caught the first gleam 
 of the morning light. In the river red and 
 white and blue were reflected as in a mirror. 
 
 The darkness and gloom of night were 
 gone. The long vigil of the American on the 
 cartel ship was ended. That flag waving in 
 triumph after a steady bombardment of 
 twenty-four hours told the whole story. 
 
 Baffled the enemy’s fleet was drawing off. 
 Soon after sunrise word came from the British 
 to Colonel Skinner that the attack had failed. 
 When their vessels had dropped down the 
 river the Americans were at liberty to go 
 ashore. 
 
 On the back of a letter Francis Scott Key 
 wrote down his thoughts, the first lines of a 
 poem. In the little boat that took the three up 
 to Baltimore he finished the stanzas that filled 
 his mind and heart. The next morning he 
 showed them to a friend who liked them so 
 much that he said, “We must have this printed 
 without delay.” 
 
 That night at a theater in Baltimore the 
 
234 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 words were sung to a well known tune. 
 Copies of the poem were handed out on the 
 street. In an hour it was all over the city. 
 Every one sang or whistled it. News of the 
 British attack and the defense of Baltimore 
 went speedily through the United States. 
 With it went the song written by Francis Scott 
 Key. In a fortnight distant New Orleans 
 was singing “The Star-spangled Banner.” 
 
 For more than a hundred years Americans 
 have sung it and have loved it. Every word 
 came warm from the heart of the man who 
 witnessed that thrilling scene. Every word 
 finds a response in the hearts of those who sing. 
 
 What a poem it is for spirit and for beauty! 
 Written during all the excitement of battle, 
 during the falling of shot and shell, of bombs 
 and rockets, there’s scarcely a word of fighting 
 in its four stanzas. Written by a southerner, 
 it has no hint of North or South, only of loy- 
 alty to the nation. Written by a man held by 
 British orders there is no suggestion of 
 triumph over an enemy. It is a prayer for the 
 future of America, the land of the free. 
 
 This is the story of the glorious, faded, 
 tattered flag with the fifteen stripes and fif- 
 teen stars, now in the National Museum in 
 
STAR-SPANGLED BANNER 235 
 
 Washington — the flag that floated over Fort 
 McHenry in 1814. This is the story of the 
 holiday celebrated each September in the state 
 of Maryland. 
 
ON THE JANICULUM HILL 
 
 THE TWENTIETH OF SEPTEMBER 
 
 This is a gala day in Italy. From Lom- 
 bardy in the north to Sicily in the south the 
 people are rejoicing. Red, white and green 
 flags are flying everywhere — in Milan and 
 Venice, in Naples and Palermo and Florence, 
 in the little island of Caprera off the coast of 
 Sardinia. 
 
 Nowhere is the holiday spirit more evident 
 than in Rome. Soldiers and civilians throng 
 that narrow main street called the Corso. The 
 king is holding a grand review. The people 
 cheer him as he rides along with his staff, cheer 
 the Italian flag, cheer the gallant Bersaglieri, 
 the king’s own regiment in dark uniforms and 
 broad-brimmed hats plumed with green cock 
 feathers. Over and over again they call out, 
 “Viva lTtalia! Viva r Italia!” 
 
 As the king rides by the Janiculum Hill and 
 the equestrian statue there, he bares his head 
 in silent homage to that figure of a soldier 
 
 236 
 
ITALY 
 
 287 
 
 overlooking the city on the seven hills. The 
 crowds see his action and cry out again, “Viva 
 l’ltalia e Victor Emmanuel!” And some of 
 them cry, “Viva lTtalia e Garibaldi!” 
 
 This gala day is not so old as many other 
 national holidays. Only to 1870 can it look 
 back, so new is Italy among the countries of 
 the world — the true Italy, once merely “a 
 geographical expression,” a house divided 
 against itself, now united into one strong 
 government. 
 
 On the twentieth of September, 1870 there 
 was fighting in Rome. The French troops 
 who had for years been stationed there to 
 defend the pope were called home by the out- 
 break of the Prussian war. At last, at last 
 came the opportunity for which the patriots of 
 Italy impatiently waited. Victor Emmanuel 
 called upon Pius IX to surrender. Only to 
 force would the pope yield. The king directed 
 his army to march on the city. 
 
 Early in the morning the attack began. 
 The papal troops were very few. They were 
 powerless to resist fifty thousand trained sol- 
 diers. Near the Porta Pia a breach was made 
 in the walls. Crying “Viva Savoia!” the 
 king’s men dashed through. By noon the 
 
238 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 whole city was in their hands. At St. Peter’s 
 a white flag was hoisted. 
 
 After fifteen hundred years Rome had be- 
 come the capital of a united Italy. Yes, for 
 fifteen centuries her people had dreamed of 
 this day — dreamed though foreign rulers tyr- 
 annized over them for a thousand years, 
 dreamed though the country was broken up 
 into a dozen little kingdoms, duchies, grand 
 duchies and republics, an easy prey to stronger 
 neighbors. 
 
 Not till the following June was the govern- 
 ment moved from Florence to Rome. Not 
 till then did Victor Emmanuel enter the city 
 riding side by side with the man in the red 
 shirt. Not till five months later did the first 
 all-Italy parliament meet in the palace on the 
 Capitol. The king opened its session saying, 
 “The work to which we have devoted our lives 
 is accomplished.” He was interrupted by such 
 a storm of applause that the cheering was 
 heard in far distant streets. 
 
 But the people of Italy did not need to wait 
 for these later events. When the Bersaglieri 
 dashed through the walls of Rome on that 
 twentieth of September, for them the dream 
 had come true. And it is this date they have 
 
ITALY 289 
 
 made their great holiday, celebrating the 
 triumph of Italian unity. 
 
 To whom was this triumph due ? 
 
 Some say to a short, thickset, little man with 
 monstrous mustachios, Victor Emmanuel, the 
 first king of modern Italy. He was the young 
 duke of Savoy when his father abdicated and 
 made him king of Sardinia. With good rea- 
 son the soldiers loved him, for he was himself 
 a soldier born and bred. During one battle 
 when victory seemed to smile on the Austrians, 
 sword in hand he rode toward a regiment, his 
 eyes flashing, his mustachios bristling on end, 
 and cried, “With me, Guards, to save the 
 honor of Savoy!” The famous Zouaves were 
 filled with admiration for his fiery valor when 
 they saw him rally his men and lead a charge 
 that gained the day. 
 
 Offered easier terms by Austria if he would 
 recall the constitution granted by his father 
 and fly the standard of Savoy instead of the 
 Italian flag, he refused without a moment’s 
 hesitation. Boldly he affirmed that he would 
 “preserve intact the constitution and uphold 
 the tricolor, the symbol of Italian nationality 
 which vanquished today will one day triumph.” 
 He must perforce accept the harsh terms of 
 
240 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 peace which Austria dictated. But he rode 
 away from Novara waving aloft his sword and 
 exclaiming in resolute terms, “Italia sara!” 
 (Italy shall be!) 
 
 He won the confidence of his subjects by 
 his strength of character and honesty of pur- 
 pose. II re galantuomo, the king who is a man 
 of honor they called him, a title won by a life- 
 time’s devotion to Italian liberty. Shrewd he 
 was and bold, with dash and impetuous energy, 
 always a man of his word. Yes, Italy owes 
 much to Victor Emmanuel. 
 
 Some there are who think the credit goes 
 to Mazzini, the poet and dreamer who at six- 
 teen put on mourning for Italy and wore it for 
 the rest of his life. Dreaming of a free and 
 united country he organized “Young Italy,” 
 a society which in two years grew to sixty 
 thousand and was perhaps the greatest one 
 cause of final success. In the hearts of 
 Italians it roused the spirit of nationality. 
 
 Mazzini was tireless in conspiracy. Exiled 
 from his own land, driven from France and 
 Switzerland he lived for years in England. 
 Always he preached and taught freedom for 
 Italy. Always he was plotting and counter- 
 plotting, urging and encouraging. It was he 
 
ITALY 
 
 241 
 
 who planned the desperate raid (one of many 
 such) which ended in Garibaldi’s proscription. 
 It was he who first told Europe, in a periodical 
 he published in London and later in news- 
 papers in Florence and Genoa and Turin, of 
 the South American exploits of the man in the 
 red shirt ; and told them in such glowing colors 
 that on his return to Italy Garibaldi found 
 himself with a widespread reputation as a dash- 
 ing, skilful leader. He had only to ask for 
 soldiers and they rallied round him. Ah yes, 
 to Mazzini, the soul of Italy, who breathed a 
 new hope into his countrymen is owed more 
 than can ever be repaid. 
 
 Some there are who say the triumph of Sep- 
 tember twentieth was due to Count Cavour, 
 the constructive statesman of modern Italy. 
 A newspaper editor, a practical farmer, a stu- 
 dent and traveler, he became Victor Em- 
 manuel’s chief adviser. He was keen enough 
 to see that Italy’s independence could be won 
 only through the conflict of her stronger neigh- 
 bors. He was a master hand at diplomacy, at 
 all the ins and outs of trading and negotiating. 
 
 But whatever steps Cavour took — courting 
 the friendship of France, goading Austria into 
 war — he kept his eyes always on the one goal, 
 
242 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 Italy’s freedom. Toward this single purpose 
 he fused the hopes of Mazzini, the incredible 
 leadership of Garibaldi, the king’s enlightened 
 patriotism. The whole responsibility of the 
 government he carried on his shoulders. Men 
 called him the brain of Italy. His health gave 
 way so that he died at fifty. “If I had died 
 instead,” said Victor Emmanuel, “it would 
 have been better for Italy.” Yes, the new na- 
 tion owes much to Cavour, the master builder. 
 
 But give as generously as you will their dues 
 to brave and resolute king, to brilliant prime 
 minister, to exile clad in black, his countrymen 
 give a greater praise to Giuseppe Garibaldi, 
 the sword of Italy. In all of modern history 
 can you find a story as romantic, as full of 
 chivalry and daring, of headlong courage and 
 self-denial as the tale of the man in the red 
 shirt ? 
 
 Like all his family since the days of Colum- 
 bus Garibaldi was bred a sailor. In eleven 
 years he worked up from cabin-boy to master. 
 He was only a lad when he sailed with his 
 father to the mouth of the Tiber and the two 
 went up to Rome. His imagination was fired 
 as they walked through the streets breathing 
 of twenty-five centuries of glory. He passed 
 
ITALY 
 
 243 
 
 ruins that told of imperial Rome, once mistress 
 of the world. He saw priests and monks and 
 cardinals and papal soldiers telling of 
 spiritual Rome and many years of church his- 
 tory. The memory of the city’s former name 
 made him believe firmly in her future great- 
 ness. 
 
 Now he saw a third Rome sitting proudly on 
 those seven hills amid all the beauty and grand- 
 eur of the past. This was a Rome that few 
 men even dreamed of — the capital of a new 
 Italy, free from foreign rule, united. Boy as 
 he was he never forgot that suggestion, never 
 lost that vision. 
 
 He was as overjoyed as Columbus discover- 
 ing a new continent, when he was first put in 
 touch with “Young Italy.” All his life he 
 took Mazzini as his guide and counselor, his 
 friend and teacher. He made one of a band 
 that planned a raid into Piedmont, was be- 
 trayed and outlawed, sentenced to be shot. 
 Disguised in an old suit of peasant clothes he 
 escaped into France and thence to South 
 America. 
 
 Now a cattleman, now a tutor in mathe- 
 matics he fought with any group struggling 
 for freedom. A wild guerrilla warfare he 
 
244 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 carried on, sometimes with a few score of fol- 
 lowers, sometimes with a few thousand, but al- 
 ways against great odds. His name was a 
 terror to the enemy on land and sea, His ad- 
 ventures totaled an incredible number, as ex- 
 citing and thrilling as those of the Cid or 
 Ulysses. 
 
 Shot down on the deck of his ship, for days 
 at the point of death, in the intervals of de- 
 lirium he set the course for his men who had 
 beaten off their foes, but could not sail the ves- 
 sel. He was taken prisoner and hung up by 
 the wrists for two hours; later the man guilty 
 of this torture fell into his power and was re- 
 leased without a word of reproach. He wan- 
 dered for days in the forest. Shipwrecked he 
 saved his life by his remarkable powers of 
 swimming. 
 
 All reward for his services, money or grants 
 of land, he refused. Yet he was so poor at this 
 time that he possessed just one red shirt and 
 the family went to bed at sunset to save 
 candles. Always he dreamed of Italy free 
 and united. 
 
 In 1848 Europe was quivering with excite- 
 ment. France had declared herself a republic. 
 From north to south Italy was straining like 
 
ITALY 
 
 245 
 
 a hound in leash. After more than a century 
 of the rule of the Bourbon kings Sicily re- 
 belled. The king of Sardinia granted his 
 people a constitution. Piedmont began war 
 against Austria. 
 
 Yews of all these movements reached a little 
 group of Italians, exiles and refugees in 
 Montevideo. Their dauntless leader Gari- 
 baldi had been dreaming and hoping for just 
 this opportunity. Fighting now for a prov- 
 ince of Brazil, now for Uruguay he had formed 
 an Italian Legion of five hundred men, plan- 
 ning to use this force to help win the freedom 
 of their native land. 
 
 Eighty-five of this now famous Legion 
 sailed back to Italy, crossed the Apennines in 
 the teeth of snowstorms, and marched toward 
 Rome spreading the gospel of liberty through 
 the villages on their way. They were a gaunt 
 group dressed in the red shirts of South 
 American cattlemen, with pointed hats topped 
 with plumes, their legs bare, their faces tanned 
 to copper color. Riding down the narrow 
 Corso at their head was the outlaw Garibaldi 
 in his red shirt and long poncho of white lined 
 with red, with a bright handkerchief loosely 
 knotted round his throat. The crowds 
 
246 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 shouted, “He has come! He has come!” 
 
 The pope had fled from Rome. Garibaldi 
 was chosen a member of the assembly. Crip- 
 pled with rheumatism he was carried into the 
 hall by a staff officer, to be present when the 
 Roman Republic was proclaimed. His was 
 the first voice to cry “Viva la Republica !” For 
 a brief time the dream of his boyhood, of 
 Italy’s resurrection was true. 
 
 The rulers of Austria and Spain and France 
 and Naples joined forces to restore the pope. 
 Garibaldi was placed in command of the city’s 
 volunteer defenders. Outnumbered more than 
 three to one by an enemy supplied with camion 
 and munitions, his little force fought valiantly 
 and well. How could so small a garrison 
 maintain an eighteen-mile defense? By sheer 
 weight of numbers the French broke through 
 the city walls. 
 
 The assembly debated whether to surrender, 
 die fighting from street to street, or escape to 
 the mountains. Garibaldi was summoned 
 from his post on the Janiculum Hill. Just as 
 he was, his face streaked with sweat, his clothes 
 stained with blood and dust, his sword so bent 
 that he could not force it into the scabbard, he 
 galloped across the Tiber and entered the 
 
ITALY 
 
 247 
 
 hall. Surrender? What — surrender Rome? 
 Never, never! Let government and army flee 
 to the mountains. Wherever they went, there 
 Rome would be ! And so it proved though for 
 years Rome lived in the hearts of a few exiles. 
 
 The assembly voted to surrender. 
 
 In the great square before St. Peter’s Gari- 
 baldi hastily called his troops together and pro- 
 posed that they march with him into the wil- 
 derness. 
 
 “A new war I offer you,” he cried. “I can 
 give you no pay, no rest, food where it can be 
 found. I can give you hunger and thirst, 
 forced marches, battle and death. If you love 
 Italy in your hearts and not with your lips 
 only, follow me.” 
 
 A mad march it was, the wildest and most 
 adventurous of many. Pursued by flying col- 
 umns of French and Austrian and Neapolitan 
 soldiers they fled through bypaths of the moun- 
 tains, along the tracks of goatherds, using de- 
 vices learned in South American wilds. Gari- 
 baldi gave up his plan to reach Venice and 
 doubled back across Italy. Every day there 
 were narrow escapes from discovery. At 
 every step he carried his life in his hands. Fi- 
 nally he sailed in a fishing boat from a little 
 
248 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 Tuscan village. Standing up in the stern he 
 called back to his friends on shore, “Viva 
 ITtalia!” 
 
 Asked to leave France, then Tunis, then 
 Gibraltar, he crossed the Atlantic to New 
 York and lived there for a year and more, 
 earning his living making candles. Then 
 off to sea again — to South America, to China, 
 and so to England and back to Genoa. With 
 a little money saved from his voyages he 
 bought part of the island of Caprera, off the 
 coast of Sardinia. He lived in a stone house 
 built with his own hands. He tended his sheep 
 and goats, tilled the fields, and taught his chil- 
 dren to read. All the time he was listening, 
 listening for the voice of Italy. 
 
 Her call came in 1859. With France as 
 her ally Cavour began another war with 
 Austria. Garibaldi was summoned to enlist 
 and lead the volunteers. The Austrians were 
 bewildered by the speed and the bold rashness 
 of his movements. In mountains and plains, 
 night and day he kept up his skirmishing. 
 Pursued he slipped through the fingers of the 
 enemy. Two great battles the allies won. 
 Suddenly peace was made. There was noth- 
 ing more that Garibaldi could do. 
 
ITALY 
 
 249 
 
 Lombardy, Tuscany and some of the small 
 duchies joined with Piedmont, calling Victor 
 Emmanuel the king of Italy. But much of 
 the country was not free. Stretching from 
 sea to sea, separating south from north were 
 the papal states. 
 
 The next year an opening came. A slight 
 change it seemed at first. The king of the 
 two Sicilies died and his son, a weak and ig- 
 norant boy, succeeded. A revolt began in 
 Palermo, was suppressed, broke out again. 
 At his little island Garibaldi received a secret 
 message to come at once to head the patriots 
 of Sicily. 
 
 Early in May two ships sailed from Genoa 
 in the night, carrying the man in the red shirt 
 and the famous Thousand. They landed on 
 the eleventh and took Palermo, fighting be- 
 hind barricades from street to street, then 
 Milazzo and Messina in one victory after an- 
 other. At the cry “Italy and Victor Em- 
 manuel!” men flocked to join this hero till his 
 army grew from one thousand to twelve. 
 
 Thirty thousand troops opposing them? 
 On they swept, crossed to the mainland and 
 marched three hundred miles to Naples which 
 the boy -king had left in hurried flight the day 
 
250 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 before. As snow melts before the summer 
 sun the Bourbon armies melted before the 
 very name of Garibaldi. 
 
 “The bullets we aim at him,” complained the 
 royal soldiers, “lodge in his red shirt and he 
 shakes them out at bedtime. He’s in league 
 with the devil!” 
 
 “A saviour sent direct from heaven,” the 
 people called him. 
 
 A temporary government was organized 
 and Garibaldi proclaimed dictator. These un- 
 usual powers he accepted only until the king 
 of Italy could arrive. The Sicilian fleet he 
 presented to Victor Emmanuel, at one stroke 
 increasing the navy from five ships to ninety- 
 five — a gift from the cabin-boy. 
 
 “Complete victory all along the line,” Gari- 
 baldi telegraphed after his final battle with the 
 Neapolitan army, a struggle that lasted for 
 twelve hours. The king of Italy marched 
 southward at this news, scattered the pope's 
 forces and took possession of the papal states, 
 except the city of Rome, then went on south 
 to the frontier of Naples. 
 
 At the crossroads near the toll cottage a 
 group of horsemen waited. A military band 
 played the royal march announcing the king’s 
 
ITALY 
 
 251 
 
 arrival. Garibaldi rode forward and bowed 
 low exclaiming, “I hail the first king of 
 Italy!” 
 
 “How are you, dear Garibaldi?” said the 
 king and shook his hand warmly. 
 
 Side by side, followed by their staffs rode 
 the man in the red shirt and the king in re- 
 splendent uniform, on whom had been be- 
 stowed the crown of the two Sicilies with nine 
 million new subjects. Trumpets blowing, 
 banners waving they entered Naples together. 
 
 “Rome,” argued Garibaldi, “belongs to 
 Italy. Neither pope nor emperor has a right 
 to keep me out of it.” 
 
 Ring and prime minister however knew that 
 they were not strong enough to organize the 
 south of Italy and at the same time fight the 
 French at Rome. Sick at heart that the con- 
 flict could not go on till the work was finished 
 Garibaldi determined to go back to Caprera. 
 
 They offered him the rank of marshal, the 
 cross of a famous order, a pension of half a 
 million francs, the title of prince, a dowry for 
 his daughter, honors for his sons, a castle, an 
 estate, a steamer for himself. As he had re- 
 fused rewards and honors in South America 
 he refused them now. What cared he for 
 
252 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 wealth, for titles? This man who might have 
 been a king lived one degree above the 
 peasants. He asked only to win Rome for 
 Italy. 
 
 The Thousand crowded around him to say 
 goodbye. Many of them were sobbing. 
 Garibaldi’s voice shook as he said, “Thanks! 
 You have done much with scant means in 
 scant time. But more is yet to do. We shall 
 meet on the road to Rome. Farewell.” 
 
 Poorer than when he left his island, for the 
 equipment of the Thousand had been largely 
 at his own expense, the man in the red shirt re- 
 turned home. His secretary anxiously told 
 him of the state of his pocket-book. 
 
 “Don’t be worried. We have plent} 7 of 
 wood and corn which we will sell.” 
 
 As months went by and nothing was done 
 Garibaldi grew impatient. Crying “Rome or 
 death!” he gathered a band of hot-tempered 
 radicals in Sicily, crossed to the mainland and 
 started north. Italy was at peace with 
 France. She could not countenance such an 
 attack. The King’s troops met Garibaldi 
 near Reggio and bade him withdraw. Shots 
 were fired. The man in the red shirt ■was 
 wounded and taken prisoner. 
 
ITALY 
 
 253 
 
 Another war with Austria gave Venice 
 back to Italy. Still impatient Garibaldi tried 
 once more, but his rash enterprise was de- 
 feated by the French. Not until September 
 of 1870 did the king’s army enter the eternal 
 city. Garibaldi’s dream of Rome as capital 
 of all Italy, the dream of the bo) r , the dream 
 of the exile riding across South American 
 plains, the dream of the soldier defending his 
 post on the Janiculum Hill had come true. 
 
 Speaking one day of the deliverance of 
 Italy Garibaldi remarked, “Some men attri- 
 bute success to Victor Emmanuel and some to 
 Cavour and some to the great Mazzini. 
 There are even those who give me the credit. 
 Rut it was not the work of this man or of that. 
 We all did our best.” 
 
 It has become the custom, a custom that 
 will some day be a beautiful tradition, that 
 when the king of Italy passes the statue on 
 the Janiculum Hill he takes off his hat in 
 silent tribute to the man in the red shirt. As 
 Rome was to Garibaldi the symbol of united 
 Italy, to Italians he himself is now this 
 symbol. For he loved his country not with 
 his lips only, but in his heart. 
 
THE STRANGER IN THE 
 THREADBARE CLOAK 
 
 THE TWELFTH OF OCTOBER 
 
 Very early one Friday morning in the 
 autumn three ships sailed close to a little 
 island in the West Indies. A boat was 
 launched. A group of men rowed toward the 
 shore. 
 
 With banners and flags they landed, flags 
 with a green cross on one side and on the 
 other the letters F and Y embroidered in 
 gold. The leader, a tall man in a scarlet cloak 
 with flowing white hair and keen, gray eyes, 
 drew his sword and held it high. 
 
 “I take,” he said solemnly, “I take posses- 
 sion of this land for Castile. It shall be 
 called San Salvador.” 
 
 Kneeling he kissed the earth and with tears 
 gave thanks to God. The simple ceremony 
 was over. 
 
 Now the arrival of these men with waving 
 
 banners had not been unnoticed. Out from 
 
 254 
 
COLUMBUS DAY 
 
 255 
 
 the distant trees the natives of the island came 
 running to see the strangers. They were 
 dark-skinned and half naked, with their 
 bodies painted or greased. They were 
 amazed at these intruders whose faces were so 
 white, who wore such curious clothes covering 
 all their bodies except hands and faces. 
 
 As the newcomers walked a short distance 
 along the shore the natives turned and ran, 
 then came slowly back. They were reassured 
 by nods and smiles. Coming close they 
 touched the white skin as if to make cer- 
 tain that the strangers were real and not a 
 vision. 
 
 The leader offered presents — glass beads, 
 hawks’ bells, red caps. The dark-skinned 
 islanders in return gave him tame parrots, 
 some cotton yarn, a few small, gold ornaments. 
 At sight of these the eyes of the captain 
 gleamed. Eagerly he motioned, asking by a 
 gesture where they found the gold. 
 
 In the south, they pointed. 
 
 “Ah,” said the leader with a sigh, “this is 
 only an island north of Japan. It has beauti- 
 ful trees and shrubs. And gold’s near by!” 
 
 For eighteen years this white-haired man, 
 the son of an Italian weaver, had been dream- 
 
256 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 in g and hoping and working to accomplish 
 his purpose. And now he was here! 
 
 Yet things were not just as he had expected. 
 Where were the riches of Cathay and India? 
 where the great cities with palaces roofed with 
 gold and bridges of costly stone, and crowded 
 wharves with the vessels of all the world load- 
 ing rich spices and gold and pearls? where the 
 kings of strange eastern lands? These fright- 
 ened, child-like red men — who were they? 
 Some tribe of Indians they must be. 
 
 The new world to which these three ships 
 had sailed was not in 1492 the world of the 
 twentieth century. Its only people were 
 savages who lived by hunting and fishing, who 
 carried on a cruel warfare with neighboring 
 tribes, who journeyed from island to island in 
 rude canoes hollowed out of logs. 
 
 And the old world from which the three 
 ships had sailed was not the Europe of today. 
 Its people were living at the end of the Middle 
 Ages, just rousing to discovery of new lands. 
 There was a fever of excitement in the air. 
 This was especially true in the town where 
 lived the clothweaver and his sons. Back and 
 forth over the Mediterranean sailed the ships 
 of the merchants of Genoa, bringing from the 
 
COLUMBUS DAY 
 
 257 
 
 eastern end of that inland sea rich cargoes that 
 had been carried overland by caravan from 
 the far east. 
 
 Beautiful silks and embroidered robes, fine 
 weapons, spices and pepper greatly prized for 
 seasoning the plain, coarse food of that day, 
 these the boy Columbus saw unloaded. What 
 stories he heard from the sailors — of pirates 
 who attacked trading ships and stole their 
 goods, of the Turks who had conquered the 
 lands at the end of the Mediterranean and 
 forbade all trade. 
 
 The sea was the only highroad to fame and 
 fortune. With business ruined by the Turks 
 many Genoese sailors and mapmakers went to 
 Portugal. Her mariners were at that time 
 the best in Europe. They had discovered 
 more new lands — islands to the west, sections 
 of the African coast that took them farther 
 and farther south, farther as they hoped on the 
 water route to India. With the other Italians 
 went two sons of this poor weaver. 
 
 As he pored over his maps and read books 
 about geography, books that you can see now 
 in Spanish libraries with his notes in the mar- 
 gins, Christopher Columbus was thinking out 
 his great scheme. He believed that the earth 
 
258 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 was round, not flat. Estimating its size as 
 much less than it really is, he argued that the 
 shortest way to the east was to sail west. He 
 tried to prove this on a map, but said, “It 
 shows more plainly on a sphere.” 
 
 Such a voyage was practical, he reasoned, 
 for there were islands all the way along — 
 stepping stones to India. Off the coast of 
 Asia Marco Polo said there were seven thou- 
 sand islands. Why not sail west and reach 
 the east? And who better than Columbus 
 himself could captain such an expedition? 
 Not many men of that day were so well 
 educated. He read and wrote Latin and 
 Italian, Spanish and Portuguese. Maps he 
 made, beautiful and accurate. He knew 
 mathematics and astronomy and the art of 
 navigation. He had the imagination to plan 
 this voyage and the boldness to carry it 
 through. He had one other quality — per- 
 sistence, a bull-dog hold-on-to-one-idea that 
 would not let him relinquish it though years 
 went by before he could get the help he 
 needed. 
 
 For such a voyage he must have stout ships 
 and brave crews. Ships cost money. Sailors 
 must be paid wages. Where secure them? 
 
COLUMBUS DAY 
 
 259 
 
 First Columbus asked his home town. 
 Genoa was busy with a war and would do 
 nothing. 
 
 Then he went to the king of Portugal. He 
 explained his scheme and pointed out that a 
 sea route to India would secure for some 
 country the rich trade with the far east. He 
 asked for ships and sailors, and for himself 
 a large share of whatever wealth might be 
 obtained from his discovery and the governor- 
 ship of the lands found. The Portuguese 
 refused. 
 
 Might it be worth while to test out this 
 Italian’s scheme? The king sent some ships 
 to the Cape Yerde islands and gave his 
 captains secret orders to sail on westward 
 into the Atlantic to search for islands, 
 stepping stones to India. Frightened at the 
 great waste of ocean around them the Portu- 
 guese sailors soon turned back and ridiculed 
 the plan. Sick at heart at such deceit 
 Columbus went to Spain. 
 
 He supported himself by selling maps and 
 books. Ever before him he kept his purpose 
 of a voyage westward. Men laughed at him 
 as a dreamer. Children poked fun at him. 
 He went about so ill-clad that he was called 
 
260 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 “the stranger in the threadbare cloak.” But 
 the scheme had gripped him and would not 
 let him go. It was the passion of his life — 
 to sail west and reach the east, to get great 
 riches from its trade, to govern those strange 
 lands. He could not give up. 
 
 For eight years Coumbus talked over his 
 great scheme — talked to anybody who would 
 give him a hearing, to wise men from the court 
 and university, to the queen’s advisers. They 
 listened and asked many questions. Some 
 laughed at his notions and declared him a wild 
 dreamer. Some touched their foreheads to 
 show that he was crazy. Some said, “If the 
 earth is a sphere there’s no answer to your 
 argument about east and west. Spain would 
 be the richest country in the world if she’ll 
 only fit out the ships, supply the sailors, and 
 send you on this great voyage of discovery.” 
 But nothing was done. 
 
 Planning then to seek help in France 
 Columbus went down to the south of Spain to 
 get his little boy who since the mother’s death 
 had lived there with an aunt. Near the towm 
 of Palos the two stopped at the convent of 
 LaRabida. The father asked for a crust of 
 bread and a cup of water for the child. The 
 
COLUMBUS DAY 
 
 261 
 
 prior noticed the white-haired stranger at the 
 gate, shabby but with a noble air, speaking 
 Spanish with a foreign accent. He invited 
 Columbus into the convent and talked with 
 him. 
 
 Here was an interested listener. He asked 
 many questions about the plans for this voyage 
 and learned that though discouraged the 
 stranger still believed in it. The good prior 
 proposed writing to the queen whose con- 
 fessor he had been, urging her to undertake 
 the expenses of the expedition. Would 
 Columbus and the boy wait there till the letter 
 could be sent and an answer received? Yes, 
 they would wait. 
 
 In a fortnight the messenger returned 
 bringing orders for the prior to come to the 
 queen at once. Shortly he was back, with 
 money to provide a court suit for Columbus 
 and a mule for the journey. His friendship 
 was worth more than that of all the wise men 
 of Spain. 
 
 The queen Isabella resolved to send Colum- 
 bus on this voyage. But when they came to 
 talk over the details she was amazed, as had 
 been the Portuguese, to learn his demands — 
 the governorship of all lands he might discover 
 
262 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 and a share of their riches and trade. Eight 
 years of poverty and waiting had not been long 
 enough to change his mind. 
 
 “No,” said the queen, “you ask too much. 
 We refuse all help.” 
 
 Sadly, wearily Columbus turned away. He 
 would offer to France the discovery of a new 
 route to India. Surrender his plan? Give 
 up? Never! 
 
 Now the queen’s treasurer and his friends 
 were distressed that France should have the 
 glory and riches resulting from this voyage, 
 all because Spain would not risk what seemed 
 a small amount of money, about sixty thousand 
 dollars. They went to Isabella, for they’d no- 
 ticed that she was much more interested in the 
 plan than King Ferdinand was. Again they 
 told of the wonderful riches of the east, of the 
 honor and wealth that would come to Spain, 
 and urged her to equip the expedition. 
 
 “I will do it,” she said decisively. “I will 
 get the money from my own kingdom of Cas- 
 tile.” 
 
 By furious riding the royal messenger over- 
 took Columbus jogging along on his mule six 
 miles from Granada. 
 
 “Return at once. The queen commands it. 
 
COLUMBUS DAY 
 
 263 
 
 She and the king agree to all your demands.” 
 
 First to get the ships. The little town of 
 Palos had offended the rulers of Spain. As 
 a punishment it was ordered to furnish Colum- 
 bus two ships and their crews. A third vessel 
 he got in Palos. 
 
 Next the sailors. He offered the wages paid 
 on warships, a sum higher than other captains 
 gave. He promised too four months’ pay in 
 advance. But nobody wanted to go with him. 
 Men were afraid of dangers lurking in un- 
 known seas. They’d never see their homes 
 again. Prisoners were released from jail if 
 they would sail with Columbus. Debts were 
 forgiven if the debtors would join his expedi- 
 tion. Finally crews of ninety were secured. 
 
 Half an hour before sunrise on the morning 
 of the third of August, 1492, the three ships 
 lifted their anchors, spread their sails and 
 headed out to sea from the harbor of Palos. 
 They were within sight of the friendly convent 
 of LaRabida. The shore was lined with men 
 and women weeping and wringing their hands, 
 bemoaning the fate of the doomed sailors. 
 
 Such little vessels they were. The flagship, 
 the Santa Maria , was just over sixty feet in 
 length and twenty wide; a dull, slow sailer, 
 
264 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 Columbus complained, not suited to his pur- 
 pose. The Nina and Pinta were even smaller 
 and open in the middle. With a good wind 
 they might make twelve miles an hour. 
 
 West to the Canary islands went the three 
 ships, stopped to mend a leak, repair a rudder, 
 and change sails. Then with fresh water and 
 supplies of food and wood, on the sixth of Sep- 
 tember they started westward again over 
 wholly unknown waters. The hearts of those 
 rugged men failed them as land disappeared 
 from view and they wept like children. 
 
 No one had ever gone so far west before. 
 Therefore the ocean must be filled with count- 
 less dangers. They w’ere superstitious and 
 feared the great monsters that lived in the Sea 
 of Darkness, as they called the Atlantic. Day 
 after day the wind blew from the east. This 
 hastened their voyage, but made them fret over 
 the difficulty of sailing home again. 
 
 The behavior of the compass alarmed them. 
 As they went on it pointed not west of north, 
 but exactly north and finally a bit to the east 
 of north. When the pilots found their faith- 
 ful guide acting so queerly they cried out, “It’s 
 bewitched! It plays these foul tricks to pun- 
 ish us for our boldness. All the laws of na- 
 
COLUMBUS DAY 
 
 265 
 
 ture are changed in this topsy-turvy world!” 
 For some days the ships sailed through great 
 masses of seaweed — weeds as thick as a man’s 
 thumb and very long. Would they get en- 
 tangled so they could not get out? Were these 
 river weeds from some land not far away? 
 Why not stop and search for it? 
 
 “No,” said Columbus firmly. “We are 
 sailing to the coast of Asia. Stop perhaps on 
 the return. But now west, west, west! Sail 
 on, sail on! Nothing shall delay us.” 
 
 Late one afternoon the lookouts saw what 
 appeared to be a coastline. It was really 
 heavy banks of clouds. In the morning the 
 mirage was gone. 
 
 “The place is enchanted!” they cried. 
 
 Day after day the sun rose out of the water. 
 Night after night it set again in the ocean. 
 Westward, always to the west Columbus set 
 the course. His men despaired, hoped, de- 
 spaired the more. They urged him to return. 
 Among themselves they suggested pushing 
 him overboard. But how could they sail back 
 to Spain without him? 
 
 “Impossible to start back now,” he said. 
 “What would the king and queen say if we 
 failed to go just a little farther? Land must 
 
266 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 be near. It must be. If we keep on we’ll 
 reach the coast of Asia and that will make us 
 all rich.” 
 
 Hope sprang up again when on the third of 
 October they saw branches floating by, 
 branches that bore red berries. Four days 
 later the Nina which happened to be in the 
 lead, fired a gun and ran up a flag — the signal 
 agreed on when land was sighted. Again a 
 mistake. Flocks of birds were seen. There 
 were stories of Portuguese explorers who fol- 
 lowed birds and found land. Some of 
 them lighted on the masts and sang. Impos- 
 sible for such tiny creatures to venture far, the 
 men argued, and not be too exhausted to sing. 
 
 There was constant watching in the west. 
 Every sailor was anxious to win the prize 
 offered to the first person who sighted land. 
 On the night of the eleventh, straining his eyes 
 in the darkness Columbus saw a light moving 
 up and down, disappear, come into view again. 
 Was some one running along the shore with 
 a torch? 
 
 “Land ho!” the lookout’s voice rang out at 
 two in the morning. A gun was fired. There 
 it lay before them, vague and shadow} 7 , but 
 land, undoubtedly land! To avoid running 
 
COLUMBUS DAY 267 
 
 ashore in the night time the sails were furled, 
 the prows turned to the east. 
 
 Did any man on board sleep between two 
 o’clock and dawn? What would day show 
 them — the true coast of Asia with great cities 
 and untold riches? gold enough to make their 
 fortunes ? 
 
 The voyage was over. The dream of Co- 
 lumbus was an accomplished fact. They had 
 found the same kind of sea they were used to 
 near Europe. The Atlantic was as calm as 
 the Guadalquiver at Seville. Not one strange 
 event had occurred. Portuguese sailors had 
 more than once made longer voyages than 
 thirty-six days. But this one stood out from 
 all the others of that age: Columbus had sailed 
 straight west two thousand miles farther than 
 any ship had ever gone before. To the world 
 he gave new continents. 
 
 Morning came. The Spaniards saw before 
 them a beautiful, low island. With banners 
 flying they claimed it in the name of Castile. 
 
 For three months they cruised about sailing 
 along the coast of Cuba and Haiti. This the 
 natives called Cibano. 
 
 “Cipango!” exclaimed Columbus, “Cipango! 
 Marco Polo’s name for Japan!” 
 
268 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 They traded with the natives. Always they 
 looked, looked for gold. On Christmas day 
 the Santa Maria ran aground on a sandbank 
 and was wrecked. From her timbers a little 
 fort was built on the north coast of Haiti. 
 Forty men were left to hunt for gold and 
 spices. 
 
 “I shall expect you to have two thousand 
 pounds of gold by the time I return,” Colum- 
 bus told them. 
 
 A stormy voyage they had back to Spain. 
 The two little ships were separated and met 
 again in the harbor of Palos. So fearful was 
 Columbus that none of them would be saved, 
 in all the fury of the tempest he wrote out the 
 story of his voyage — the time it occupied, the 
 lands and people he had seen, his danger at 
 that moment. He addressed it to the king and 
 queen of Spain. He wrapped it in a waxed 
 cloth and placed it in a small barrel which he 
 threw overboard. 
 
 A duplicate copy he put in another barrel 
 on the deck of his ship so that it would float 
 off if she sank. If they were all lost at sea 
 perhaps the record w r ould be found. He did 
 not want future voyagers to imagine they 
 
COLUMBUS DAY 269 
 
 had come to some mysterious end and be for- 
 ever afraid to follow in their track. 
 
 On the fifteenth of March Columbus sailed 
 into Palos. The bells were set ringing. 
 Every one rejoiced at the return of the men 
 whose start they had watched with cries and 
 lamentations. What a story the voyagers had 
 to tell ! How the people crowded down to the 
 wharf to gaze wondering at the Indians and 
 the curious products of far-away lands! 
 
 From the court came orders for Columbus 
 to come at once to Barcelona and report on his 
 expedition. Slowly he traveled because of 
 the crowds of people who thronged about him. 
 At the hea*d of the procession were six red men 
 in feathers and war paint, wearing ornaments 
 of gold. Then came forty porters each carry- 
 ing a parrot in a cage, and other strange birds 
 with brilliant plumage. There were men with 
 branches of trees which were supposed to fur- 
 nish spices. 
 
 At the end came Christopher Columbus on 
 horseback and many Spanish nobles with him, 
 making a gorgeous cavalcade. Thus the 
 stranger in the threadbare cloak returned to 
 court. He was no longer a poor mapmaker 
 
270 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 urging an impossible scheme for which he de- 
 manded ships and men. He was a great dis- 
 coverer who had brought glory and honor to 
 Spain, and riches, riches! 
 
 Under their gilded canopy king and queen 
 and prince stood up to receive Columbus, a 
 mark of special respect shown only to royalty. 
 They motioned for him to be seated while he 
 told the story. The Indians, the trinkets of 
 gold, the pearl oysters, the parrots and 
 branches were all brought into the court. To 
 each in turn Columbus pointed as he described 
 the pleasing climate of this western land, the 
 air filled with fragrance, the beautiful birds 
 and flowers, the great wealth he thought the 
 natives possessed, only a taste of the riches to 
 come. King and queen and all the court fell 
 on their knees while the choir in the royal 
 chapel chanted the Te Deum. 
 
 For six weeks Columbus stayed in Barce- 
 lona. He was treated like one of the royal 
 family. He rode with the king and prince. 
 People saluted him on the street. Great 
 nobles of Spain paid him court. Ferdinand 
 gave him a coat of arms which made him too 
 a noble. He was the greatest man in Spain. 
 
 Who could know at that time that Cuba was 
 
COLUMBUS DAY 
 
 271 
 
 not the mainland, but an island ? that gold and 
 silver would be found later in Mexico and 
 Peru? that the crops of tobacco and cotton and 
 potatoes which Columbus reckoned of little 
 value, would give the world greater riches than 
 all the gold Spain would ever get from mines 
 in the new world? Who could foresee all the 
 results of this voyage? 
 
 “Easy enough to find a water route to 
 India,” said a guest at the cardinal’s banquet 
 given in honor of Columbus. “All one has to 
 do is to sail far enough west. If you hadn’t 
 discovered the Indies wouldn’t some one else?” 
 The Italian’s answer was a question. “Can 
 you make an egg stand on end?” 
 
 Man after man tried. All failed. 
 
 “Easy enough.” Columbus took up the 
 egg, crushed one end a little, and made it stand 
 alone. “Perfectly easy when some one else 
 has once done it, senor!” 
 
 Preparations for the second voyage were be- 
 gun without delay. Not three, but seventeen 
 ships were provided. But the story of this 
 and of the third voyage, when the mainland of 
 South America was discovered, and of the 
 fourth are not such pleasant reading. Colum- 
 bus found the Haiti fort in ruins ; all his men 
 
272 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 had been killed in return for the cruel treat- 
 ment they gave the Indians. 
 
 Discontent broke out and grave sickness. 
 Plots were hatched against the governor. The 
 unceasing search for gold brought small re- 
 sults. The enemies of Columbus reported to 
 the court that the colony was mismanaged. 
 An officer was sent to decide between him and 
 the leader of the rebellion. With no chance to 
 tell his side of the story the great discoverer 
 was placed in chains and sent back to Spain. 
 
 By Ferdinand’s orders the chains were re- 
 moved at once. Columbus was received again 
 at court. But his governorship of the Indies 
 was ended. The king made promises and did 
 nothing. 
 
 The health of Columbus was undermined by 
 hardships. He felt that he was neglected and 
 unjustly deprived of his rights. In the house 
 still shown to visitors, number seven in the 
 Street of Columbus in Valladolid, the great 
 voyager died. Save by a few close friends his 
 illness and death were unnoted. The new 
 world was not even named for him. 
 
 Four centuries after 1492 the country which 
 he discovered held in his memory a world ex- 
 position, the greatest ever known. Year after 
 
COLUMBUS DAY 
 
 278 
 
 year on this twelfth of October Spain ob- 
 serves a holiday. Italy keeps it and flags are 
 hung out in the seaport of Genoa. The 
 United States celebrates it, honoring a man 
 not born here, a man who never even heard 
 of such a country. Ten nations in South 
 America observe it, though their very names 
 he did not know. 
 
 Three continents keep this holiday, paying 
 tribute to the son of an Italian weaver, a man 
 who had faith and courage and perseverance. 
 
THE MAN WITH THE DARK 
 LANTERN 
 
 THE FIFTH OF NOVEMBER 
 
 Above the noise of the town sounded the 
 boys’ voices. 
 
 Oh, don’t you remember 
 The fifth of November, 
 
 The gunpowder treason and plot? 
 
 The group suddenly turned the corner of a 
 narrow, crooked street near the old walls of 
 York. They walked briskly along half sing- 
 ing, half chanting their old rhyme: 
 
 There is no reason 
 Why the gunpowder treason 
 Should ever be forgot. 
 
 “Remember Guy!” they cried. “Pray, sir, 
 remember Guy!” Two or three of them held 
 up their caps for pennies. “Please to remem- 
 ber the bonfire!” 
 
 274 
 
ENGLAND 
 
 275 
 
 “Guy? Bonfire?” questioned the American 
 as he hunted in his purse for sixpences. 
 “Guy? who in the world is Guy? And why a 
 bonfire on so mild a November day?” 
 
 “You’re from the States, sir, I’ll wager,” 
 said one of the lads. “Don’t you know about 
 Guy — Guy Fawkes? Do come down to High 
 Petergate tonight and see us burn him. Near 
 the minster, you know. We’ll tell you the 
 story then. And thanks for the money. It’s 
 just what we needed for Guy’s lantern. Ho 
 there, wait for me!” Off he ran to join the 
 others down the lane. 
 
 Don’t you remember 
 The fifth of November? 
 
 Their voices sounded more faintly. Then 
 the chant stopped. They appealed to the pass- 
 ersby to remember Guy. Pennies received, 
 they took up the rhyme again. 
 
 This is the day that God did prevent 
 To blow up his king and parliament. 
 
 By eight o’clock that evening the American 
 was on hand in the crowded square near the 
 old minster. What a merry mood every one 
 was in! The people waiting set off fire- 
 
276 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 works. Some of them sang, the same old 
 rhymes the boys had sung earlier in the day. 
 
 Presently the procession appeared. Boys, 
 boys, more boys! They were shouting and 
 singing, pointing in scorn to the great Guy 
 who was carried in their midst. By chance 
 the line halted in front of the very spot where 
 the American was standing so that he had a 
 good look at Guy and the children marching 
 with him on a twentieth century fifth of No- 
 vember. 
 
 What an absurd sight Guy Fawkes was! 
 In America he’d be called a scarecrow surely. 
 He was lifesize, made of straw and dressed in 
 nondescript, old clothes. His face was a 
 comic mask with a long, red nose. On his 
 head was a paper cap wound with bright rib- 
 bons. In one hand he had a bunch of matches, 
 in the other a dark lantern. Thus he was 
 paraded through the streets of York, sitting 
 in state in a great chair, while the crowd 
 shouted and jeered and the boys, their arms 
 full of firewood, sang again: 
 
 The fifth of November, 
 
 Since I can remember, 
 
 The gunpowder treason and plot. 
 
ENGLAND 
 
 277 
 
 The enormous pile of wood in the square was 
 lighted. The flames shot up crackling and 
 roaring. With shouts of glee the boys carry- 
 ing Guy’s chair pushed their way up and 
 dumped him into the bonfire. And while the 
 effigy burned they sang and danced around it. 
 
 There is no reason 
 
 Why the gunpowder treason 
 
 Should ever be forgot. 
 
 Nor will it as long as the fifth of November 
 is celebrated by English schoolboys. For 
 more than three hundred years this has been 
 a holiday in England, set aside by Parliament 
 in 1606 as “a holiday forever in thankfulness to 
 God for our deliverance.” Every British 
 child knows the exciting story of Guy F awkes 
 and the gunpowder plot. Here it is as a group 
 of boys in York, Guy’s birthplace, told it to a 
 visitor from the States. 
 
 When James I came to the throne Parlia- 
 ment House stood by the Thames River at 
 Westminster — of course not the stately build- 
 ings that are there today. At the south-west 
 corner was a little two-story house where lived 
 old Master Whynyard, the keeper of the king’s 
 
278 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 wardrobe. Most of the time he was away at 
 court, so he agreed to rent his house to Thomas 
 Percy. 
 
 But Percy didn’t think up this plan. It was 
 Catesby, a Roman Catholic who was bitterly 
 disappointed when James I enforced the 
 strictest laws against people of that religion — 
 laws that put priests to death for celebrating 
 mass and made men pay heavy fines for not 
 going to the Church of England sendees. 
 
 So he thought out a plan — the most des- 
 perate, terrible plan in all history! He’d take 
 vengeance on king and Parliament who were 
 responsible, he thought, for these cruel laws. 
 At one blow he’d destroy them all — King 
 James and the Prince of Wales, the lords and 
 bishops, the members of the Commons, the 
 king’s ministers. When they were all pres- 
 ent at the opening of Parliament he’d blow 
 them up with gunpowder! 
 
 What would happen then? 
 
 With the government all in confusion the 
 Catholics would rise and proclaim a new king 
 in England — Prince Charles or else his sister 
 Elizabeth. And this child would rule with 
 Catholic advisors. They would have all their 
 
ENGLAND 279 
 
 old rights again. Their religion would be re- 
 stored. 
 
 Some such plan Catesby worked out. To 
 four good friends he told it. They kept the 
 secret well. They met at night in Catesby’s 
 house in Lambeth — just across the Thames 
 from Westminster. They talked over their 
 scheme in mysterious whispers. They were 
 bound by an oath not to speak of it. 
 
 It was the spring of 1604 when Percy hired 
 the house. Parliament was to meet the follow- 
 ing February. It was none too soon to be 
 making their plans. Little by little they must 
 purchase what they needed. But they must 
 not meet too often. They separated and spent 
 the summer at different places in the country. 
 
 The early winter found them back again in 
 London. In December they began living in 
 the Westminster house. The first part of that 
 month they set to work. What a task they 
 had before them — to tunnel through from 
 Whynyard’s cellar to the space under Parlia- 
 ment House! 
 
 The wall proved to be twelve feet thick. 
 Digging and toiling in the dark cellar was a 
 dismal job. Only two could work at a time 
 
280 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 in the narrow space. Moreover they were 
 gentlemen by birth and education. They were 
 wholly unaccustomed to manual labor. At 
 the end of a fortnight thej T had accomplished 
 almost nothing at all! 
 
 Catesby had thought of everything. He had 
 laid in a store of food so that they would not 
 arouse suspicion by going out to buy pro- 
 visions. He had provided lanterns and can- 
 dles and tools — spades, pickaxes, augers, mat- 
 tocks. In his house at Lambeth were thirty- 
 six barrels of gunpowder, ready to be brought 
 over the river and stored in the cellar till the 
 fatal day should come. 
 
 A few more men Catesby had let into the 
 plot till there were thirteen in all. One was 
 Guido Fawkes, a Yorkshireman he’d met in 
 Holland, a soldier of fortune in the Spanish 
 army. “A man who knows his work,” Catesby 
 described him to the others. “I’ve chosen him 
 to prepare the mine.” 
 
 Day and night the conspirators labored. 
 But a wall of solid masonry was not easy to 
 mine. The stones were as hard and unyield- 
 ing as iron. In many places the mortar was 
 harder than the stones. L T nderground, with 
 only dim lanterns to guide them they dug on; 
 
ENGLAND 281 
 
 with hushed speech, with such a fearful secret 
 on their minds ! 
 
 One day they were startled at hearing voices 
 on the other side of the wall. Catesby fancied 
 he could hear people moving about. 
 
 “Who can it be? I thought only great, 
 empty vaults were there. Here, Guido ! Run 
 up to the street and keep your eyes and ears 
 open. Bring us word what you find.” 
 
 The tall, dark Fawkes threw down his pick- 
 axe and went up the cellar stairs. With a 
 question to this man and that he soon learned 
 about the building next door. Under Parlia- 
 ment House were coal cellars. They were 
 rented by a Mr. Skinner in King street. His 
 men were taking away some coal that 
 had been stored there. That explained the 
 rumbling noise just over their heads, and the 
 voices. 
 
 The plotters whispered, “If we could only 
 get possession of Skinner’s coal cellars ! Then 
 we needn’t tunnel through this endless wall. 
 We could easily be ready by February.” 
 
 At last Percy hit upon a plan. Going to 
 Dame Whynyard he told her his wife was com- 
 ing up from the country. There wasn’t half 
 room enough for all her packages and boxes. 
 
282 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 Couldn’t the good lady help him out? If she 
 could hire space from that coal merchant 
 he’d give her something handsome for her 
 trouble. Dame Whynyard agreed to try. 
 For seven pounds, a year’s rent, the conspira- 
 tors secured the cellar. 
 
 A few at a time, at dead of night the barrels 
 of gunpowder were brought across the river 
 and stored in Skinner’s space. Large stones 
 and bars of iron were thrown in to add to the 
 effects of the explosion. Then the whole mass 
 was carefully covered up with coal and fagots 
 of wood. 
 
 Prowling about Westminster Guy Fawkes 
 picked up the news that King J ames had post- 
 poned the meeting of Parliament till the au- 
 tumn. The day was set for the third of Octo- 
 ber. Once more the plotters separated and 
 went off to the country for the summer months. 
 
 Again the opening of Parliament was put 
 off till the fifth of November. The conspira- 
 tors’ plans were all completed. Catesby had 
 bought a ship which was anchored in the 
 Thames ready to sail, so after the firing of the 
 mine Guy Fawkes could escape to Flanders. 
 He had supplies of arms and relays of horses 
 
ENGLAND 283 
 
 so that his friends could ride through the coun- 
 try to rouse the Catholics. 
 
 When the group met there was only one 
 matter to be discussed. What should they do 
 about their Catholic friends who were members 
 of Parliament? Must they he blown up with 
 the rest? Why not save their lives? Why 
 not tell them to stay at home on the fifth of 
 November? 
 
 “No, no,” protested Robert Catesby, “that’s 
 risking too much. For the success of the plot, 
 for the good of the Church they must be sacri- 
 ficed.” 
 
 “Yes. Our private feelings must be sacri- 
 ficed for the general good.” 
 
 “But think ! What a terrible waste of life !” 
 said Tresham. 
 
 “What matter if a few perish, if only our 
 religion is restored? Rather than that our 
 project should not succeed,” cried Catesby, 
 “if they were as dear to me as my own son I’d 
 still say, they must be blown up !” 
 
 This decided word ended the discussion. 
 But Francis Tresham could not forget that his 
 sister’s husband was a member of the House of 
 Lords. How could he keep silence and let his 
 
284 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 brother-in-law walk into such a trap? Many 
 an Englishwoman would grieve on the fifth 
 of November. But of his sister’s sorrow 
 Tresham could not think calmly. Somehow 
 Lord Mounteagle must be warned. 
 
 Now the books of history do not agree about 
 Tresham. Some say he kept the secret to the 
 end and did nothing whatever to betray it. 
 Some say he loved Mounteagle and was de- 
 termined to save his life. And still others de- 
 clare that he was sick of the gunpowder plot 
 and of his guilty part in it ; that he was ready 
 to do anything in his power to make it fail; and 
 that the best way to save all those lives and his 
 fellow-conspirators as well was to notify some 
 member of Parliament of the danger. 
 
 On the twenty-sixth of October Lord 
 Mounteagle was dining at his country home 
 at Hoxton. A servant came in with a letter. 
 
 “What is this?” 
 
 “A stranger left it,” was all the servant 
 could tell. 
 
 Lord Mounteagle broke the seal and un- 
 folded the single sheet of paper. Strange — 
 there was no signature. There were no capi- 
 tals, no punctuation. It seemed to be all one 
 sentence. 
 
ENGLAND 
 
 285 
 
 Was this a joke? Was some friend teas- 
 ing him with a note written in a disguised 
 hand? 
 
 “My lord,” he read, “out of the love I bear to 
 some of your friends I have a care for your preser- 
 vation therefore I would advise you as you tender 
 your life to devise some excuse to shift of your 
 attendance at this Parliament for God and man 
 hath concurred to punish the wickedness of this time 
 and think not lightly of this advertisement but re- 
 tire yourself into your country where you may 
 expect the event in safety for though there be no 
 appearance of any stir yet I say they shall receive 
 a terrible blow this Parliament and yet they shall 
 not see who hurts them.” 
 
 Lord Mounteagle read the letter through 
 twice. Then he left the table and rode at once 
 to Whitehall. At the palace he showed the 
 warning message to the king’s minister. 
 
 “I’m not greatly surprised,” said Cecil. 
 “I’ve been hearing rumors of a rising among 
 the Catholics. Let us send for the Lord 
 Chamberlain.” Suddenly he turned to his 
 caller. “You bring me this, Mounteagle, you to 
 a Catholic?” 
 
 “I am a loyal Englishman first, sir.” 
 
286 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 When the Earl of Suffolk came the three 
 talked earnestly together. 
 
 “The fifth of November — that gives us 
 plenty of time. Delay till as near the date set 
 as possible. Don’t frighten the conspirators 
 away. Let us catch them red-handed!” 
 
 “Yes,” agreed the Lord Chamberlain. “If 
 we let them proceed to the last point it will add 
 to the value of the discovery.” 
 
 All the public arrangements for the opening 
 of Parliament went on. Ministers of the 
 crown too could keep a secret. They made 
 not a move that would let men suspect a plot, 
 a grave danger threatening king and nation. 
 But certain phrases in the anonymous letter to 
 Lord Mounteagle set them thinking. A ter- 
 rible blow — should not see who hurts them. 
 Terrible — could it be gunpowder? 
 
 On the third of November James I came up 
 to London from a hunting trip. Cecil showed 
 him the letter. Did they tell him their suspi- 
 cions? Or did the king justly claim after- 
 wards that it was he who guessed the meaning 
 of that warning message ? At any rate orders 
 were given to the Lord Chamberlain to search 
 thoroughly the cellars under Parliament 
 House. 
 
ENGLAND 
 
 287 
 
 Mounteagle and the Earl of Suffolk went to 
 Westminster the next afternoon. Pretending 
 to be searching for some goods of the king’s 
 left in Whynyard’s keeping, they knocked at 
 the cellar entrance. Guy Fawkes opened the 
 door. The Lord Chamberlain glanced in, saw 
 the piles of fagots and asked to whom they be- 
 longed. 
 
 “To Mr. Percy whose servant I am.” 
 
 “Well, your master has laid in a good sup- 
 
 Pty” 
 
 That was all. As soon as the two gentle- 
 men had gone Guy Fawkes set off at once to 
 tell the conspirators they were discovered. 
 But the sanguine Percy would not be alarmed. 
 "When night came he walked round Westmin- 
 ster with his servant to prove to him that all 
 was peaceful. The fuse was laid. Fawkes 
 had only to fire the train and escape as 
 planned. 
 
 But at two in the morning came a party of 
 soldiers commanded by T Sir Thomas Knevett, 
 a magistrate of Westminster. To the silent, 
 dark cellar they made their way. On the stairs 
 they met the tall figure of Fawkes, lantern in 
 hand. 
 
 “Surrender! In the king’s name!” 
 
288 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 Fawkes stared at them. 
 
 “Seize him!” commanded Sir Thomas. 
 “Now search him.” 
 
 In his pockets they found slow matches and 
 pieces of touchwood. 
 
 “Oh,” cried the prisoner, “if you had but 
 taken me inside ! I’d have blown you all up — 
 the house, myself, and all!” 
 
 “Search through the cellars,” ordered Sir 
 Thomas. 
 
 With drawn swords his men cleared away 
 the fagots of wood and found the thirty-six 
 barrels of gunpowder with a fuse ready laid 
 to set them off. 
 
 Bound hand and foot Guy Fawkes was car- 
 ried off to Whitehall and led into the royal 
 bedchamber. There he was questioned by 
 king and ministers. 
 
 “How could you have the heart to destroy 
 so many innocent people?” asked James. 
 
 “Desperate diseases need desperate reme- 
 dies,” was the answer. 
 
 Frankly Fawkes told the details of the gun- 
 powder plot. But tell the names of the con- 
 spirators he would not ; no, not even when they 
 took him to the Tower and day after day by 
 
ENGLAND 289 
 
 the king’s special order, tortured him to make 
 him speak. 
 
 By noon on the fifth of November news of 
 the discovery in the cellar of Parliament 
 House was all over London. Catholics and 
 Protestants were aghast at this plot of a dozen 
 men, which had come so near succeeding. 
 
 When early that morning the conspirators 
 learned of Guy’s arrest they mounted their 
 horses and rode at top speed out of London. 
 Cecil’s order to close the gates came just too 
 late. But contrary to every expectation of the 
 plotters the government found loyal friends 
 on all sides. Watchmen told by what road a 
 group of men had left the city. Villagers 
 along the highways to the west reported a 
 party of horsemen riding so fast that two of 
 them had tossed a-side their cloaks. Soon sol- 
 diers and sheriffs were hot on the trail of the 
 fugitives. 
 
 “Once people know of the plot,” Catesby 
 had said over and over, “Catholics everywhere 
 will rise to aid us. We’ll soon have a big 
 army.” 
 
 At each turn of the road came reinforce- 
 ments not for them, but for their pursuers. 
 
290 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 An ever increasing number of citizens, Catho- 
 lic and Protestant alike, joined the officers of 
 the king. 
 
 Through Warwickshire and Worcestershire 
 rode the conspirators heading for Wales. 
 They knew that they were closely followed, 
 that escape was becoming impossible. At a 
 lonely country house on the border of Stafford- 
 shire they stopped to rest. 
 
 They were wet through in a storm. Their 
 damp powder was put before the fire to dry. 
 A hot coal fell into it and the mass blew up. 
 The men’s faces were scorched and blackened 
 by this explosion. Some of them were badly 
 burned. One was blinded. 
 
 “It is God’s judgment,” they cried, “for the 
 deed we planned!” 
 
 Soon the house was surrounded. The con- 
 spirators refused to surrender. In the desper- 
 ate fight that followed Catesby and three 
 others were slain. The rest were taken 
 prisoner and carried down to London for 
 trial. 
 
 The hall at Westminster was crowded when 
 the case was heard. King and Prince of 
 Wales, lords and bishops and members of the 
 
ENGLAND 291 
 
 House of Commons, all the intended victims 
 of the gunpowder plot were present. 
 
 “Guilty!” was the announcement of the 
 court, heard with shouts of exultation by the 
 crowds of people outside the building. 
 
 Catch the fellows red-handed, the ministers 
 had planned, and make them an example to 
 the populace. Through, the streets of London 
 the eight conspirators were led to execution. 
 From the great crowds came not a word of 
 sympathy, only cries of hatred and scorn. 
 
 Some in St. Paul’s Churchyard and some at 
 Westminster in front of Parliament House, 
 the plotters were hanged and quartered. The 
 bells of London rang and bonfires blazed to 
 show the people’s thanksgiving that the trai- 
 tors had failed in their design. 
 
 Catesby schemed out the gunpowder plot 
 and was the real leader. But his name is 
 scarcely known. Always Guy Fawkes has 
 been considered its most important actor. 
 His lantern is preserved in the library at 
 Oxford. And in the lieutenant’s room at the 
 Tower you can still see a marble slab with an 
 inscription telling of Fawkes’ examination 
 there and of the narrow escape of the rulers of 
 
292 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 England. For all these years it is Guy 
 Fawkes who has been burned in effigy on the 
 fifth of November. And at the opening of 
 each session of Parliament the Yeomen of the 
 Guard march through the vaults in search of 
 gunpowder. 
 
PEWTER PLATES AND HEAPING 
 PLATTERS 
 
 THE LAST THURSDAY IN NOVEMBER 
 
 Thanksgiving ! 
 
 How much the very word says! Thanks- 
 giving — you can feel the frosty air and the 
 cold wind. You can see the bare trees against 
 the gray sky. You can see the logs blazing 
 on the hearth. You can hear the talk of 
 travelers returning home for the day, the gay 
 chatter and laughter of the young folks going 
 to Grandfather’s for this holiday. 
 
 Thanksgiving — guests coming up the walk 
 with cheery greetings. There are the smiling 
 faces of cousins, aunts and uncles, full of grati- 
 tude and love. Thanksgiving — the one word 
 tells it all. 
 
 Thanksgiving Day! Church in the morn- 
 ing, where members of all the different con- 
 gregations meet for a union service. It is 
 the one day of the year when they do this. 
 Fitting it is that they give thanks, most fit- 
 ting that they give thanks together. 
 
 293 
 
294 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 After church comes the great event of the 
 day, the Thanksgiving dinner. Vary as its 
 details may in different years, in different sec- 
 tions of our country, it has always these fun- 
 damentals — turkey, cranberry sauce, and to 
 crown the feast, the golden pumpkin pie. 
 Sniff, sniff! Didn’t you smell them early this 
 morning during the half hour of baking ; smell 
 the spices and the pumpkin and that special 
 odor of flaky piecrust? Didn’t you get the 
 savor of the turkey when with flushed face 
 Grandmother herself opened the oven door to 
 baste it with the rich, brown juice? Turkey 
 and cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie! A 
 full table, not because we want so much to 
 eat, but to symbolize the treasures of the gen- 
 erous earth! But turkey, cranberry sauce, 
 pumpkin pie — it’s a feast for the gods ! a feast 
 for Thanksgiving Day! 
 
 Though this November holiday is peculiarly 
 American, the custom of celebrating the end 
 of the harvest is not new. In England it was 
 a famous holiday as far back as Alfred the 
 Great’s time. And before there was an Eng- 
 land the Romans had a harvest festival in 
 honor of Ceres, a festival as old as the reign 
 of Romulus. And before them the Greek 
 
THANKSGIVING DAY 295 
 
 women of Athens went each November in a 
 gaily bedecked procession to the temple of 
 Demeter to give her thanks for the bountiful 
 harvest with which she had blessed the land. 
 And before Greece the Jewish people had a 
 similar festival at Jerusalem, called the feast 
 of tabernacles. You can read of it in Plu- 
 tarch, in Nehemiah and Judges, and in the 
 still older book of Exodus where Moses gives 
 directions for its observance. 
 
 But these celebrations of the end of harvest 
 lacked something of our American Thanks- 
 giving. A full three centuries old is this holi- 
 day. It was in December of 1621 that Gov- 
 ernor Bradford announced that first day of 
 rejoicing and thanksgiving in the little colony 
 of Plymouth, 
 
 Not quite a year had passed since the May- 
 flower anchored in the harbor of that rocky 
 coast. What a year it had been — a year 
 of hardships in a new land, a year of hunger 
 and cold, of fear and constant sickness! The 
 supply of food grew less and less. At one 
 time all but seven persons in the colony were 
 ill. For the sick there was not the right kind 
 of food. Week by week Pilgrims had died 
 till six and forty graves were dug on the bluff 
 
296 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 overlooking the bay; dug there and left level 
 with the ground around, without any mound 
 of earth, without marking stones, lest the 
 savage red men learn how few the colonists 
 were in numbers. 
 
 But with the spring even the disheartened 
 among the Pilgrims took heart once more. 
 Go back to England, three thousand miles 
 away? Never! Here they could worship 
 God in their own way. Here they were free 
 men. 
 
 With stout hearts, with steadfast faith the 
 fifty colonists began to sow their seed. 
 Twenty acres of corn they put in, six of barley 
 and six of peas. Without ceasing they cared 
 for these fields. They watched the growth of 
 their crops anxiously. Well they knew that 
 their lives depended on a full harvest. 
 
 Spring and summer days flew by. The land 
 was blessed with showers and sunshine. Au- 
 tumn came and dressed the woods in gorgeous 
 colors — gold and crimson and brown. Their 
 crops stood ready for the gathering. They 
 reaped the fruit of their labors and housed it 
 carefully for the winter. 
 
 In December Governor Bradford looked 
 
THANKSGIVING DAY 297 
 
 abroad on the little colony. Seven houses he 
 counted, and four for community use. He 
 gazed over the empty fields — the twenty acres 
 whose golden shocks of corn had stood so close 
 together, yielding a harvest such as old Eng- 
 land never knew; the barley too had been a 
 successful crop ; but the peas had been planted 
 too late and though they came up and bloomed, 
 the hot summer sun withered the vines and 
 parched them in the blossom. 
 
 “Yes,” said the governor to himself, “after 
 the ‘starving time’ we’ve lived through there’s 
 ample food on hand now for all of us. 
 There’s a peck of meal a week for each person, 
 and since the harvest there’s the same amount 
 of Indian corn. We can face the winter and 
 the future with lighter hearts. There’ll be 
 no second ‘starving time’!” 
 
 If a man counted only hardships, Brad- 
 ford’s thought went on, this first year in Ply- 
 mouth had a goodly number. If he counted 
 only blessings there were many, many. How 
 could he best bring this truth home to his 
 people? 
 
 “We have fasted together,” he said in sug- 
 gesting his plan. “Now let us feast together. 
 
298 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 Let us have a special day to give thanks for all 
 the goodness of God. He has remembered 
 us. We will remember Him.” 
 
 The date was set for the thirteenth of the 
 month. 
 
 “Let us invite our friends, the chief Massa- 
 soit and some of his braves,” suggested Elder 
 Brewster. 
 
 A runner went to Mount Hope to take the 
 invitation to the Indians. Four men were 
 sent fowling and such good fortune attended 
 their shooting that in one day they got wild 
 turkeys, partridges and wood pigeons — 
 enough to last the whole colony almost a 
 week. 
 
 As soon as the plan for the feast day was 
 announced the women set to work. Indeed 
 it was a big task for the five of them, with a 
 few young girls to help. There were pump- 
 kin pies to be made and baked; turkeys to be 
 plucked and dressed and stuffed with beech- 
 nuts; fish from the bay to be cleaned and 
 broiled ; barleybread and cornbread to be 
 made; and many another good thing to be 
 prepared. Busy, busy were the women and 
 girls of Plymouth for days beforehand. 
 
 Early in the morning of the thirteenth, 
 
THANKSGIVING DAY 299 
 
 shortly after Captain Standish had fired off 
 the sunrise gun, there came a great shout from 
 the woods. Another shout, a shriek and a 
 wild whoop! Through the trees came a long 
 line of Indians — the chief Massasoit and 
 ninety of his braves. In their best dress they 
 came, with flourish of tomahawks in honor of 
 this feast day of their friends, the pale faces. 
 Some of them had wide bands of black paint 
 on their faces. Some had feathers stuck in 
 their long, straight, black hair. Some wore 
 the furry coat of a wildcat hanging from their 
 shoulders. Some wore deerskins. 
 
 With the governor Captain Standish went 
 to meet them. Were they surprised at the 
 number? Were they dismayed at thought of 
 the food necessary for ninety visitors? 
 Courteously they received their Indian guests. 
 
 Presently the beat of a drum announced 
 morning prayers. Every day began with this 
 brief service. How much more important on 
 this feast day! The red men looked on 
 quietly, listening reverently while the stern, 
 grave Pilgrims prayed to the Great Spirit. 
 
 Then came breakfast — clam chowder with 
 biscuit, hasty pudding served with butter and 
 treacle; for milk they had none in Plymouth. 
 
300 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 At the north end of the little village colonists 
 and visitors assembled. 
 
 “Military exercises under the direction of 
 Captain Miles Standish,” announced the 
 governor. 
 
 The trumpets sounded. From the fort 
 came the roll of drums. Down the hill in 
 soldierly array marched the regiment of Ply- 
 mouth — a regiment of twenty men. Over 
 them floated the flag of England. 
 
 March and countermarch, wheel and turn, 
 right about face — through all the maneuvers 
 Standish put his men that morning. Fre- 
 quently they discharged their muskets. Once 
 in answer there came a great roar from the 
 four cannon of the fort. 
 
 The red men danced, acted out stories and 
 played games with the children. The colo- 
 nists sang their songs. A target was set up 
 and the soldiers fired at it. The Indians 
 standing in closer shot at it with their bows 
 and arrows. There was a friendly contest to 
 see which side would make the larger score. 
 
 Meanwhile Mistress Brewster and Mistress 
 Winslow with the three other women of the 
 colony were hard at work. Remember Aller- 
 ton and Mary Chilton, Priscilla and Desire 
 
THANKSGIVING DAY 301 
 
 and the younger girls helped as they could. 
 Back and forth to the kitchen they went count- 
 less times, bearing pewter plates and heaping 
 platters of good things to eat. At last dinner 
 was announced. 
 
 What a meal that was, served at the long 
 tables under the leafless trees! There were 
 clams and scallops; wild turkey with Priscilla 
 Mullins’ famous dressing of beechnuts ; dump- 
 lings made of barley flour; pigeon pasty; 
 bowls of salad wreathed with autumn leaves; 
 baskets of wild grapes and plums; and the 
 crown of every Thanksgiving dinner, the 
 golden pumpkin pie. 
 
 Did the Indians surmise that their presence 
 made extra work for the women of Plymouth? 
 Did they wish to bring something of their own 
 for the feast? The brother of Massasoit of- 
 fered to lead a hunting party into the woods 
 to look for deer. His braves knew well their 
 favorite haunts. It would not take long. 
 
 “Yes, go,” said Governor Bradford. 
 
 The next morning back came the red men 
 with, five deer. One they roasted whole. 
 The others were cut up into steaks and smaller 
 pieces for venison pie. 
 
 For two days more the feasting went on. 
 
302 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 Between English colonists and fierce Indians 
 there was hearty fellowship and good will. 
 Peace had been established on a firm founda- 
 tion. Without such a peace the Pilgrims 
 would never have won a footing on that bleak 
 coast. Without it Plymouth could never 
 have lived through that first year. It was 
 these friendly savages who told the newcomers 
 how to use shad to fertilize their fields, when 
 to plant corn — “as soon as the oak leaves are 
 as big as a mouse’s ear — ” and where to find 
 wild fruits and berries. Much was owing to 
 the red men. Thrice welcome to the colony’s 
 feast day! 
 
 This is the story of that first Thanksgiving 
 in far-away 1621. Since then in Plymouth, 
 in the Massachusetts colony there have been 
 many such festivals. Sometimes there were 
 two a year, if some special event made the 
 leaders appoint a day of thanks and rejoicing. 
 When hard times came and the outlook was 
 disheartening they skipped a year. But from 
 one generation to another in Yew England 
 Thanksgiving has gone on and on. 
 
 The rest of the country was slow to adopt 
 this beautiful custom. Here and there a 
 governor proclaimed a day of thanksgiving 
 
THANKSGIVING DAY 303 
 
 for his state. But it was not permanent. 
 There was no general celebration. 
 
 Soon after the middle of the nineteenth cen- 
 tury a New England woman went from Bos- 
 ton to Philadelphia, to become editor of the 
 famous magazine called Godey’s Lady’s Book. 
 She was greatly impressed by the fact that in 
 Pennsylvania, and in other states as well, 
 Thanksgiving Day was not observed. To her 
 mind this was a state of affairs to be altered. 
 At once she set to work. 
 
 She wrote to the governor of each state ask- 
 ing him to appoint a day of thanksgiving and 
 suggesting the last Thursday in November. 
 Some governors met her request. Some ig- 
 nored it. The next year she wrote again, and 
 the next and the next. By 1859 Thanksgiv- 
 ing Day was observed in all but two states. 
 
 Then came the civil war. There was no 
 time for a celebration when every one was oc- 
 cupied in work for the soldiers. No one had 
 heart for a festival when hearts were saddened 
 everywhere. But with the coming of peace 
 President Johnson proclaimed a day of 
 thanksgiving for the whole nation, in Novem- 
 ber of 1865. State after state followed. 
 
 Since that year America has kept this holi- 
 
304 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 day, proclaimed anew with each November by 
 governors and president. The reasons for 
 giving thanks in 1621 have remained to this 
 day, with many others added. It is a day 
 when the people recognize all the blessings of 
 God and His goodness to our land, a day to 
 give thanks for bountiful, golden harvests, for 
 peace and prosperity, for the general welfare, 
 a day for prayer and rejoicing. 
 
 Turkey and cranberry sauce and pmnpkin 
 pie! 
 
 What a tantalizing odor when the kitchen 
 door is opened for a moment! 
 
 There are voices from the gate and steps 
 on the frosty path. More guests are coming. 
 For this is Thanksgiving Day! 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OF THE KING 
 
 THE TWENTY-FIFTH OF DECEMBER 
 
 Nearly two thousand years ago when Rome 
 was mistress of the world the emperor Caesar 
 Augustus ordered that every subject in his 
 dominions should pay a tax. Each man 
 must pay this not in the town where he hap- 
 pened to be living, but in the place from which 
 his family had come. All through the great 
 Roman empire people were traveling to their 
 old homes. 
 
 From the land of Galilee a carpenter who 
 lived in Nazareth journeyed south sixty miles 
 and more to a village cailed Bethlehem, the 
 city of David. For this man who was named 
 Joseph and his wife Mary were descendants 
 of the royal family of David, greatest of the 
 Jewish kings. 
 
 Though their ancestor was so important a 
 person Joseph and Mary were not rich. They 
 were poor and humble folk. They found that 
 many others had come to Bethlehem to pay the 
 
 305 
 
306 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 Roman tax. The little village was crowded. 
 The inn had more guests than it could accom- 
 modate. There was no room anywhere. In 
 a stable the couple from Nazareth found shel- 
 ter. Perhaps it was merely a cave hollowed 
 out of the soft chalk rock, such as is found to 
 this day in that land and used for the horses 
 and camels of caravans. 
 
 Some months before an angel had come to 
 Mary to give her a wonderful message — that 
 she was chosen to be the mother of Jesus, the 
 redeemer for whom all the Jews were look- 
 ing, the one who should save the people from 
 their sins. He would be the son of God. He 
 would be also the son of man. He would 
 have the throne of David and of his kingdom 
 there should be no end. Awed by these words, 
 yet very happy too, Mary had bowed her head 
 and said humbly, “I am the handmaid of the 
 Lord.” 
 
 And now it was time for all that the angel 
 had said to come true. There in the city of 
 David a son was born to Mary. She wrapped 
 him in swaddling clothes, the linen bands that 
 eastern mothers wound round and round the 
 body of a little baby. Then she laid him in a 
 manger. 
 
CHRISTMAS 
 
 307 
 
 How bright her eyes must have been as she 
 gazed lovingly upon him and remembered the 
 angel’s message ! Already the promise seemed 
 to be coming true. Here they were, come to 
 pay the Roman tax, in David’s very city. A 
 king to sit on a throne? This baby had no 
 cradle save the manger of cattle. To wear 
 fine clothes embroidered with jewels? This 
 baby had only swaddling bands. To reign 
 forever in a kingdom without end? David 
 had ruled, but his realm had been divided, then 
 conquered. This baby with the glorious fu- 
 ture had no courtiers to rejoice at his birth. 
 
 On the slopes of the hills about Bethlehem 
 were flocks of sheep. Night and day the shep- 
 herds watched them just as long ago in that 
 very place David had watched the sheep of his 
 father. In the night sky came a sudden 
 brightness. Around the men shone a glory 
 that was like the glory of the Lord. An an- 
 gel came down to them. 
 
 “Fear not,” he said seeing how frightened 
 they were, “I bring you good tidings, news of 
 great joy for you and for all the people. This 
 night the Saviour is born in David’s town of 
 Bethlehem. This is how you may know him 
 — he is wrapped in swaddling clothes. And 
 
308 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 here is a second sign — he is lying in a manger.” 
 
 As the dazed shepherds looked and listened 
 many angels joined the one who had brought 
 this joyful message. 
 
 “Glory to God,” the men heard them say, 
 “glory to God and peace on earth and good 
 will to all mankind.” 
 
 At that hour the priests at the temple of 
 Janus in Rome closed the gates of the build- 
 ing, the great gates that always stood open in 
 time of war and were closed at the coming of 
 peace. For the second time in history there 
 was peace throughout the Roman Empire, 
 peace throughout the world for the birthday 
 of this baby. 
 
 The shepherds stared at one another. 
 They looked up at the angels who were dis- 
 appearing from sight. “Glory to God,” 
 sounded the last of their song of praise. The 
 bright light was gone, the glory that had shone 
 around them. 
 
 “Come, come,” one cried, “let’s go to Beth- 
 lehem and see the child who is born there.” 
 
 “Yes,” the others answered, “let us go, go 
 at once.” 
 
 In haste they ran down the slope, with those 
 
CHRISTMAS 
 
 309 
 
 words 6f praise still sounding in their ears, 
 and through the streets of Bethlehem. No 
 use to ask their way, no use to inquire at the 
 crowded inn. They sought out a stable as 
 the angel had directed. And there they 
 found Mary and in the manger the baby Jesus. 
 The shepherds sang a song of praise and glory 
 to God, for what they saw and heard that 
 night. 
 
 Other visitors too came seeking this child, 
 wise men from the east who had seen a 
 strange, new star and followed it, in order to 
 worship the newborn king of the Jews. 
 Across desert lands, over plains and hilly 
 country the star had guided them. But when 
 they neared Jerusalem it disappeared in the 
 fog. They must needs ask their way. 
 
 “Where,” they questioned, “is the king 
 whose star we saw, the king to whom we would 
 pay homage?” 
 
 The chief priests and Jewish scribes quoted 
 from the prophecies which had been made 
 more than seven hundred years before and 
 answered, “In Bethlehem of Judea.” 
 
 As the wise men turned to the south to 
 journey six miles further to the city of David, 
 
310 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 the star again went before them. How they 
 rejoiced! How steadily they gazed at it and 
 followed exactly till it came to rest — not over 
 a palace or a beautiful home, but over a stable ! 
 Could this be the right place? There was the 
 star, their star they called it after all those 
 days of its guidance, standing still now and 
 shining brightly. 
 
 Into the stable went the wise men from the 
 east. They saw Mary and the baby Jesus. 
 They knelt down and worshiped him. Open- 
 ing their treasures they gave him rich presents 
 — frankincense and myrrh and gold. 
 
 Almost two thousand years ago, according 
 to this legend, Joseph and Mary journeyed 
 from Nazareth to Bethlehem and took shelter 
 in a stable. Almost two thousand years ago 
 Christ was born in David’s city as the prophets 
 had foretold. All these years His birthday has 
 has been celebrated. It is the world’s greatest 
 holiday, observed in more countries, dear to 
 more peoples than any other. 
 
 In the account of the birth of Jesus in the 
 Bible there’s not one word or phrase to show 
 what time of year it was. There’s nothing to 
 indicate the month or season even, save that the 
 shepherds were watching their flocks all night ; 
 
CHRISTMAS 311 
 
 and this they did for ten months or more in that 
 eastern land. 
 
 In the early Christian church the celebration 
 of Christ’s birth was held at many different 
 dates — on the sixth of January, near the end 
 of March, in April or May, in September and 
 October, and more than one day in December. 
 About the year 340 the pope fixed upon the 
 twenty-fifth of December and that date has 
 been accepted ever since. 
 
 But December holidays, a time of mirth and 
 gladness and rejoicing for all the people, were 
 known long before the year 340 or the year 1. 
 Like others of our festivals the Christmas 
 celebration was partly adapted from the pa- 
 gans — Romans, Saxons, Scandinavians. It 
 honored the mightiest event in the history of 
 Christendom, but it was overlaid upon heathen 
 festivals. 
 
 Many people kept holidays when the sun 
 reached its southern limit and wheeled back to- 
 ward the north announcing the end of winter. 
 The Greeks had such a festival in honor of 
 their god Bacchus, giving themselves up to 
 songs and dances and revels. The ancient 
 Romans kept this festival in honor of Saturn, 
 feasting for seven days that often ended in 
 
312 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 rioting and disorder. The German tribes 
 kept it and called it the feast of the twelve 
 nights, in honor of the victory of the sungod 
 and the south wind over winter and the storm- 
 god, destroyers of life. 
 
 In the merriment and jollity that mark our 
 holidays at Christmas survive the revels of the 
 Greeks, the Saturnalia, the celebration of the 
 twelve nights. The Christmas candles, the 
 lights we have everywhere, we use because the 
 Romans gave presents of wax candles. The 
 Yule log that is brought in with such ceremony, 
 welcomed with song and sport, burned on our 
 hearths and for good luck a piece kept for next 
 year’s lighting, is a remnant of -the great log 
 which the Scandinavians kindled in honor of 
 their god Thor. Boxing Day in England 
 when poor people go the rounds with a Christ- 
 mas box and ask for money is another survival. 
 The Romans hung up earthen boxes with a 
 hole for slipping in gifts of money for the rural 
 festivals. 
 
 These old pagan celebrations the early 
 church adapted, changing from the birth of the 
 sun to the birth of the Son. This was merely 
 giving them a new name but keeping the 
 heathen date and customs. For more than a 
 
CHRISTMAS 
 
 313 
 
 thousand years Christmas was a religious cele- 
 bration only. Try as it would the church 
 could not make the day popular. Gradually 
 it transferred to the twenty-fifth of December 
 celebrations that had belonged to Martinmas 
 and St. Andrew’s day in November, to the 
 festival of St. Nicholas on December sixth, and 
 to the feast of the wise men in January. Com- 
 bining all these with Christmas, little by little 
 the day became popular. It became the great 
 festival of the year for children and the 
 best time in all the calendar for the giving of 
 gifts. 
 
 Who was St. Nicholas that a change in his 
 festival should change Christmas? Not much 
 is known of him. He lived in Asia Minor in 
 the fourth century. Though he was the son of 
 rich parents he would not accept their wealth 
 for himself, but used it for the poor. He was 
 still a young man when he was elected bishop. 
 Old pictures show him dressed in embroidered 
 red robes lined with soft, white fur, with cross 
 and jewelled mitre and staff. 
 
 In many countries he is the special saint of 
 schoolboys. No other saint had so many 
 churches, chapels, altars dedicated to him as 
 had Nicholas. Before the Reformation there 
 
314 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 were three hundred and seventy-six churches 
 in England named for him. Many boys were 
 christened after him. The name was as com- 
 mon as Mary among girls. What is your 
 name? asked the catechism. N or M, was the 
 answer printed, these initials chosen because 
 Nicholas and Mary were the commonest 
 names in England. 
 
 The reason for this is told in the legend of 
 three schoolboys who were murdered by a 
 treacherous innkeeper. Their bodies he cut 
 up and salted away in a pickling tub. Nich- 
 olas made the sign of the cross over the cask 
 and behold ! the three hoys arose alive and well. 
 The good saint gave them back to their mother. 
 The wicked landlord was stoned to death. 
 
 Nor was Nicholas the patron saint of boys 
 exclusively. In his parish was a nobleman 
 who had three daughters. Once he had been 
 rich. He lost his wealth and was so poor that 
 he could not give them any dowry — the sum of 
 money a bride brought from her parents, with 
 which the young couple could start housekeep- 
 ing. The father feared he must send his 
 daughters out as servants, but sorrow made 
 him put off telling them. 
 
 At last the story came to the ears of the good 
 
CHRISTMAS 
 
 315 
 
 bishop. A shame, thought he, that this should 
 happen in a Christian country! One night 
 when the daughters slept and their father 
 watched and wept, Nicholas took a handful of 
 gold and tied it up in a silken purse. How 
 could he give it without making himself 
 known? While he stood hesitating the moon 
 shone out from a bank of clouds and showed 
 him an open window. In through the case- 
 ment he tossed the gold. At the father’s feet 
 it fell. Thus the first daughter had her dowry 
 and could marry the man she loved. 
 
 Soon after this Nicholas tossed another 
 purse of gold pieces in at the poor nobleman’s 
 window. The second daughter was provided 
 for. The father’s curiosity was aroused. 
 Who had come to his aid so generously? He 
 wanted to thank his unknown helper. He de- 
 termined to keep watch every night. 
 
 For the third time the good bishop went to 
 the noble’s house. Just as he was lifting his 
 arm the father seized the skirt of his robe cry- 
 ing, “Oh sir, flee not away that I may see and 
 know thee!” Then flinging himself at the 
 bishop’s feet he cried out, “Oh Nicholas, thou 
 servant of God, is it thou? Why seek to hide 
 thyself?” 
 
316 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 “Promise that you tell no man what has oc- 
 curred,” was the saint’s answer. 
 
 Artists often used to represent Nicholas 
 with three golden balls, the three purses of 
 gold he threw in at the window. Some Italian 
 bankers who had chosen Nicholas as their pa- 
 tron saint were the first to lend money on 
 pledges. Their three golden balls became the 
 sign of the pawnbroker. 
 
 Thus St. Nicholas came to be associated 
 with the giving of presents as were the three 
 wise men from the east. And though in Italy 
 the sixth of January is the time for gifts, and 
 in France New Year’s day and in Belgium 
 St. Nicholas’s day, most of the world sends 
 its presents for the twenty-fifth of December. 
 
 Thor and Bacchus and Saturn, the bishop 
 Nicholas and the wise men from the east have 
 all contributed to our Christmas celebration. 
 Many of our customs were not ours originally, 
 but are frankly borrowed from other lands. 
 So long is the list of these borrowings, could 
 one tell them all, that it shows as perhaps no 
 other holiday does how truly are we a com- 
 posite nation made up from the whole world. 
 
 Our greeting of “Merry Christmas” comes 
 from medieval England. The evergreens and 
 
CHRISTMAS 
 
 317 
 
 mistletoe which deck houses and churches for 
 the holidays date back to the time of the 
 Druids. In solemn procession the priests 
 went to cut the mistletoe, clad in white robes 
 and carrying golden sickles. It was supposed 
 to keep away witches and people paid the 
 Druids large sums for a piece to have as a 
 charm. Other greens they used in their houses 
 to shelter the kind woodland spirits who found 
 their favorite haunts bare in the winter. 
 
 The glossy branches of holly were used, says 
 an old legend of the Danes, for the crown of 
 thorns with which the Roman soldiers mocked 
 the Saviour, and its bright red berries are the 
 drops of blood that fell from ITis brow. The 
 apples that every household has in abundance 
 at Christmas time are what is left of the old 
 myth of Iduna, the Norse goddess of youth and 
 health, who gave them to the gods to keep them 
 ever young. The gilded nuts and balls are a 
 symbol of the sun. 
 
 Our Christmas carols date far, far back to 
 the song of the angels that first Christmas Eve. 
 The use of greeting cards, a custom so popular 
 of late years, is rather modern. It began in 
 England in 1846 when Sir Henry Cole sent 
 the first ones to his friends. They were the 
 
318 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 size of small visiting cards with a spray of hoi- 
 ly or mistletoe and the compliments of the day. 
 As an experiment a printer published a thous- 
 and cards and — sold them all ! 
 
 From Belgium we borrowed the Christmas 
 stocking, at least the germ of the idea. The 
 children there put their shoes — wooden shoes, 
 china shoes sold in the shops for this special 
 purpose, or everyday leather boots polished 
 extra well — close to the hearth. In them they 
 put oats, carrots, or potato peelings, a feast 
 for the white horse of St. Nicholas. 
 
 In the morning they find that a strange 
 thing has happened. All the furniture is 
 topsy-turvy. The food in the shoes is gone. 
 In its place are sweetmeats and little gifts for 
 good boys and girls, bits of coal and birch rods 
 for the naughty ones. On his way to America 
 St. Nicholas changed his white horse for a 
 team of reindeer, and the shoe custom was 
 altered to stockings. 
 
 Not one day do we have at Christmas, but a 
 full week of vacation and merrymaking. 
 “The holy days” the early church called them, 
 for each day of the fortnight had a special ser- 
 vice — Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, St. 
 Stephen’s, St. John’s, and so on to Epiphany, 
 
CHRISTMAS 
 
 319 
 
 the feast of the wise men. Greeks and 
 Romans and Scandinavians celebrated for a 
 week or more. We still follow the old me- 
 dieval custom of watching the old year out and 
 welcoming the new year with the ringing of 
 bells. But New Year’s, the turning of a fresh 
 page in the book of life, is by no means a new 
 celebration. It dates back to 3000 B. C. at 
 Babylon. 
 
 All our holiday customs, you see, are bor- 
 rowed, even the Christmas tree. That comes 
 from Germany if indeed it doesn’t come from 
 very much farther back, from the sacred ash 
 tree which the Scandinavians thought grew at 
 the roots of the world. 
 
 There’s an old legend that we owe the Christ- 
 mas tree to Martin Luther who was once jour- 
 neying homeward on the twenty-fourth of De- 
 cember through a snow-covered country under 
 a glittering starlit sky. He was entranced by 
 the glorious mystery of the stars. He tried to 
 explain to his wife and children how beautiful 
 a sight it was. He went out into the garden, 
 cut down a little fir tree, dragged it into the 
 nursery and put some candles into its branches. 
 He lighted them and behold! the first Christ- 
 mas tree! Each year Luther dressed such a 
 
320 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 tree for his children to enjoy. His neighbors 
 borrowed the idea and little by little it spread 
 over all Germany. 
 
 It was the marriage of Queen Victoria to a 
 German prince that took the Christmas tree to 
 England. When their oldest child, the Prin- 
 cess Victoria, was five years old her father set 
 up a tree on Christmas Eve, German fashion, 
 in the nursery at Windsor Castle. It was 
 about eight feet high with the figure of an an- 
 gel with outstretched wings at its top. It had 
 dozens of wax tapers and candies of all kinds, 
 gilt gingerbread, fancy cakes, toys and dolls. 
 This set the style in Great Britain. The next 
 year a Christmas tree blazed and twinkled in 
 every household. 
 
 The tree came to America however before it 
 went into England. German settlers brought 
 the custom with them. Christmas trees were 
 lighted and enjoyed wherever there was a little 
 group from Hamburg or Berlin. New 
 Englanders were slow to take up such a 
 practise. Their ancestors had protested earn- 
 estly, bitterly against such celebrations. So 
 fierce an assault on Christmas they made that 
 during the Commonwealth the day was driven 
 from the land by act of Parliament. Indeed 
 
CHRISTMAS 
 
 321 
 
 for more than twenty years it was against the 
 law to celebrate Christmas in Massachusetts. 
 
 The day is named for the Christ-child, His 
 mass. We celebrate to remember His birth- 
 day and honor Him. Why then do we have 
 Santa Claus and from what country does he 
 come? 
 
 From Holland and our Dutch friends whose 
 patron saint is Nicholas. See how the name 
 came to be: St. Nicholas, St. Nicholaus, 
 
 Niclaes, San Claus — there you are, Santa 
 Claus ! Long has America been his home, for 
 he came to New York, New Amsterdam it was 
 called then, with the earliest of the Dutch set- 
 tlers. The ship which carried them to the new 
 world bore a figurehead of St. Niclaes. Their 
 first church was named for Nicholas and he 
 was the patron saint of the new town on Man- 
 hattan island. 
 
 Romans, Teutons, wise men from the east 
 and humble shepherds, French and Belgians, 
 Greeks and Dutch, men of every land have 
 helped build up our Christmas customs. In 
 return we must make our celebration all-inclu- 
 sive, a season of the year when every one shares 
 in the fun and jollity, in the greens and 
 gifts, in the true holiday spirit. With bright 
 
322 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 red ribbons and holly, with dolls and soldiers 
 and tin horns, with apples and golden oranges, 
 it’s easy to keep Christmas. But you can’t 
 keep it alone. It is only kept by being shared. 
 
READING LIST 
 
 If you are interested in these holidays and their 
 heroes and want to learn more about them, read — 
 
 Robert E. Lee 
 
 Barnes: Son of Light Horse Harry 
 
 Bradford: Lee the American (by a northerner) 
 
 Faris : Makers of Our History, chapter 16 
 
 Hill : On the Trail of Grant and Lee 
 
 Lee: Recollections and Letters of General Robert 
 
 E. Lee (by his son) 
 
 Page: Robert E. Lee, the Southerner (by a 
 
 Virginian) 
 
 The Feast of Lanterns 
 
 Doolittle: Social Life of the Chinese, II, 34-38 
 
 Giles: Chinese Sketches, 108-111 
 
 Gray: China, chapter 11 
 
 Headland: Home Life in China, chapter 14 
 
 Miller: Little People of Asia, 323-325 
 
 Van Bergen: Story of China, part II, chapter 10 
 
 323 
 
324 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 Abraham Lincoln 
 
 Bolton: Poor Boys Who Became Famous, 342-367 
 
 Browne : Every-day Life of Lincoln 
 
 Lodge and Roosevelt: Hero Tales from American 
 
 History, 323—335 
 
 Sparks: Men Who Made the Nation, chapter 12 
 
 Tarbell: Boy Scouts’ Life of Lincoln 
 
 Whitlock: Life of Abraham Lincoln 
 
 St. Valentine 
 
 Brand: Popular Antiquities of Great Britain, I, 
 
 53-62 
 
 Chambers : Book of Days, Feb. 14 
 
 Denton: Holiday Facts and Fancies, chapter 3 
 
 Hone: Every-day Book, I, 215-231 
 
 Patten: Year’s Festivals, chapter 3 
 
 Urlin: Festivals, Holy Days and Saints’ Days, 
 
 34-37 
 
 George Washington 
 
 Baldwin: Four Great Americans, 9-68 
 
 Brooks: True Story of George Washington 
 
 Dana: Makers of America, chapter 2 
 
 Gordy : American Leaders and Heroes, chapters 
 
 10, 16 
 
 Hapgood: George Washington 
 
 Irving and Fiske: Washington and His Country 
 
READING LIST 
 
 325 
 
 Japanese Festivals 
 
 Ayrton: Child Life in Japan, 64-67 
 
 Bacon: Japanese Girls and Women, 28-31, 362- 
 
 364 
 
 Blaisdell-Dalrymple: Ume San in Japan 
 
 Fraser: Letters from Japan, I, 297-304, II, 235- 
 
 252 
 
 Huntingdon : Asia, a Geography Reader, chapter 
 
 18 
 
 Kelman : Children of Japan, chapter 13 
 
 St. Patrick 
 
 Chenoweth: Stoi’ies of the Saints, chapter 4 
 
 Flood: Ireland, its Saints and Scholars, chapter 2 
 
 Joyce: Wonders of Ireland, 5-17, 136—152 
 
 Mannix : Patron Saints, III, chapter 2 
 
 St. Patrick, Apostle of Ireland 
 Steedman: Our Island Saints, chapter 4 
 
 Lexington Day 
 
 Bacon: Historic Pilgrimages in New England, 
 
 332-399 
 
 Brooks : Century Book of the American Revo- 
 
 lution, 17—54 
 
 Coffin: Boys of ’76, chapter 1 
 
 Moses: Paul Revere, the Torch Bearer of the 
 
 Revolution 
 
326 THE WORLD S HOLIDAYS 
 
 Powell : Historic Towns of New England, 243-297 
 
 Tiffany: From Colony to Commonwealth, 91-114 
 
 Poland’s Constitution 
 
 Bain: Last King of Poland, chapters 10-12 
 
 Harley: Poland Past and Present, book I, 
 
 chapters 5, 6 
 
 Lord: Second Partition of Poland, 192-208 
 
 Orvis : Brief History of Poland, chapter 5 
 
 Phillips: Poland, 66-88 
 
 Whitton: History of Poland, chapter 9 
 
 Memorial Day 
 
 Gregg: Makers of the American Republic, 465- 
 
 495 
 
 McSpadden: Book of Holidays, 159-170 
 
 Murphy: Flash Lights on American History, 151- 
 
 158 
 
 New England Magazine, new series 32: 467 (1905) : 
 Origin of Memorial Day 
 Schauffler : Memorial Day 
 
 Walsh: Curiosities of Popular Customs, 326-328 
 
 Declaration of Independence 
 
 Elson : Side Lights on American History, I, 
 
 chapter 1 
 
READING LIST 327 
 
 Harper’s Monthly 85: 165 (1892): How the Dec- 
 
 laration was Received in the Old Thirteen 
 Higginson : Young Folks’ History of the United 
 
 States, chapter 20 
 
 Lodge : Story of the Revolution, chapter 7 
 
 Merwin: Thomas Jefferson, chapter 4 
 
 Morse: Thomas Jefferson, 23-35 
 
 Jan Htjs 
 
 Hodges : Saints and Heroes to the End of the 
 
 Middle Ages, 248-257 
 
 Kryshanovskaya : Torch-bearers of Bohemia 
 
 Lutzow: Bohemia, an Historical Sketch, 91-107 
 
 Maurice: Bohemia, 175-220 
 
 Monroe : Bohemia and the Cechs, chapter 4 
 
 Schwarze: John Hus, the Martyr of Bohemia 
 
 Bastille Day 
 
 Carlyle: French Revolution, book V, chapters 4-7 
 
 Farmer: History of the French Revolution, 149- 
 
 170 
 
 Kirkland: Short History of France, chapter 29 
 
 Marshall: History of France, chapter 78 
 
 Morris: Historical Tales — French, 269-274 
 
 Price: Stories from French History, chapters 20- 
 
 24 
 
328 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 Simon Bolivab 
 
 Couch: Roll Call of Honour, chapter 1 
 
 Dawson: South American Republics, II 
 
 Johnston: World Patriots, chapter 2 
 
 Olcott: Good Stories for Great Birthdays, 352- 
 
 392 
 
 Sanderson: Hero Patriots of the Nineteenth 
 
 Century, chapter 4 
 Sherwell: Simon Bolivar 
 
 The Star-spangled Banner 
 
 Columbia Historical Society 22:207 (1919): Dr. 
 William Beanes 
 
 Key-Smith: Francis Scott Key 
 
 Marine: British Invasion of Maryland, 166-169, 
 
 182-190 
 
 Patriotism and the Flag, chapter 4 
 
 Pickett: Literary Hearthstones of Dixie, 175-198 
 
 Scharf: History of Maryland, III, 116-122 
 
 United Italy 
 
 Bayley : Making of Modern Italy 
 
 Birkhead : Heroes of Modern Europe, chapters 16, 
 
 17 
 
 Garibaldi : Autobiography 
 
READING LIST 
 
 329 
 
 Sedgwick: Short History of Italy, chapters 37—38 
 
 Standing: Guerilla Leaders of the World, chap- 
 
 ter 9 
 
 Trevelyan: Short History of the Italian People, 
 
 chapters 27-30 
 
 Christopher, Columbus 
 
 Bolton: Famous Voyagers and Explorers, chapter 1 
 
 Johnson: World’s Discoverers, chapters 3—7 
 
 Lennes and Phillips : Story of Columbus 
 
 McMurry: Pioneers on Land and Sea, chapter 7 
 
 Moores : Story of Christopher Columbus 
 
 Seelye: Story of Columbus 
 
 The Gunpowder Plot 
 Ainsworth : Guy Fawkes 
 
 Brooke-Hunt : Prisoners of the Tower of London, 
 
 253-263 
 
 Creighton: Stories from English History, chapter 
 
 37 
 
 Dickens : Child’s History of England, chapter 32 
 
 Gardiner: What the Gunpowder Plot Was 
 
 Marshall: An Island Story, chapter 74 
 
 Thanksgiving 
 
 Carver: Sketches of New England, chapter 2 
 
330 THE WORLD’S HOLIDAYS 
 
 Earle: Customs and Fashions in Old New England, 
 
 chapter 9 
 
 Love: Fast and Thanksgiving Days of New Eng- 
 
 land, chapters 5, 27 
 
 Magazine of American History 8:757 (1882): 
 Origin of Thanksgiving Day 
 Magazine of American History 14:556 (1885): 
 Thanksgiving Day, Past and Present 
 Tittle: Colonial Holidays 52—73 
 
 Wiggin and Smith: Story Hour, 107-114 
 
 Christmas 
 
 Hodges: When the King Came, 1-39 
 Jameson: Sacred and Legendary Art, II, 450—465 
 
 McKnight : St. Nicholas 
 
 Pringle and Urann: Yule-Tide in Many Lands 
 
 Walsh: Story of Santa Klaus 
 
 Warren: Holidays, chapters 1-8 
 
REFERENCE INDEX 
 
 Adams, John, 68, 159, 160, 
 162, 164, 167, 173. 
 
 Adams, Samuel, 116-7, 121-2, 
 125, 128, 155. 
 
 Armistead, Col. George, 228-9, 
 231-2. 
 
 Baltimore, defense of, 224, 
 226-8, 233-4. 
 
 Bastille, built for fortress, 
 196-8; used as royal prison, 
 198-9; symbol of oppres- 
 sion, 199; besieged by 
 Parisian mob, 199-201 ; 
 safety promised garrison, 
 201-2; taken by mob, 202; 
 prisoners found in, 203; de- 
 stroyed, 203-4; only its out- 
 line remains, 205-6. 
 
 Beanes, Dr. William, 222-8, 
 230. 
 
 Bethlehem, 305-10. 
 
 Bethlehem chapel, 176-9. 
 
 Bohemian holiday, 174-192. 
 
 Bolivar, Simon, 79 ; heir to 
 vast estates in Venezuela, 
 208; wins from crown 
 prince of Spain at tennis, 
 209; devotes himself to lib- 
 erty of Venezuela, 209-10; 
 joins patriot group, 210-1; 
 enters Caracas in triumph, 
 211-2, 217-8; to Jamaica and 
 Haiti, 212-3; frees slaves. 
 
 213; crosses Andes and de- 
 feats Spanish army, 213-7; 
 president of Colombia, 218; 
 frees Ecuador, Peru, Bo- 
 livia, 218-9; dreams for 
 South America, 219-20; dies 
 penniless, 220; honors in 
 South America, 221. 
 
 Bolivia, 218-9, 221. 
 
 Boxing Day (England), 312. 
 
 Braddock, General, 62-4. 
 
 Bradford, Governor, 295-301. 
 
 Brown, John, 9. 
 
 Catesby, Robert, 278-83, 289- 
 91. 
 
 Cavour, Count, 241-2, 248, 
 253. 
 
 Christmas, the first, 305-10; 
 birth of Christ, 305-7; visit 
 of shepherds, 307-9, and 
 wise men, 309-10, 316, 318- 
 9; candles, 312; cards, 317- 
 8; carols, 317; fruit, 317; 
 •greens, 316-7 ; stockings, 
 318; tree, 319-20; the name 
 Christmas, 321. 
 
 Colombia, 211, 214-21. 
 
 Columbus, Christopher, boy- 
 hood in Genoa, 256-7; plans 
 voyage west to reach the 
 east, 258; needs ships and 
 money, 258 ; appeals to 
 Genoa and Portugal, 259, to 
 
 331 
 
332 
 
 REFERENCE INDEX 
 
 Spain, 259-63; eight years 
 of delay, 260; at convent of 
 LaRabida, 260-1 ; Spain re- 
 fuses help, 262; starts to 
 France, 262; queen decides 
 to help him, 262-3; ships 
 and sailors secured, 263; 
 start from Palos, 263-4; 
 difficulties of voyage, 264-6; 
 land sighted, 266-7 ; land- 
 ing, 254-5; stormy voyage 
 back to Spain, 268-9; at 
 court, 269-70; three more 
 voyages, 271; returns to 
 Spain in chains, 272; dies 
 neglected, 272; honored in 
 three continents, 273. 
 
 Concord, 114, 117, 119, 120, 
 122-4, 128-31, 133, 155. 
 
 Confederate States of Amer- 
 ica, 2, 3, 42-3. 
 
 Constance, council of, 174, 
 181-9. 
 
 Continental Congress, 67-8, 75, 
 
 157- 63, 168-9, 172. 
 
 Cornwallis, Lord, 72-5. 
 
 Dawes, William, 119-20, 122-4, 
 128, 133. 
 
 Declaration of Independence, 
 growing sentiment in favor 
 of, 155-8; Lee’s resolution, 
 
 158- 60, 162-4 ; committee 
 
 chosen to prepare, 160, Jef- 
 ferson to write, 160-2; de- 
 bate on, 164-7; adopted by 
 Congress, 167-8; read to 
 public in Philadelphia, 154, 
 169-70, to army, 171; signed 
 by members of Congress, 
 172 . 
 
 DeLaunay, governor of Bas- 
 tille,^ 198-9, 201-2, 206. 
 
 Douglas, Stephen A., 38-40, 
 42. 
 
 Ecuador, 218-9, 221. 
 
 Fawkes, Guy, soldier of for- 
 tune, enlisted by Catesby, 
 280; learns about coal cel- 
 lars, 281, about postponed 
 meeting of Parliament, 282; 
 questioned about fagots in 
 cellar, 287 ; arrested, 287- 
 8; taken before king, 288; 
 tortured in Tower of Lon- 
 don, 288-9; death, 291; day 
 celebrated, 274-7. 
 
 Feast of dolls, 80-8; of flags, 
 89-97; of lanterns, 22-31. 
 
 Ferdinand, king of Spain, 262- 
 3, 270, 272. 
 
 Franklin, Benjamin, 160, 162, 
 166-8. 
 
 Garibaldi, Giuseppi, 237-8, 
 241; bred a sailor, 242; sees 
 Rome, 242-3; dreams of 
 Rome as capital of Italy, 
 243; joins “Young Italy,” 
 243; captured, escapes, 243; 
 guerrilla warfare in South 
 America, 243-4; returns to 
 Italy, 245-6; in command at 
 Rome, 246; opposes sur- 
 render of city, 246-7 ; in 
 New York, 248; leads vol- 
 unteers of 1859, 248; with 
 the “Thousand” to Sicily, 
 249-50 ; meets Victor Em- 
 manuel, 250-1 ; refusing 
 
REFERENCE INDEX 
 
 333 
 
 honors returns to island, 
 251-2; enters Rome with 
 king, 253; statute saluted, 
 236, 253. 
 
 Gettysburg, 11-3, 15, 50. 
 
 Grant, U. S., 14-7, 46-9. 
 
 Gunpowder plot, 277-92. 
 
 Hancock, John, 68, 115-7, 121- 
 
 2, 125, 155, 168, 172. 
 
 Henry, Patrick, 66, 156. 
 
 Holidays, 311-2, 318-9. 
 
 Hus, Jan, at university of 
 Prague, 175-6; preacher at 
 Bethlehem chapel, 176; ene- 
 mies and friends, 176-7; 
 protests against calling 
 Wycliffe’s writings heresy, 
 178, against sale of indul- 
 gences, 179; excommuni- 
 cated, 179-80; voluntary ex- 
 ile, 180; writes in Bohemian 
 language, 180-1 ; summoned 
 to council at Constance, 
 181 ; given safe-conduct, 
 181; arrested, 182-3; in 
 prison, 183-4; trial, 185-6; 
 urged to recant, 186-7 ; sen- 
 tenced, 187-9; procession to 
 Briihl, 189-90; death, 190- 
 1; war in Bohemia to 
 avenge his death, 191. 
 
 Independence day, 154-73. 
 
 Isabella, queen of Spain, 260- 
 
 3, 270. 
 
 James I of England, 277-8, 
 282, 286, 288. 
 
 Jefferson, Thomas, 156, 160-2, 
 166-7. 
 
 Key, Francis Scott, goes to 
 intercede for Dr. Beanes, 
 222-4; secures his release, 
 225 ; not allowed return 
 home, 225-6; watches Brit- 
 ish land, 227 ; sees attack 
 on Ft. McHenry, 228-9; flag 
 flying over fort, 229-30; 
 anxious night, 230-2; sees 
 flag in morning, 232-3; 
 writes poem, 233; its great 
 popularity, 234. 
 
 Lafayette, 74, 79. 
 
 Laoghaire, king in Irelard, 
 105-8. 
 
 LaRahida, convent in Spain, 
 260-1, 263. 
 
 Lee, Light Horse Harry, 79. 
 
 Lee, Richard Henry, 158, 160, 
 165, 173. 
 
 Lee, Robert E., 45, 47; in 
 Mexican war, 5, 9; captures 
 John Brown, 9; sides with 
 Virginia, 4-6; not fighting 
 for slavery, 6-8; adviser to 
 Davis, 8; commander of 
 confederate anny, 8-11 ; 
 skill in attack, 10-1, in de- 
 fense, 13; battle of Gettys- 
 burg, 11-3; handicaps, 14- 
 6; surrender to Grant, 16- 
 7; president of Washington 
 college, 18-9; name not for 
 sale, 18; man without a 
 country, 20. 
 
 Lexington, 114, 117, 119-28, 
 133, 155. 
 
 Lincoln, Abraham, 4-7, 19, 21, 
 213; education, 33-6; posi- 
 tions held, 35-6; first sight 
 
334 
 
 REFERENCE INDEX 
 
 of slavery, 36; country 
 lawyer, 37 ; opposes Doug- 
 las, 38-42; leader of Re- 
 publicans, 39-41 ; Cooper 
 Union speech, 40-1; elected 
 president, 42, 48-9; civil 
 war, 43-9; his cabinet, 43- 
 4, geneials, 45-6, great bur- 
 den, 46-7, enemies, 47-8; 
 “Father Abraham,” 48-9; 
 death, 50; place in history, 
 50-1. 
 
 Logan, Gen. John A., orders 
 observance of Memorial 
 day, 151. 
 
 Louis XVI, 196, 204. 
 
 McHenry, Fort, 227-32, 235. 
 
 Marie Antoinette, 195, 204. 
 
 Mary, mother of Christ, 305-7. 
 
 Mazzini, 240-3, 253. 
 
 Memorial day, first observed 
 in Columbus, Miss., 147- 
 50; story in northern pa- 
 pers, 151; G. A. R. adopts 
 custom of decorating graves 
 of civil war soldiers, 151-2, 
 and soldiers of later wars, 
 153. 
 
 Minden, cartel ship, 224, 226- 
 8, 230-3. 
 
 Minute-men, 115, 121, 124*- 
 33. 
 
 Mounleagle, Lord, 284-7. 
 
 Mount Vernon, 60, 65-7, 76. 
 
 Peru, 218-9, 221. 
 
 Poland, constitution of, 134- 
 46; partitions of, 135, 142- 
 3. 
 
 Polo, Marco, 93, 258, 267. 
 
 Revere, Paul, organizes patrol 
 in Boston, 116; first warn- 
 ing ride to Lexington, 117; 
 arranges for signal lan- 
 terns, 118; other rides for 
 Sons of Liberty, 119; in- 
 structions from Dr. War- 
 ren, 119-20; crosses to 
 Charlestown, 120; meets 
 British officers, 120-1; at 
 Lexington, 121-2; captured 
 half way to Concord, 123- 
 4; returns to Boston, 125; 
 ride repeated in modern 
 times, 113-4, 133. 
 
 St. Nicholas, 313-6, 318, 321. 
 
 St. Patrick, childhood, 98-9; 
 captured by pirates, sold as 
 slave, 99-100; swineherd, 
 100-1; returns home, 101-3; 
 dreams of Ireland, 103; 
 years of study, 104; to Ire- 
 land, 104-5; festival at 
 Tara, 105-8; journeys over 
 Ireland, 108-9; rids country 
 of snakes, 109-10; builds 
 churches and schools, 110; 
 death, 111. 
 
 St. Valentine, 52-4. 
 
 Santa Claus, 321. 
 
 Sigismund, emperor of Ger- 
 many, 181-4, 187-9. 
 
 Skinner, Col. John, 222, 224- 
 8, 230, 232. 
 
 Sons of Liberty, 115-8. 
 
 Standish, Capt. Miles, 299- 
 300. 
 
 Stanislas, last king of Poland, 
 opens Diet, 135; submits 
 new constitution, 136-8; its 
 
REFERENCE INDEX 
 
 385 
 
 sweeping changes, 137-8 ; 
 swears to defend constitu- 
 tion, 138-40 ; congratula- 
 tions, 140-1 ; appeals for 
 help, 142. 
 
 “Star-spangled Banner,” 222- 
 35. 
 
 Sumter, Fort, 3, 43. 
 
 Thanksgiving, celebrated in 
 England, Rome, Greece, 
 Jerusalem, 294-5; first cele- 
 bration in America, 295- 
 302; Indian guests, 298-9; 
 preparations, 298; dinner, 
 301; a New England holi- 
 day, 302; taken up by other 
 states, 303; since 1865 cele- 
 brated by whole country, 
 303-4. 
 
 Venezuela, 207-14, 217-21. 
 
 Versailles, 193-6, 202-4. 
 
 Victor Emmanuel, 237-42, 249- 
 53. 
 
 Warren, Dr. Joseph, 115, 117, 
 119-20, 125, 132-3. 
 
 Washington, George, 10, 13, 
 35, 171, 208; at school, 57; 
 appointed midshipman, 58 ; 
 surveyor, 59-60; takes mes- 
 sage to French in Ohio 
 country, 60-2; on Brad- 
 dock’s staff, 62-4; com- 
 mands forces of Virginia, 
 64; marriage, 64-5; busy 
 life at Mt. Vernon, 65-6; 
 to two Congresses at Phila- 
 delphia, 67; commander-in- 
 chief of American army, 
 68-9; makes army, 70; suc- 
 cess at Boston, 70-1, Tren- 
 ton, 71-2, Princeton, 72-3, 
 Yorktown, 73-5; defeats, 75; 
 appeals to officers, 75-6; re- 
 fuses to be king, 76; presi- 
 dent of constitutional con- 
 vention, 77; president of U. 
 S., 77-8; lays foundation of 
 new government, 78-9. 
 
 Yorktown, 73-5. 
 
 “Young Italy,” 240, 243. 
 
 Yule log, 312. 
 
 THE END 
 

 

 
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