Hero stories of France

Contents

I. Vercingetorix, the Hero Patriot i

II. Saint Denis, the Missionary ii

III. The Coming of Attila the Hun 15

Chapter I

Two thousand years ago no one had ever heard the word "France," for the country that we call by that name was then known as "Gaul." It was larger than the France of to-day, for it extended to the Alps and the Rhine River.

On the sunny plains and in the pleasant valleys there were many little villages, mere groups of round huts made of poles bound together at the top, and probably plastered with clay to keep out the wind and cold. On the hills, however, there were often towns with streets of houses framed of stout timbers. There were workshops, too, and in these the Gauls made pottery, different sorts of weapons, and beautifully enameled jewelry.

The Gauls wore tunics of bright-colored plaids and, what seemed queerest to the Romans, they also wore trousers instead of the loosely draped robes or togas of Rome. The Romans actually spoke of the part of Gaul nearest to their own country as "the province that wears trousers." They were an enterprising people, these Gauls. They built roads from town to town, they laid bridges across the rivers, their heavily laden barges floated down the streams, and the largest vessels on the Mediterranean Sea belonged to Gallic owners. They had valuable mines, and they knew how to work them. They knew a good horse when they saw one, and whenever there was a well-bred steed for sale, there was always a Gaul ready to pay a high price for him.

Many different tribes lived in Gaul, and often there was warfare among them. Then the warriors put on their chain armor, their golden rings and armlets, and their helmets, each made in the shape of the head of some wild beast. They seized their pikes and swords and shields, mounted their prancing horses, and galloped off to battle, great plumes nodding over their helmets as they dashed onward.

In Italy, southeast of Gaul, lived the Romans, the most powerful nation of the age. They ruled nearly all the countries bordering on the Mediterranean Sea. Their capital city was Rome, and there, as in many more of their cities, they had handsome buildings, statues, gardens, robes of silk and the finest wool, jeweled cups, and all sorts of luxuries. Powerful as they were, the Romans felt uneasy when they thought of their Gallic neighbors. Three hundred years earlier, the Gauls had dashed down upon them and had burned their capital. The invaders had finally been driven away, but there was no knowing when they might come again. The Romans already controlled part of Gaul — including the province that wore trousers — and if they could only rule the whole country, they would sleep better nights.

In 58 b. c. the Romans were feeling especially uneasy, because the Germans, who lived on the shores of the Baltic and the North Seas, were breaking into Gaul, killing and destroying wherever they went. If they should succeed in overrunning this country, they would next attack Rome. Just at this time a tribe living in Switzerland decided to cross Gaul and settle near the Atlantic coast. The Gauls begged the Romans to prevent this. It was an excellent opportunity for the Romans, and Julius Caesar was sent to Gaul with an army.

Caesar soon obliged the Swiss to return to their old homes; and then he set out to make it clear to the Germans that they would not be allowed to remain in Gaul. He sent to the German chief Ariovistus and asked him to name a place for a parley. The independent young man sent back the message, "If I wanted anything of you, I should go where you were ; and if you want anything of me, you must come where I am." "I am ready to be a good friend to you," returned Caesar, "but you may be sure that I shall not overlook any injury to the people of Gaul." " If you want to fight," declared Ariovistus, "choose your own time and come on." Caesar did "come on," and he drove the Germans back over the Rhine.

Now the Gauls were bright people, keen and wideawake. They began to suspect that Caesar meant not only to drive away the Germans, but to conquer Gaul, and they had no idea of giving up their freedom. Year after year the struggle between Caesar and the Gauls went on. At length Gaul seemed to be completely subdued, and Caesar ventured to return to Rome for a short time. This was just the moment for a revolt, and a young chief called Vercingetorix aroused the other chiefs to unite against the invaders. These chiefs chose him to be their leader. Then they stacked their standards and took a solemn oath to be true to their country and to one another.

But when Caesar returned they soon found out that they could not withstand him in open battle. "We must starve him out," declared Vercingetorix to his people. "There are a few towns that we can defend, but every other town and even every village that contains any store of grain must be burned to the ground. This is not an easy thing for you to do, but would it be easier to give up your own lives and have your wives and children sold as slaves?" "No, no," the people shouted, and before the sun had set, twenty villages were already smouldering in their ruins. "Let them burn!" cried the Gauls; "we shall soon have better ones."

But the people of the town Avaricum begged that their city might be spared. "It is one of the finest towns in all Gaul," they pleaded, "and there is a marsh on three sides which will serve us well in defense." Vercingetorix yielded, though unwillingly, and Avaricum was not destroyed.

It was not long before the Romans appeared at the end of a causeway which led across the marsh nearly to Avaricum. They continued this causeway by adding a strong wooden terrace, 330 feet wide and 80 feet high ; and on this they built stout sheds of heavy logs, their roofs covered with clay, and also built a high fence or screen. Both sheds and fence were on rollers and were pushed nearer and nearer to the town as the work progressed. They began also a high tower from which the slingers and archers could shoot.

The Gauls, too, had been building towers, and these stood, well filled with soldiers, all along the wall of the town. This wall was too strong for any battering ram to make a hole in it, and as it was built chiefly of stones, it could not be set on fire. Therefore the Romans clutched the great stones with stout hooks and pulled them down; that is, they tried to pull them down, but the Gauls had a discouraging fashion of letting down nooses to catch the hooks, and then pulling them up over the wall. They had another custom which was even more disagreeable, for they poured streams of boiling pitch down upon the heads of their enemies. Nevertheless, the Romans kept hard at work till the tower was nearly finished. Suddenly, a slender thread of smoke was seen, then there was a tongue of fire, and then the woodwork of the terrace burst into flames, for some of the Gauls had been burrowing under it and had set it afire.

Now the Gauls poured out of the gates. A fierce battle was waged, and Avaricum was taken. The Gauls, old men, women, and children, were cut down without mercy. Out of more than forty thousand, only eight hundred escaped. These managed to make their way to the camp of Vercingetorix, a few miles distant. " Keep your courage," the wise young leader pleaded. "No one can expect to have success always. If Gaul is only united, the whole world cannot overcome her." The men shouted and clashed their arms in applause, and Vercingetorix set out at once to persuade as many tribes as possible to unite with him against the Roman invaders.

The Gauls fought savagely for their freedom, but at length the time came when they had to withdraw to the hill town of Alesia. Vercingetorix had foreseen that this might be necessary, and therefore he had fortified the town and stored it with provisions, so that if the worst came to the worst, he could retreat to it for a last stand.

On the day after the Gallic leader took possession of Alesia, the watchman on the walls reported, "Caesar and his troops are encamped before the town. They are digging trenches and heaping up great mounds of earth for the archers." The Romans worked by day, and by night, too, when the moon was up. They tapped rivers and filled some of the trenches with water. They hid sharp-pointed logs and barbed spikes in low brushwood, and they made a ring of camps nearly around the town. Soon the brave defenders would be entirely shut in.

Vercingetorix now called his cavalry apart. "The Roman works will soon be completed," he said, "and if we are ever to get help, now is our chance. Do you steal out of the city to-night, and go, every one of you, to his home town. Tell your people that they must stand by us, and when you come back, bring with you every man that can wield a sword. I will do my best to make the food last a month longer. Go." That night the Gauls slipped out silently from the town and stole up the valleys into the darkness, each going the shortest way to his home town.

The days passed, and little food remained. Vercingetorix watched anxiously for the return of the cavalry. But they had gone on a difficult errand. Some of the tribes were jealous; some were defending themselves from the Germans in their own home towns ; some had already yielded to Rome ; one tribe declared that they intended to attack Caesar by themselves, and had no idea of putting themselves under any one's command. There was much delay, but at length Vercingetorix saw a cloud of dust, and as the sun fell on it, the glitter of pikes. It was the cavalry with many thousands of helpers. Now was the time for a sortie. Vercingetorix had thought of everything. He had made movable huts to shelter his men as they moved forward. He had provided fascines to fill up the trenches. A fierce battle was fought, but the Gauls were at last driven back to Alesia.

Caesar, then, was besieging Alesia, and beyond his ring of camps was a ring of Gauls who were besieging him. The fresh troops in the ring of Gauls stole silently out of their camp at midnight and drew closer to the Roman works. A sudden blare from their trumpets aroused their friends in the town. Fascines were tossed into the moats, stones flew from the slings, scaling ladders were thrown up, grappling hooks to pull down the ramparts were set to work. But the pointed logs and the spikes and the heavy pikes hurled down upon them by the Romans were more than they could meet, and again the Gauls had to withdraw.

But they did not give up. Once more they dashed upon the Roman forces from the rear, and Vercingetorix, coming down from the town rushed upon them from the front. The Gauls were more in number, but the Romans were more perfectly trained as soldiers. It began to grow dark, and the Gallic newcomers fled into the night. "Back to the town ! " commanded Vercingetorix, for the fight was lost, his last struggle for the freedom of Gaul had been made. In the morning he called his chiefs together. " I have fought for my country," he said, "not for myself, but for all of you. We have lost, but it may be that my death will appease these angry Romans. Kill me if you think best, or give me up alive to Caesar as a prisoner. Perhaps he will then spare you."

The other chiefs were men of less noble strain. They talked the matter over. "Vercingetorix will be slain in any case, ' ' they said. ' ' To die with him would be of no good to us or to him. We may as well let his death save our own lives." So they sent messengers to Caesar. "We yield," they said, "and we are ready to surrender to you Vercingetorix, the man who has been our leader in the revolt."

"Give up your arms," commanded Caesar, "and let the under-chief s come forth." Then the underchiefs came out to Caesar and bowed humbly before him as he sat on a tribunal or raised seat built on a fragment of the wall in front of his camp, and every chief said, "I promise to be faithful to you and to serve you." Then a trampling of hoofs was heard, and a handsome horse, splendidly caparisoned, galloped through the gateway of the city. On his back was Vercingetorix. Three times he rode around the tribunal; then he sprang lightly to the ground, took off his armor and laid it together with his sword on the ground before Caesar, bowing himself at the feet of his conqueror. There he knelt, silently begging mercy for his people. Caesar gazed at him for some moments, then ordered the guards to lead him away. For six long years the noble Gallic patriot was kept in a dungeon at Rome. Then came the time of Caesar's triumphal procession in honor of his victories. The great general rode in a superb chariot drawn by white horses. He wore a robe heavily embroidered with palm leaves, and on his head was a crown of laurel. An ivory scepter was in his hand. The senators of Rome formed his escort and conducted him through the city gates, through the streets, and up to the capitol. Before him were many wagons bearing the spoils of his warfare — gold, silver, precious stones, jewelry and other products, and handiwork of the conquered countries. Then came great models of the cities that had been captured, then long lines of captives, who had now become slaves of the Romans. Behind them walked the leaders whom Caesar had subdued ; and last of them io HERO STORIES OF FRANCE

all was the noble Vercingetorix, the man who loved his country better than himself, and who had given himself gladly in the struggle to win her freedom. Even the years in a Roman dungeon had not broken his spirit, and, loaded with chains as he was, he held himself proudly erect. Between him and his conqueror marched the legions of Roman soldiers, singing songs of victory. They were praised and rewarded ; but the Gallic patriot was led back to his prison and put to death.

Chapter II Saint Denis The Missionary

Caesar was a pitiless enemy, but after the Gauls had once yielded, he treated them justly and kindly. Many of those nearest to Rome learned to talk Latin as if they had been born Romans, and to live quite in Roman fashion. They built handsome houses, temples, theaters, baths, and aqueducts. They learned how to drain the swamps and how to cultivate the soil so it would do its best. The Romans were always famous road-builders, and they taught the Gauls how to build the matchless stone roads that have lasted for centuries. Gallic schools were opened and libraries formed. The Gauls continued their old manufactures, and made also glass, silk, tapestry, and many other things; indeed, in some of their work they improved upon Roman methods. Everything went on prosperously.

But as the years passed, the Romans became idle and fond of luxury. If there was war, they were no longer eager to protect their country themselves, they preferred to pay others to fight for them. A great deal of money was called for, and taxes became very severe. The laws also became severe, until at length there was a law for almost every act and a heavy penalty for every violation. The Gauls had gained in order and civilization, but they had lost their freedom. Vercingetorix would have hardly recognized his country.

But something new and wonderful had come to pass. In a far-away little province of the Empire Jesus Christ was born, and his teachings made their way to Rome. Before this, both Gauls and Romans had worshiped many gods. They had gods of harvest, of springtime, of the sun, the moon, the rain, and the thunder. Missionaries and teachers now made their way into Gaul, and the wretched people learned that there was a God who cared for them and was sorry when they were unhappy.

Soon, however, the people who were rejoicing in this new faith found themselves in trouble with Rome. The Romans were perfectly willing that the Gauls should have as many gods as they chose, provided that they would now and then burn a few grains of incense before the images of some of the Roman gods or say a prayer before the statue of some emperor. To refuse to do this was looked upon as almost treason to the State; but, of course, no Christian could yield to any such command; therefore the Christians were terribly persecuted. Some were tortured and then slain ; some were given to wild beasts to be devoured.

Nevertheless, the teaching of the Gospel spread, and missionaries continued to go to Gaul to teach and help the unhappy people. One of the most famous of these missionaries was Saint Denis. According to the old tradition, he set out from Rome with six companions. Perhaps he went over one of the Roman roads to Lyons, which was then the capital of Gaul ; then partly by road and partly by rivers he pressed

SAINT DENIS THE MISSIONARY 13

on, stopping every little while to talk to the natives about Jesus. "You pray to the sun and the moon," he would say, "but they do not hear your prayer. Let me tell you about the one true God, who listens when you pray and cares for you."

After a while Saint Denis came to a little town on the Seine River called Lutetia, or " the muddy place." This was the name it bore in Caesar's time, three hundred years earlier; and, although it now had some excellent buildings and its people had been growing rich through the river traffic, it was still called by the same name.

The tribe living in this part of Gaul were called the Parisii. They listened eagerly to the preaching of Saint Denis and his companions. Many hundreds came to believe that what the missionaries said was true. "We will no longer worship the sun and the moon and the thunder," they declared. "We will make our prayers to the God of the preacher, for we believe that this is the one true God." They built a Christian church and rejoiced in their new faith.

Before long, however, the Roman emperor heard what was being done in the land of the Parisii, and he sent an officer to seize the missionaries and put them to death. The officer journeyed to Lutetia and called the preachers before him on the charge of teaching treason to the State. They were sentenced to be beheaded and were taken to Montjoie Hill, where the sentence was carried out. Their bodies were thrown into the river Seine, but a Christian woman recovered them and saw to it that they were i 4 HERO STORIES OF FRANCE

buried with honor. A chapel was built over Saint Denis's tomb, and for more than a thousand years the French people used to shout "Montjoie Saint Denis!" whenever they were going into battle.

Some of the pictures of Saint Denis are just a bit startling, for they represent an angel holding a crown over the martyr, although the good saint has no head on which to put it. He is doing his best, however, to supply the deficiency, for he is quietly picking up his head from the ground. People forgot that the object of such a picture was to teach, so that when any one looked at it, he would recall the manner in which the saint met his death ; and the legend arose that after Saint Denis's head was cut off, he picked it up and carried it in his arms two miles to his place of burial.

Chapter III The Coming Of Attila The Hun

In 312 the man who was then Roman emperor became a Christian, and of course this put an end to the persecutions of the Christians in Gaul. The Gauls had other troubles to meet, however, for the Germans were making raids across the Rhine into the Gallic lands. Lutetia had now become Paris, and here the Roman governor made his home, so that he could keep watch of the invaders.

Rome grew weaker and weaker, and at length the Romans almost gave up fighting with the Germans and made alliances with some of them instead, calling them friends and guests and actually allowing them — perhaps even inviting them — to come over the Rhine and make their homes in Gaul. They expected the newcomers, to whom they had shown such favor, to prevent the rest of the Germans from entering the land, but they were disappointed. The lands of Gaul were more fertile than those farther north, the climate was warmer, and the sky clearer, and the Germans continued to come. One group of tribes in particular, the Franks, or "Free Men," were especially bold and daring, and it was soon plain that they had come to stay and that all Rome could not hinder them.

Before long the time came when even the Gauls were glad of the presence of these fierce warriors. On winter evenings, in the dimly lighted homes of Gaul, fearsome tales began to be told of a terrible race known as Huns. "They are coming from Scythia," whispered the story-tellers fearfully. "They are coming on horseback, and they are bringing in great carts their women and all their treasures. They have tiny black eyes, flat faces, and broad noses. Their ears flare out from their heads, their skins are painted and tattooed. They have no beards, but their hair is rough and shaggy. Their bodies are short and square, and when they walk, they look like bears trying to stand on two legs. People say that their mothers were witches, their fathers demons, and that they know how to work all kinds of evil spells upon their enemies." "But cannot the emperor buy them off?" some one would ask; and the answer was, "The emperor has already given them land and promised to pay them tribute; but no one believes that they will stay where he put them."

They did not stay, but pressed on into Gaul ; and now the Gauls were glad of the help of Romans, Franks, and any one else who could wield a sword. Led by their chief Attila, the Huns swept on, killing and destroying wherever they went. "Grass never grows again where the hoofs of Attila's steed have trod," was the old saying.

Attila claimed that his sword had come to him as a gift from the god of war. It seemed, according to the legend, that one of the Hun shepherds noticed that blood was dropping from the foot of a young heifer.

THE COMING OF ATTILA THE HUN 17

He traced her footsteps back to a place where he saw a sharp point sticking up out of the ground, and found that it was the point of an ancient sword. He carried the sword to Attila. "This is the sword of the god of war," declared the wily leader. "The gods have sent it to me, and wherever I wield it, there we shall win a victory."

It began to seem as if Attila had made a true prophecy, for the chief with his Huns ran through country after country, successful almost everywhere. "The Scourge of God," he was afterward called. He and his savage followers were galloping straight for Paris, and the people of that city were just beginning a frantic flight for somewhere, they knew not where, in the hope of saving their lives, when suddenly the doors of the church were flung open, and a young maiden stood before them. The people fell on their knees before her, for this was Genevieve, a shepherd girl whose holiness they all knew. " I have called the holy matrons and the consecrated virgins to come together in the church," she said, "and I have bidden them to pray earnestly and trustfully to God that he will save our city. He has listened to our prayers. Go back to your houses, for Paris will be saved."

This is the legend that has come down through the years. Whether it is true or not, it is a fact that Attila suddenly changed his course ; Paris was spared, and he drove on to Orleans.

Orleans had new and strong fortifications, and her people had no thought of yielding. But after a while food began to be scanty, the walls showed cracks made by Attila's battering rams, and the Huns were drawing closer and closer around the city. The citizens of Orleans knew that Romans, Gauls, Franks, and others were trying to come together to meet the Huns, but there was long delay in their coming, and perhaps they would not come at all.

"Be brave and do not let your courage fail," said the good Bishop of Orleans to his people. "Here is the messenger whom I sent to the lookout on the rampart. Have you good news for us?" he asked, turning to the young man.

"Alas, no!" he replied. "I could see nothing but the great plain stretching out to the horizon."

"Go once more," bade the bishop, and the young man went again.

"Are they coming?" asked the bishop when he returned.

"Alas, no!" replied the young man for the second time. "There is nothing to be seen but the great plain."

"Go yet a third time, my son," said the bishop. "God's aid sometimes seems slow, but it is sure."

So the young man went a third time, and when he came back his face was so bright that the people knew he had brought good news.

"The great plain stretches out as before," he said, "but far away on the horizon there is a tiny cloud."

"The armies are coming! It is the aid of the living God!" cried the bishop; and the multitude said after him in hushed and reverent tones, "it is the aid of the living God."

THE COMING OF ATTILA THE HUN 19

So the people of Orleans fought more bravely than ever, and soon Attila too saw the cloud, then the gleam of the shining pikes, then the banners, and last, the thousands of strong fighters coming to the rescue of the city.

Evidently a battle was at hand that would need all his forces, and Attila withdrew at once to the plain of the Marne River where Chalons now stands, brought all his troops together, and fortified his camp, arranging a breastwork of wagons around it. Then he spoke to his followers:

"Do you see our enemies coming upon us?" he asked, pointing to the advancing lines. "From one end of Europe to the other, armies have fled before us, and these people too will flee. Glorious deeds await you and mighty will be your rewards. Be brave. Be fearless, and show our enemies the valor of the Huns!" "On! On! Lead us on!" cried the Huns, shouting their battle-cries and rushing forward upon the Gallic lines.

Terrible fighting went on all that day, and only ceased when the combatants could no longer see one another's faces. Attila withdrew to the shelter of the camp with its barricade of wagons and its intrenchments and made ready for another battle on the morrow. "No man shall ever boast of having captured Attila, the Scourge of God!" he declared, and he built up a great mound of the wooden saddles of his cavalry. On this he poured out his most valuable treasures, and around it he stationed his wives. "If our enemies should be on the point of taking the camp," he said, "I shall set fire to this pile and perish with my treasures. Neither I nor these shall ever fall into the hands of our foes."

When the morning came, the battle went on again, so furiously that, even after the fighting had ceased, people could hardly believe that it had really come to a close, and the legend quickly arose that high up in the clouds above the field of slaughter the spirits of the slain continued for three days the dreadful struggle. The Gauls and their aids were the victors, but they made no attempt to destroy the invaders. Attila and his followers were allowed to withdraw toward Germany.

One year later the Huns invaded Italy and overcame city after city. The terrible Hun, savage as he was, had a sense of humor. In one of the Italian cities Attila came upon a picture representing the Roman emperors sitting on their thrones, while the princes of Scythia bowed at their feet. Attila sent for a painter. "Change that," he commanded. "Put me on the throne and paint the emperors pouring out their gold at my feet." ? Attila was planning more invasions when he suddenly died. His followers raised a great silken pavilion and within it they laid the body of their leader. Around this marched the lines of the Huns, chanting a funeral hymn of praise and sorrow. "He was glorious in his life," they sang, "and in his death he was invincible. To his people he was a father, to his enemies a scourge, and to the whole world a dread and terror." They cut off locks of their