An Episode in French History.
By Francis Marion Miller (age 15.)
(Gold Badge)
To France goes the honer of having built the first fleet of ironclads, the battleships that succeeded L’ Orient, Victory, and Constitution, and out of which has developed the powerful fighting machines of to-day. In 1854 France constructed four ironclads that a year later sailed with her fleets co the Crimean War. Three of these boats were formed into a squadron. The first test of the real value of these vessels was at the mouth of the Dnieper River, where they were ordered to assault the forts of Kinburn. These fortifications had successfully resisted the attacks of the combined fleets of the allies.
The French vessels sailed confidently on, and closing in with the forts the battle commenced. Shots literally poured out of the ships and forts. The fire of the French did dreadful damage. A great shot plowed into one fort, nearly destroying it, and casting earth and debris far from where it struck. The forts were fought gallantly and stubbornly, but to no avail. The shots that found their mark and hit the French boats made no impression on their formidable foe. When the action commenced, the thunder of battle was frightful to hear. A cloud of smoke hovered over the combatants like a death pall, pierced here and there by vivid flashes of fire. At first the number of flashes was blinding, the reports deafening, the thought of what was going on terrible to meditate. Gradually, however, on the land side, the flashes and reports diminished ta an occasional demonstration as one by one the forts were silenced. The smoke-cloud, lifting from over the ruined forts of Kinburn, lifted from over an important episode in French history.
This battle marked the beginning of the era of iron and steel, that succeeded wood in naval construction. Since then hundreds have been killed, thousands have been wounded, millions of dollars have been destroyed in naval warfare. The battle-ships of to-day could at a single broadside destroy those gladiator: of the Crimean War. But our modern fighting vessels are merely great developments of those French ironclads which, that memorable day, at the mouth of the Dnieper Riser, so gallantly upheld the honor of France, and planted the event of the bombardment af the forts of Kinburn among the foremost episodes of the world’s history.
This was the first battle in which ironclads participated.
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MY GREATEST PLEASURE.
By Katharine Rutan Newmann (age 11.)
(Silver Badge)
And hear the kettle sing.
I got a bur within my fur;
It’s not a pleasant thing.
They are afraid of me.
They say, “Look, look, the cat is out;
Our doom is fixed—he, he!”
And see them tumble round;
Through that I lost my mittens,
And they cannot he found.
A-thinking of my luck,
I thought that really I preferred
A chicken to a duck.
“Distance.” By Miles W. Weeks, age 17. (Gold Badge.)
Jeanne d’ Arc.
By Persis Parker (age 14.)
(Gold Badge)
The great audience-hall of the Chateau Chinon was ablaze with light. The polished white walls reflected the sparkle of jewels and the sheen of satin and silk.
“Nay, queen mother, she is no witch—only a simple country maid.”
“You will not give her a private audience, Charles?”
“The ladies wish to see this soldier peasant girl, so let her come here.”
This conversation took place between Prince Charles VII of France and Yolande, the queen mother. Suddenly a blare of trumpets silenced all laughter, and only whispers were heard in the great room; the side doors were thrown open, and Jeanne d’ Arc entered. Her fine dark eyes shone with excitement, and an almost holy tight seemed to play round her whole figure, which was clothed in armor.
As she advanced, murmurs of amazement were heard on all sides. Her movements were graceful, and not a sign of the strangeness of her position passed over her pale white face. In the canopied chair of state a handsome youth played the part of the Dauphin, while the weak features of Charles were seen near the doors. Jeanne did not mistake for a moment this lad for the Dauphin, but with supernatural instinct turned to Charles.
“I am sent of God, noble prince,” she said, “to raise the siege of Orléans and to see you crowned at Rheims.”
Charles, impressed by this, led her aside and into an alcove where the moonlight streamed through an open