An Episode in French History.
By Elizabeth Wilson Pardee (age 15.)
(Honor Member)
In 885 a.d., during the reign of Charles the Fat, Rollo, a gigantic Norse chief, who was so large that no horse could carry him, resolved to conquer France. Sailing up the river Seine to Paris with seven hundred vessels and thirty thousand warriors, he besieged it for a year and a half. Then as the city would not surrender, he fell back to Rouen, and tried to obtain possession of the surrounding country.
A few years later, Charles the Simple, who occupied the throne at that time, found chat he was no match for the Northmen, so hoped to make peace by offering Rollo the privilege of marrying the daughter of the archbishop of Rouen and a gift of one thousand square miles around the city. The only condition the king imposed was that Rollo should acknowledge him as his sovereign. To this Rollo made no objections, knowing that he could keep or break his oath of allegiance as he chose.
At a great assembly, King Charles made the grant in solemn feudal form. Rollo was then informed that all that remained to complete the ceremony was for him to show his allegiance to the king by kissing his Majesty’s foot.
“Never!” answered the barbarian, fiercely. “I will bow the knee to no one, much less kiss any man’s foot.”
Rollo, after much urging from the archbishop, consented to go through the performance by proxy, and ordered one of his warriors ta kiss the king’s foot. The man obeyed, but instead of kneeling, jerked the king’s foot into the air so suddenly and forcibly that the monarch was sent sprawling backward, amid shouts of laughter from the spectators, who greatly enjoyed this part of the ceremony. The king recovered his dignity as best he could, but dared not expostulate.
He was satisfied now that he had gained his one great object, which was peace with the Northmen.
“Distance.” By Seward P. Simons, age 15. (Silver Badge.)
An Episode in French History.
By Elizabeth Wilson Pardee (age 15.)
(Honor Member)
An, interesting episode in French history, to me, was the banishment of one of the congregations, a teaching order, during the present historical epoch. the separation of the church end state.
My sister and I were at a French religious school just inside the boundaries of France, a short distance from Geneva. The place was beautifully situated between the Salève Mountain and the Arve River. The school buildings were fine and large, and the estate produced everything required for food, even the wine.
The mothers, or teachers, were very kind and good, and although we are not Roman Catholics, we were very happy, and made many warm friends among them.
One morning at breakfast, early in July, 1903, we found, to our amazement, that none of the mothers had slept the previous night—and no wonder, poor things! for we learned later, what they had known the night before, that the French government had given them notice to leave France at once, and would also confiscate their property.
This seemed very hard, because not more than twenty years before they had been compelled to leave the canton of Geneva, where they had first established their school.
It happened that the order owned a house in Fribourg, and it was decided that the school go there; and, although Fribourg is the Roman Catholic center of Switzerland, the mothers thought it best to disguise themselves as people of the world, and no one was to know they were a religious house. One mother returned to her own family, and others were scattered in different schools in various parts of the world.
Of course they had to let their hair grow, and it was very funny to hear how “Mère Allouisé” was able to use two hairpins and “Mere Geneviève” three. And one would not recognize these same mothers when ready to leave, they were so changed.
“Distance.” By Lawrence Sheridan, age 17.
