The Complete Works of L M Montgomery, page 773
And void,/ Or at least
The stuff they/ produce
Is./ They are too lazy
To hunt up rhymes;
And that
Is all
That is the matter with them.
The Poems
Leaskdale Church, Ontario. From 1910 to 1926 the minister was Rev. Ewan Macdonald, Montgomery’s husband. The author wrote many of her famous books while living in the manse.
LIST OF POEMS IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER
THE WATCHMAN
RAIN ALONG SHORE
SEA SUNSET
WHEN THE DARK COMES DOWN
HARBOR MOONRISE
BEFORE STORM
ON THE BAY
SHORE TWILIGHT
SONG OF THE SEA-WIND
MORNING ALONG SHORE
OFF TO THE FISHING GROUND
IN PORT
THE GULLS
SUNRISE ALONG SHORE
THE SEA SPIRIT
HARBOR DAWN
MY LONGSHORE LASS
WHEN THE FISHING BOATS GO OUT
THE BRIDAL
THE SEA TO THE SHORE
THE VOYAGERS
TWILIGHT AND I WENT HAND IN HAND
COME, REST AWHILE
AN APRIL NIGHT
RAIN ON THE HILL
FOR LITTLE THINGS
SPRING SONG
A DAY OFF
THE WIND
THE WOOD POOL
DOWN STREAM
ECHO DELL
THE ROVERS
AMONG THE PINES
A DAY IN THE OPEN
MIDNIGHT IN CAMP
THE HILL MAPLES
A SUMMER DAY
SEPTEMBER
IN LOVERS’ LANE
ON THE HILLS
AN AUTUMN EVENING
NOVEMBER EVENING
OUT O’ DOORS
IN THE DAYS OF THE GOLDEN ROD
A WINTER DAY
TWILIGHT
THE CALL OF THE WINDS
A WINTER DAWN
THE FOREST PATH
AT NIGHTFALL
THE TRUCE O’ NIGHT
TO MY ENEMY
AS THE HEART HOPES
TWO LOVES
THE CHRISTMAS NIGHT
IN AN OLD FARMHOUSE
A REQUEST
MEMORY PICTURES
DOWN HOME
THE CHOICE
TWILIGHT IN THE GARDEN
MY LEGACY
GRATITUDE
FANCIES
ONE OF THE SHEPHERDS
IF MARY HAD KNOWN
AT THE LONG SAULT
THE EXILE
THE THREE SONGS
IN AN OLD TOWN GARDEN
THE SEEKER
THE POET’S THOUGHT
THE CALL
THE OLD HOME CALLS
GENIUS
LOVE’S PRAYER
THE PRISONER
COMPANIONED
YOU
UNRECORDED
WITH TEARS THEY BURIED YOU TO-DAY
IN MEMORY OF “MAGGIE”
REALIZATION
THE GARDEN IN WINTER
THE DIFFERENCE
THE POET
THE MOTHER
TO ONE HATED
WHILE THE FATES SLEEP
THE FAREWELL
THE OLD MAN’S GRAVE
FOREVER
BY AN AUTUMN FIRE
THE MAYFLOWER’S MESSAGE
APPLE BLOSSOMS
IN LILAC TIME
IN HAYING TIME
AN AUTUMN SHOWER
WHEN AUTUMN COMES
THE LAST BLUEBIRD
THE LULLABY
NOVEMBER DUSK
THE FIRST SNOWFALL
BUTTERCUPS
ECHO
THE POND PASTURE
DROUGHT
AFTER DROUGHT
RAIN IN THE COUNTRY
THE TREE LOVERS
IN UNTROD WOODS
THE WILD PLACES
A PERFECT DAY
REQUIEM
IN TWILIGHT FIELDS
TWILIGHT IN ABEGWEIT
NIGHT IN THE PASTURES
NIGHT
ON THE GULF SHORE
WHEN THE TIDE GOES OUT
BEFORE STORM
THE SANDSHORE IN SEPTEMBER
HOME FROM TOWN
IF I WERE HOME
INTERLUDE
LAST NIGHT IN DREAMS
SOUTHERNWOOD,
THE APPLE-PICKING TIME
COILING UP THE HAY
THE GABLE WINDOW
GRANDMOTHER’S GARDEN
THE LIGHT IN MOTHER’S EYES
AN OLD FACE
AT THE DANCE
COMPARISONS
IF LOVE SHOULD COME
THE PARTING SOUL
I ASKED OF GOD
A THANKSGIVING
WE HAVE SEEN HIS STAR
COULD WE BUT KNOW
I WISH YOU
THE LAND OF SOME DAY
THE ONLY WAY
THE REVELATION
A SMILE
SUCCESS
THE TEST
THE TWO GUESTS
THE WORDS I DID NOT SAY
WHICH HAS MORE PATIENCE — MAN OR WOMAN?
ALL A BOARD FOR DREAMLAND
THE GRUMBLE FAMILY
IN TWILIGHT LAND
THE QUEST OF LAZY-LAD
UP IN THE POPLARS
WHAT CHILDREN KNOW
THE NEW YEAR’S BOOK
FAREWELL
ON CAPE LE FORCE
JUNE!
LIST OF POEMS IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER
A DAY IN THE OPEN
A DAY OFF
A PERFECT DAY
A REQUEST
A SMILE
A SUMMER DAY
A THANKSGIVING
A WINTER DAWN
A WINTER DAY
AFTER DROUGHT
ALL A BOARD FOR DREAMLAND
AMONG THE PINES
AN APRIL NIGHT
AN AUTUMN EVENING
AN AUTUMN SHOWER
AN OLD FACE
APPLE BLOSSOMS
AS THE HEART HOPES
AT NIGHTFALL
AT THE DANCE
AT THE LONG SAULT
BEFORE STORM
BEFORE STORM
BUTTERCUPS
BY AN AUTUMN FIRE
COILING UP THE HAY
COME, REST AWHILE
COMPANIONED
COMPARISONS
COULD WE BUT KNOW
DOWN HOME
DOWN STREAM
DROUGHT
ECHO
ECHO DELL
FANCIES
FAREWELL
FOR LITTLE THINGS
FOREVER
GENIUS
GRANDMOTHER’S GARDEN
GRATITUDE
HARBOR DAWN
HARBOR MOONRISE
HOME FROM TOWN
I ASKED OF GOD
I WISH YOU
IF I WERE HOME
IF LOVE SHOULD COME
IF MARY HAD KNOWN
IN AN OLD FARMHOUSE
IN AN OLD TOWN GARDEN
IN HAYING TIME
IN LILAC TIME
IN LOVERS’ LANE
IN MEMORY OF “MAGGIE”
IN PORT
IN THE DAYS OF THE GOLDEN ROD
IN TWILIGHT FIELDS
IN TWILIGHT LAND
IN UNTROD WOODS
INTERLUDE
JUNE!
LAST NIGHT IN DREAMS
LOVE’S PRAYER
MEMORY PICTURES
MIDNIGHT IN CAMP
MORNING ALONG SHORE
MY LEGACY
MY LONGSHORE LASS
NIGHT
NIGHT IN THE PASTURES
NOVEMBER DUSK
NOVEMBER EVENING
OFF TO THE FISHING GROUND
ON CAPE LE FORCE
ON THE BAY
ON THE GULF SHORE
ON THE HILLS
ONE OF THE SHEPHERDS
OUT O’ DOORS
RAIN ALONG SHORE
RAIN IN THE COUNTRY
RAIN ON THE HILL
REALIZATION
REQUIEM
SEA SUNSET
SEPTEMBER
SHORE TWILIGHT
SONG OF THE SEA-WIND
SOUTHERNWOOD,
SPRING SONG
SUCCESS
SUNRISE ALONG SHORE
THE APPLE-PICKING TIME
THE BRIDAL
THE CALL
THE CALL OF THE WINDS
THE CHOICE
THE CHRISTMAS NIGHT
THE DIFFERENCE
THE EXILE
THE FAREWELL
THE FIRST SNOWFALL
THE FOREST PATH
THE GABLE WINDOW
THE GARDEN IN WINTER
THE GRUMBLE FAMILY
THE GULLS
THE HILL MAPLES
THE LAND OF SOME DAY
THE LAST BLUEBIRD
THE LIGHT IN MOTHER’S EYES
THE LULLABY
THE MAYFLOWER’S MESSAGE
THE MOTHER
THE NEW YEAR’S BOOK
THE OLD HOME CALLS
THE OLD MAN’S GRAVE
THE ONLY WAY
THE PARTING SOUL
THE POET
THE POET’S THOUGHT
THE POND PASTURE
THE PRISONER
THE QUEST OF LAZY-LAD
THE REVELATION
THE ROVERS
THE SANDSHORE IN SEPTEMBER
THE SEA SPIRIT
THE SEA TO THE SHORE
THE SEEKER
THE TEST
THE THREE SONGS
THE TREE LOVERS
THE TRUCE O’ NIGHT
THE TWO GUESTS
THE VOYAGERS
THE WATCHMAN
THE WILD PLACES
THE WIND
THE WOOD POOL
THE WORDS I DID NOT SAY
TO MY ENEMY
TO ONE HATED
TWILIGHT
TWILIGHT AND I WENT HAND IN HAND
TWILIGHT IN ABEGWEIT
TWILIGHT IN THE GARDEN
TWO LOVES
UNRECORDED
UP IN THE POPLARS
WE HAVE SEEN HIS STAR
WHAT CHILDREN KNOW
WHEN AUTUMN COMES
WHEN THE DARK COMES DOWN
WHEN THE FISHING BOATS GO OUT
WHEN THE TIDE GOES OUT
WHICH HAS MORE PATIENCE — MAN OR WOMAN?
WHILE THE FATES SLEEP
WITH TEARS THEY BURIED YOU TO-DAY
YOU
The Non-Fiction
Montgomery’s Toronto home, her last
COURAGEOUS WOMEN
Lucy Maud Montgomery collaborated with Marian Keith and Mabel Burns McKinley on Courageous Women, published by McClelland & Stewart in 1934. Its 21 essays feature notable women who made significant impact in a variety of spheres and careers, including education, politics, the arts, medical and missionary work and in the war effort. Although Montgomery’s name appears first on the title page, she apparently wrote only three of the chapters, which appear as the first three chapters, dealing with Joan of Arc, Florence Nightingale, and Mary Slessor of Calabar.
A first edition copy of Courageous Women
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I. THE MAID OF FRANCE: JOAN OF ARC
CHAPTER II. THE ANGEL OF THE CRIMEA: FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE
CHAPTER III. THE GREAT WHITE MA: MARY SLESSOR OF CALABAR
CHAPTER IV. A BRAVE DEED: LAURA SECORD
CHAPTER V. HAPPINESS IN A LOG-CABIN: CATHARINE PARR TRAILL
CHAPTER VI. A NOBLE GIRL QUEEN: QUEEN VICTORIA
CHAPTER VII. COURAGE IN DANGER: MADELEINE DE VERCHÈRES
CHAPTER VIII. FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT: HELEN KELLER
CHAPTER IX. A FRIEND OF THE SCHOOL: ADA MAY COURTICE
CHAPTER X. THE GOLDEN CHRYSANTHEMUM: CAROLINE MACDONALD
CHAPTER XI. A LOYAL PIONEER OF THE WEST: ELIZABETH LOUISE MAIR
CHAPTER XII. CARING FOR INDIANS: ANNA J. GAUDIN
CHAPTER XIII. A WAR HEROINE: EDITH CAVELL
CHAPTER XIV. BRAVING THE WHITE NORTH: SADIE STRINGER
CHAPTER XV. CANADA’S QUEEN OF SONG: MADAME ALBANI
CHAPTER XVI. THE PRINCESS OF THE PADDLE: (TEKAHIONWAKE) PAULINE JOHNSON
CHAPTER XVII. A LEADER IN EDUCATION: ALETTA ELISE MARTY
CHAPTER XVIII. A PUPIL AT SCHOOL: DR. MARGARET MACKELLAR
CHAPTER XIX. A DAUGHTER OF THE EMPIRE: MARGARET POLSON MURRAY
CHAPTER XX. SERVICE FOR OTHERS: LADY TILLEY
CHAPTER XXI. CHAMPION OF DUMB ANIMALS: MARSHALL SAUNDERS
A portrait of Lucy Maud Montgomery
CHAPTER I. THE MAID OF FRANCE: JOAN OF ARC
Sometime around the year 1412 a little peasant maid was born in Domremy, a country village of eastern France. Before her was a strange fate. She was to live for a few brief years and in those years she was to change the current of history.
Joan’s father was a poor farmer. But there was something in the mother that might partially explain Joan. The wife of James d’Arc was nicknamed Isobel Romée—”the woman who had been to Rome.” She had sufficient religious fervor to make the long and dangerous pilgrimage to Rome to see the Pope. What that meant only those who know the condition of Europe at the time can realize.
We do not know what Joan looked like. There are more pictures of her than of any other woman except the Virgin Mary but they are all imaginary. We know she had coal-black hair and she must have been a strapping lass when she could wear the heavy armour of the period and get about in it. No slender, dreamy, ethereal maiden, such as some artists represent her, could have done that. She could plough, too, and tend sheep, as all her chums could. She was normally a gay, gallant little soul, warmhearted, impulsive, kind to the poor and sick, with a tang of humor and a bit of a temper and a ready tongue. Thus we see the little Joan of that pleasant remote valley, with the long wooded hills on either side, its white sheep, and its white stars of wild strawberry blossoms.
Joan grew up like the other little peasants of her village. She never learned to read or write, but she could spin and sew beautifully. She was a friendly lass, and liked to play with other children in the beautiful woods near the village; only when they hung garlands on the Oak of the Fairies, Joan slipped away and laid hers beneath the statues of the saints in the little village church, especially those of St. Catherine and St. Margaret. When the boys and girls ran races Joan ran, too, and outstripped them all. But times came when she liked to be quiet and pray alone in the church. And the thing she prayed for most earnestly was that God might have pity on France.
France needed it. That unhappy land was torn and distracted. For a hundred years the kings of England had been trying to conquer it. There was no king — only the heir apparent, called the Dauphin. He had never been crowned because eight years before, when Henry of England married the Princess Katherine of France, the French, worn out with ceaseless war, had agreed to accept Henry V’s son as their ruler instead of the son of their old king. But all the French were not in favor of this and soon France was divided into two parties. One was for the Dauphin. The other, including the Duke of Burgundy, sided with the English. Civil war ensued, and whichever party was temporarily uppermost, the country people were plundered. The land was full of marauding bands of soldiers. Whole towns fell into decay, and roads grew over with grass. There was no peace anywhere. Even the very children were on opposite sides and fought pitched battles — except in Domremy where everybody was in favor of the Dauphin.
But there were two things that worked against the Dauphin and his chances of ever being firmly seated on the throne of his fathers. The first was that he had never been crowned in Rheims cathedral. No Dauphin was ever held to be really King of France unless he had been anointed with the sacred oil in Rheims cathedral. But Rheims was in the power of the English and there you were. The second, and worst, was the Dauphin himself. He was anything but a hero of romance. He had spindle-shanks and a bulbous nose; he was weak and superstitious, forever blown this way and that way by all the opinions around him. He was a coward and wanted to run away to Spain or Scotland. Hardly a ruler worth fighting for, one would think. But there was something else at stake with him — the rescue of France from foreign bondage. And that was why Joan was praying for him in the little gray church in Domremy.
When Joan was thirteen she began to hear her “voices.” Scientific men have been arguing for hundreds of years about those “voices” and coming to no agreement. But there is no doubt whatever that Joan herself firmly believed she heard them. One summer day in her father’s garden she saw a great light, like a shining cloud, and a voice told her to go out and save France from the English. Later on she saw St. Catherine and St. Margaret and the Archangel Michael. And they all told her the same thing. This went on for four years.
At first she was terrified and unwilling. Like the child she was, she cried. She did not see what she could do. She was only a poor girl who could not lead soldiers to war. And things were going from bad to worse with the unlucky Dauphin. By this time he held France only south of the Loire. He was so poor he could hardly afford a new pair of boots for his ill-shaped feet. But Orléans was still true to the Dauphin and as long as he held it his case was not hopeless. The English besieged it; if they could take it they would be masters of all France. And nobody knew anything or anybody to prevent them taking it.
Enter Joan!
Joan was seventeen. In far away Domremy she heard of the siege of Orléans. Her voices kept telling her she must go and drive the English away. They told her to go to a nearby town, Vaucouleurs, and ask the commander there, Robert de Baudricourt, to send her to the Dauphin. When she saw him she was to tell him she had come to save France. Beautifully simple.
Joan went to an uncle — probably she knew if she went to her father she would be spanked. Girls of seventeen were quite often treated in that way in the France of the middle ages. She told her uncle that she must go to the Dauphin and that Robert de Baudricourt must lend her a small guard of soldiers for the journey. What is strange is that her uncle believed her. What is not strange is that Robert didn’t. He laughed at the notion and told her uncle to take the half-witted creature home and box her ears.
Joan did not stay home. She came again. Eventually Robert lent her the guard. Perhaps she had convinced him. Joan had a strange power of convincing people. Or perhaps he thought it the easiest way to get rid of her.
Joan, all through her career, showed herself to be possessed of the sort of glorified common sense which sees the right thing to do and does it. She doffed her red serge dress, cut her black hair short, and donned a boy’s suit. It was, as I have said, the sensible thing to do in such a land under such conditions, and consequently it set everyone in church and state by the ears and did more than all else to bring Joan to the stake.
The stuff they/ produce
Is./ They are too lazy
To hunt up rhymes;
And that
Is all
That is the matter with them.
The Poems
Leaskdale Church, Ontario. From 1910 to 1926 the minister was Rev. Ewan Macdonald, Montgomery’s husband. The author wrote many of her famous books while living in the manse.
LIST OF POEMS IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER
THE WATCHMAN
RAIN ALONG SHORE
SEA SUNSET
WHEN THE DARK COMES DOWN
HARBOR MOONRISE
BEFORE STORM
ON THE BAY
SHORE TWILIGHT
SONG OF THE SEA-WIND
MORNING ALONG SHORE
OFF TO THE FISHING GROUND
IN PORT
THE GULLS
SUNRISE ALONG SHORE
THE SEA SPIRIT
HARBOR DAWN
MY LONGSHORE LASS
WHEN THE FISHING BOATS GO OUT
THE BRIDAL
THE SEA TO THE SHORE
THE VOYAGERS
TWILIGHT AND I WENT HAND IN HAND
COME, REST AWHILE
AN APRIL NIGHT
RAIN ON THE HILL
FOR LITTLE THINGS
SPRING SONG
A DAY OFF
THE WIND
THE WOOD POOL
DOWN STREAM
ECHO DELL
THE ROVERS
AMONG THE PINES
A DAY IN THE OPEN
MIDNIGHT IN CAMP
THE HILL MAPLES
A SUMMER DAY
SEPTEMBER
IN LOVERS’ LANE
ON THE HILLS
AN AUTUMN EVENING
NOVEMBER EVENING
OUT O’ DOORS
IN THE DAYS OF THE GOLDEN ROD
A WINTER DAY
TWILIGHT
THE CALL OF THE WINDS
A WINTER DAWN
THE FOREST PATH
AT NIGHTFALL
THE TRUCE O’ NIGHT
TO MY ENEMY
AS THE HEART HOPES
TWO LOVES
THE CHRISTMAS NIGHT
IN AN OLD FARMHOUSE
A REQUEST
MEMORY PICTURES
DOWN HOME
THE CHOICE
TWILIGHT IN THE GARDEN
MY LEGACY
GRATITUDE
FANCIES
ONE OF THE SHEPHERDS
IF MARY HAD KNOWN
AT THE LONG SAULT
THE EXILE
THE THREE SONGS
IN AN OLD TOWN GARDEN
THE SEEKER
THE POET’S THOUGHT
THE CALL
THE OLD HOME CALLS
GENIUS
LOVE’S PRAYER
THE PRISONER
COMPANIONED
YOU
UNRECORDED
WITH TEARS THEY BURIED YOU TO-DAY
IN MEMORY OF “MAGGIE”
REALIZATION
THE GARDEN IN WINTER
THE DIFFERENCE
THE POET
THE MOTHER
TO ONE HATED
WHILE THE FATES SLEEP
THE FAREWELL
THE OLD MAN’S GRAVE
FOREVER
BY AN AUTUMN FIRE
THE MAYFLOWER’S MESSAGE
APPLE BLOSSOMS
IN LILAC TIME
IN HAYING TIME
AN AUTUMN SHOWER
WHEN AUTUMN COMES
THE LAST BLUEBIRD
THE LULLABY
NOVEMBER DUSK
THE FIRST SNOWFALL
BUTTERCUPS
ECHO
THE POND PASTURE
DROUGHT
AFTER DROUGHT
RAIN IN THE COUNTRY
THE TREE LOVERS
IN UNTROD WOODS
THE WILD PLACES
A PERFECT DAY
REQUIEM
IN TWILIGHT FIELDS
TWILIGHT IN ABEGWEIT
NIGHT IN THE PASTURES
NIGHT
ON THE GULF SHORE
WHEN THE TIDE GOES OUT
BEFORE STORM
THE SANDSHORE IN SEPTEMBER
HOME FROM TOWN
IF I WERE HOME
INTERLUDE
LAST NIGHT IN DREAMS
SOUTHERNWOOD,
THE APPLE-PICKING TIME
COILING UP THE HAY
THE GABLE WINDOW
GRANDMOTHER’S GARDEN
THE LIGHT IN MOTHER’S EYES
AN OLD FACE
AT THE DANCE
COMPARISONS
IF LOVE SHOULD COME
THE PARTING SOUL
I ASKED OF GOD
A THANKSGIVING
WE HAVE SEEN HIS STAR
COULD WE BUT KNOW
I WISH YOU
THE LAND OF SOME DAY
THE ONLY WAY
THE REVELATION
A SMILE
SUCCESS
THE TEST
THE TWO GUESTS
THE WORDS I DID NOT SAY
WHICH HAS MORE PATIENCE — MAN OR WOMAN?
ALL A BOARD FOR DREAMLAND
THE GRUMBLE FAMILY
IN TWILIGHT LAND
THE QUEST OF LAZY-LAD
UP IN THE POPLARS
WHAT CHILDREN KNOW
THE NEW YEAR’S BOOK
FAREWELL
ON CAPE LE FORCE
JUNE!
LIST OF POEMS IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER
A DAY IN THE OPEN
A DAY OFF
A PERFECT DAY
A REQUEST
A SMILE
A SUMMER DAY
A THANKSGIVING
A WINTER DAWN
A WINTER DAY
AFTER DROUGHT
ALL A BOARD FOR DREAMLAND
AMONG THE PINES
AN APRIL NIGHT
AN AUTUMN EVENING
AN AUTUMN SHOWER
AN OLD FACE
APPLE BLOSSOMS
AS THE HEART HOPES
AT NIGHTFALL
AT THE DANCE
AT THE LONG SAULT
BEFORE STORM
BEFORE STORM
BUTTERCUPS
BY AN AUTUMN FIRE
COILING UP THE HAY
COME, REST AWHILE
COMPANIONED
COMPARISONS
COULD WE BUT KNOW
DOWN HOME
DOWN STREAM
DROUGHT
ECHO
ECHO DELL
FANCIES
FAREWELL
FOR LITTLE THINGS
FOREVER
GENIUS
GRANDMOTHER’S GARDEN
GRATITUDE
HARBOR DAWN
HARBOR MOONRISE
HOME FROM TOWN
I ASKED OF GOD
I WISH YOU
IF I WERE HOME
IF LOVE SHOULD COME
IF MARY HAD KNOWN
IN AN OLD FARMHOUSE
IN AN OLD TOWN GARDEN
IN HAYING TIME
IN LILAC TIME
IN LOVERS’ LANE
IN MEMORY OF “MAGGIE”
IN PORT
IN THE DAYS OF THE GOLDEN ROD
IN TWILIGHT FIELDS
IN TWILIGHT LAND
IN UNTROD WOODS
INTERLUDE
JUNE!
LAST NIGHT IN DREAMS
LOVE’S PRAYER
MEMORY PICTURES
MIDNIGHT IN CAMP
MORNING ALONG SHORE
MY LEGACY
MY LONGSHORE LASS
NIGHT
NIGHT IN THE PASTURES
NOVEMBER DUSK
NOVEMBER EVENING
OFF TO THE FISHING GROUND
ON CAPE LE FORCE
ON THE BAY
ON THE GULF SHORE
ON THE HILLS
ONE OF THE SHEPHERDS
OUT O’ DOORS
RAIN ALONG SHORE
RAIN IN THE COUNTRY
RAIN ON THE HILL
REALIZATION
REQUIEM
SEA SUNSET
SEPTEMBER
SHORE TWILIGHT
SONG OF THE SEA-WIND
SOUTHERNWOOD,
SPRING SONG
SUCCESS
SUNRISE ALONG SHORE
THE APPLE-PICKING TIME
THE BRIDAL
THE CALL
THE CALL OF THE WINDS
THE CHOICE
THE CHRISTMAS NIGHT
THE DIFFERENCE
THE EXILE
THE FAREWELL
THE FIRST SNOWFALL
THE FOREST PATH
THE GABLE WINDOW
THE GARDEN IN WINTER
THE GRUMBLE FAMILY
THE GULLS
THE HILL MAPLES
THE LAND OF SOME DAY
THE LAST BLUEBIRD
THE LIGHT IN MOTHER’S EYES
THE LULLABY
THE MAYFLOWER’S MESSAGE
THE MOTHER
THE NEW YEAR’S BOOK
THE OLD HOME CALLS
THE OLD MAN’S GRAVE
THE ONLY WAY
THE PARTING SOUL
THE POET
THE POET’S THOUGHT
THE POND PASTURE
THE PRISONER
THE QUEST OF LAZY-LAD
THE REVELATION
THE ROVERS
THE SANDSHORE IN SEPTEMBER
THE SEA SPIRIT
THE SEA TO THE SHORE
THE SEEKER
THE TEST
THE THREE SONGS
THE TREE LOVERS
THE TRUCE O’ NIGHT
THE TWO GUESTS
THE VOYAGERS
THE WATCHMAN
THE WILD PLACES
THE WIND
THE WOOD POOL
THE WORDS I DID NOT SAY
TO MY ENEMY
TO ONE HATED
TWILIGHT
TWILIGHT AND I WENT HAND IN HAND
TWILIGHT IN ABEGWEIT
TWILIGHT IN THE GARDEN
TWO LOVES
UNRECORDED
UP IN THE POPLARS
WE HAVE SEEN HIS STAR
WHAT CHILDREN KNOW
WHEN AUTUMN COMES
WHEN THE DARK COMES DOWN
WHEN THE FISHING BOATS GO OUT
WHEN THE TIDE GOES OUT
WHICH HAS MORE PATIENCE — MAN OR WOMAN?
WHILE THE FATES SLEEP
WITH TEARS THEY BURIED YOU TO-DAY
YOU
The Non-Fiction
Montgomery’s Toronto home, her last
COURAGEOUS WOMEN
Lucy Maud Montgomery collaborated with Marian Keith and Mabel Burns McKinley on Courageous Women, published by McClelland & Stewart in 1934. Its 21 essays feature notable women who made significant impact in a variety of spheres and careers, including education, politics, the arts, medical and missionary work and in the war effort. Although Montgomery’s name appears first on the title page, she apparently wrote only three of the chapters, which appear as the first three chapters, dealing with Joan of Arc, Florence Nightingale, and Mary Slessor of Calabar.
A first edition copy of Courageous Women
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I. THE MAID OF FRANCE: JOAN OF ARC
CHAPTER II. THE ANGEL OF THE CRIMEA: FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE
CHAPTER III. THE GREAT WHITE MA: MARY SLESSOR OF CALABAR
CHAPTER IV. A BRAVE DEED: LAURA SECORD
CHAPTER V. HAPPINESS IN A LOG-CABIN: CATHARINE PARR TRAILL
CHAPTER VI. A NOBLE GIRL QUEEN: QUEEN VICTORIA
CHAPTER VII. COURAGE IN DANGER: MADELEINE DE VERCHÈRES
CHAPTER VIII. FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT: HELEN KELLER
CHAPTER IX. A FRIEND OF THE SCHOOL: ADA MAY COURTICE
CHAPTER X. THE GOLDEN CHRYSANTHEMUM: CAROLINE MACDONALD
CHAPTER XI. A LOYAL PIONEER OF THE WEST: ELIZABETH LOUISE MAIR
CHAPTER XII. CARING FOR INDIANS: ANNA J. GAUDIN
CHAPTER XIII. A WAR HEROINE: EDITH CAVELL
CHAPTER XIV. BRAVING THE WHITE NORTH: SADIE STRINGER
CHAPTER XV. CANADA’S QUEEN OF SONG: MADAME ALBANI
CHAPTER XVI. THE PRINCESS OF THE PADDLE: (TEKAHIONWAKE) PAULINE JOHNSON
CHAPTER XVII. A LEADER IN EDUCATION: ALETTA ELISE MARTY
CHAPTER XVIII. A PUPIL AT SCHOOL: DR. MARGARET MACKELLAR
CHAPTER XIX. A DAUGHTER OF THE EMPIRE: MARGARET POLSON MURRAY
CHAPTER XX. SERVICE FOR OTHERS: LADY TILLEY
CHAPTER XXI. CHAMPION OF DUMB ANIMALS: MARSHALL SAUNDERS
A portrait of Lucy Maud Montgomery
CHAPTER I. THE MAID OF FRANCE: JOAN OF ARC
Sometime around the year 1412 a little peasant maid was born in Domremy, a country village of eastern France. Before her was a strange fate. She was to live for a few brief years and in those years she was to change the current of history.
Joan’s father was a poor farmer. But there was something in the mother that might partially explain Joan. The wife of James d’Arc was nicknamed Isobel Romée—”the woman who had been to Rome.” She had sufficient religious fervor to make the long and dangerous pilgrimage to Rome to see the Pope. What that meant only those who know the condition of Europe at the time can realize.
We do not know what Joan looked like. There are more pictures of her than of any other woman except the Virgin Mary but they are all imaginary. We know she had coal-black hair and she must have been a strapping lass when she could wear the heavy armour of the period and get about in it. No slender, dreamy, ethereal maiden, such as some artists represent her, could have done that. She could plough, too, and tend sheep, as all her chums could. She was normally a gay, gallant little soul, warmhearted, impulsive, kind to the poor and sick, with a tang of humor and a bit of a temper and a ready tongue. Thus we see the little Joan of that pleasant remote valley, with the long wooded hills on either side, its white sheep, and its white stars of wild strawberry blossoms.
Joan grew up like the other little peasants of her village. She never learned to read or write, but she could spin and sew beautifully. She was a friendly lass, and liked to play with other children in the beautiful woods near the village; only when they hung garlands on the Oak of the Fairies, Joan slipped away and laid hers beneath the statues of the saints in the little village church, especially those of St. Catherine and St. Margaret. When the boys and girls ran races Joan ran, too, and outstripped them all. But times came when she liked to be quiet and pray alone in the church. And the thing she prayed for most earnestly was that God might have pity on France.
France needed it. That unhappy land was torn and distracted. For a hundred years the kings of England had been trying to conquer it. There was no king — only the heir apparent, called the Dauphin. He had never been crowned because eight years before, when Henry of England married the Princess Katherine of France, the French, worn out with ceaseless war, had agreed to accept Henry V’s son as their ruler instead of the son of their old king. But all the French were not in favor of this and soon France was divided into two parties. One was for the Dauphin. The other, including the Duke of Burgundy, sided with the English. Civil war ensued, and whichever party was temporarily uppermost, the country people were plundered. The land was full of marauding bands of soldiers. Whole towns fell into decay, and roads grew over with grass. There was no peace anywhere. Even the very children were on opposite sides and fought pitched battles — except in Domremy where everybody was in favor of the Dauphin.
But there were two things that worked against the Dauphin and his chances of ever being firmly seated on the throne of his fathers. The first was that he had never been crowned in Rheims cathedral. No Dauphin was ever held to be really King of France unless he had been anointed with the sacred oil in Rheims cathedral. But Rheims was in the power of the English and there you were. The second, and worst, was the Dauphin himself. He was anything but a hero of romance. He had spindle-shanks and a bulbous nose; he was weak and superstitious, forever blown this way and that way by all the opinions around him. He was a coward and wanted to run away to Spain or Scotland. Hardly a ruler worth fighting for, one would think. But there was something else at stake with him — the rescue of France from foreign bondage. And that was why Joan was praying for him in the little gray church in Domremy.
When Joan was thirteen she began to hear her “voices.” Scientific men have been arguing for hundreds of years about those “voices” and coming to no agreement. But there is no doubt whatever that Joan herself firmly believed she heard them. One summer day in her father’s garden she saw a great light, like a shining cloud, and a voice told her to go out and save France from the English. Later on she saw St. Catherine and St. Margaret and the Archangel Michael. And they all told her the same thing. This went on for four years.
At first she was terrified and unwilling. Like the child she was, she cried. She did not see what she could do. She was only a poor girl who could not lead soldiers to war. And things were going from bad to worse with the unlucky Dauphin. By this time he held France only south of the Loire. He was so poor he could hardly afford a new pair of boots for his ill-shaped feet. But Orléans was still true to the Dauphin and as long as he held it his case was not hopeless. The English besieged it; if they could take it they would be masters of all France. And nobody knew anything or anybody to prevent them taking it.
Enter Joan!
Joan was seventeen. In far away Domremy she heard of the siege of Orléans. Her voices kept telling her she must go and drive the English away. They told her to go to a nearby town, Vaucouleurs, and ask the commander there, Robert de Baudricourt, to send her to the Dauphin. When she saw him she was to tell him she had come to save France. Beautifully simple.
Joan went to an uncle — probably she knew if she went to her father she would be spanked. Girls of seventeen were quite often treated in that way in the France of the middle ages. She told her uncle that she must go to the Dauphin and that Robert de Baudricourt must lend her a small guard of soldiers for the journey. What is strange is that her uncle believed her. What is not strange is that Robert didn’t. He laughed at the notion and told her uncle to take the half-witted creature home and box her ears.
Joan did not stay home. She came again. Eventually Robert lent her the guard. Perhaps she had convinced him. Joan had a strange power of convincing people. Or perhaps he thought it the easiest way to get rid of her.
Joan, all through her career, showed herself to be possessed of the sort of glorified common sense which sees the right thing to do and does it. She doffed her red serge dress, cut her black hair short, and donned a boy’s suit. It was, as I have said, the sensible thing to do in such a land under such conditions, and consequently it set everyone in church and state by the ears and did more than all else to bring Joan to the stake.
