Myles Falworth was only eight years old the day a knight in black armor rode into the courtyard of his father's castle with murderous intent. Unexpectedly, it triggered a chain of events that forever changed Myles' life, culminating in an unjust accusation of treason that brought disgrace to the house of Falworth. The only hope of redeeming the family's reputation and fortunes rested on Myles' training for knighthood, so that he might challenge the king's champion and triumph in an ordeal by battle.
Set in fifteenth-century England, Men of Iron offers the finest historical fiction in the best traditions of the Knights of the Round Table and Ivanhoe . Author Howard Pyle, who wrote and illustrated many other classic Arthurian romances and stories of Robin Hood, blends fascinating period detail about knighthood and chivalry with a stirring coming-of-age tale. First published in 1892, this classic story remains a great favorite with young readers as well as among educators, due to the author's effortless way of teaching virtues such as courage, loyalty, steadfastness, and generosity. An excellent and inspiring choice to read aloud to children as young as nine, it can be read independently by 12- to 16-year-olds.
Howard Pyle was born March 5, 1853 in Wilmington, Delaware. Pyle was a Quaker and attended the Friends' School in Wilmington. At sixteen he began three years of daily commutes to Philadelphia in order to study under the Belgian artist Van der Weilen. After three years of study, he set up a studio in Wilmington and helped his father in his leather business while beginning his fledgling career as an illustrator. His earliest work was published in Scribner's Monthly in 1876. He moved to New York, where he was associated to some extent with the Art Students' league of New York City during 1876-77. His early illustrations, short stories and poems appeared in the leading New York periodicals in 1876-79. He was also an artist and writer for Harpers Weekly. Pyle's color pictures appeared in issues of Century, Everybody's and Harpers monthly magazines from 1900 to 1911.
Pyle devoted his art work almost entirely to the production of illustrations which appeared in periodicals and books. He also shared his views and skills with the student body at his 1896 classes at the Drexel Institute of Arts and Sciences in Philadelphia, his summer classes at Chadds Ford, Pennsylvania, and at his own school in Wilmington, Delaware - started in 1903. Pyle's students were to revolutionize the illustration world. Today they are collectively known as The Brandywine School.
Pyle is the author and illustrator of the following works: The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood of Nottinghamshire published in 1883; Within the Capes published in 1885; Pepper and Salt, or Seasoning for Young Folk published in 1887; The Rose of Paradise also published in 1887; The Wonder Clock or Four and Twenty Marvelous Tales published in 1888; Otto of the Silver Hand also published in 1888; A Modern Aladdin published in 1891); Men of Iron, a Romance of Chivalry published in 1892; Jack Ballister's Fortune published in 1894; Twilight Land published in 1895; and The Garden Behind the Moon published in 1895.
In 1910, Howard Pyle relocated his family to Florence, Italy where he hoped to study and pursue the painting of murals. It was his second trip abroad. On November 9 of 1911, he suddenly became ill and died of a kidney infection at the age of 58. His ashes were interred there.
(Bowker Author Biography)
Men of Iron CHAPTER 1 M yles Falworth was but eight years of age at that time, and it was only afterwards, and when he grew old enough to know more of the ins and outs of the matter, that he could remember by bits and pieces the things that afterwards happened; how one evening a knight came clattering into the court-yard upon a horse, red-nostrilled and smeared with the sweat and foam of a desperate ride--Sir John Dale, a dear friend of the blind Lord. Even though so young, Myles knew that something very serious had happened to make Sir John so pale and haggard, and he dimly remembered leaning against the knight's iron-covered knees, looking up into his gloomy face, and asking him if he was sick to look so strange. Thereupon those who had been too troubled before to notice him, bethought themselves of him, and sent him to bed, rebellious at having to go so early. He remembered how the next morning, looking out of a window high up under the eaves, he saw a great troop of horsemen come riding into the court-yard beneath, where a powdering of snow had whitened everything, and of how the leader, a knight clad in black armor, dismounted and enteredthe great hall doorway below, followed by several of the band. He remembered how some of the castle women were standing in a frightened group upon the landing of the stairs, talking together in low voices about a matter he did not understand, excepting that the armed men who had ridden into the courtyard had come for Sir John Dale. None of the women paid any attention to him; so, shunning their notice, he ran off down the winding stairs, expecting every moment to be called back again by some one of them. A crowd of castle people, all very serious and quiet, were gathered in the hall, where a number of strange men-at-arms lounged upon the benches, while two billmen in steel caps and leathern jacks stood guarding the great door, the butts of their weapons resting upon the ground, and the staves crossed, barring the door-way. In the anteroom was the knight in black armor whom Myles had seen from the window. He was sitting at the table, his great helmet lying upon the bench beside him, and a quart beaker of spiced wine at his elbow. A clerk sat at the other end of the same table, with inkhorn in one hand and pen in the other, and a parchment spread in front of him. Master Robert, the castle steward, stood before the knight, who every now and then put to him a question, which the other would answer, and the clerk write the answer down upon the parchment. His father stood with his back to the fireplace, looking down upon the floor with his blind eyes, his brows drawn moodily together, and the scar of the great wound that he had received at the tournament at York--the wound that had made him blind--showing red across his forehead, as it always did when he was angered or troubled. There was something about it all that frightened Myles, who crept to his father's side, and slid his little hand into the palm that hung limp and inert. In answer to the touch, his father grasped the hand tightly, but did not seem otherwise to notice that he was there. Neither did the black knight pay any attention to him, but continued putting his questions to Master Robert. Then, suddenly, there was a commotion in the hall without, loud voices, and a hurrying here and there. The black knight half arose, grasping a heavy iron mace that lay upon the bench beside him, and the next moment Sir John Dale himself, as pale as death, walked into the antechamber. He stopped in the very middle of the room. "I yield me to my Lord's grace and mercy," said he to the black knight, and they were the last words he ever uttered in this world. The black knight shouted out some words of command, and swinging up the iron mace in his hand, strode forward clanking towards Sir John, who raised his arm as though to shield himself from the blow. Two or three of those who stood in the hall without came running into the room with drawn swords and bills, and little Myles, crying out with terror, hid his face in his father's long gown. The next instant came the sound of a heavy blow and of a groan, then another blow and the sound of one falling upon the ground. Then the clashing of steel, and in the midst Lord Falworth crying, in a dreadful voice, "Thou traitor! thou coward! thou murderer!" Master Robert snatched Myles away from his father, and bore him out of the room in spite of his screams and struggles, and he remembered just one instant's sight of Sir John lying still and silent upon his face, and of the black knight standing above him, with the terrible mace in his hand stained a dreadful red. It was the next day that Lord and Lady Falworth and little Myles, together with three of the more faithful of their people, left the castle. His memory of past things held a picture for Myles of old Diccon Bowman standing over him in the silence of midnight with a lighted lamp in his hand, and with it a recollection of being bidden to hush when he would have spoken, and of being dressed by Diccon and one of the women, bewildered with sleep, shuddering and chattering with cold. He remembered being wrapped in the sheepskin that lay at the foot of his bed, and of being carried in Diccon Bowman's arms down the silent darkness of the winding stair-way,with the great black giant shadows swaying and flickering upon the stone wall as the dull flame of the lamp swayed and flickered in the cold breathing of the night air. Below were his father and mother and two or three others. A stranger stood warming his hands at a newly-made fire, and little Myles, as he peeped from out the warm sheepskin, saw that he was in riding-boots and was covered with mud. He did not know till long years afterwards that the stranger was a messenger sent by a friend at the King's court, bidding his father fly for safety. They who stood there by the red blaze of the fire were all very still, talking in whispers and walking on tiptoes, and Myles's mother hugged him in her arms, sheepskin and all, kissing him, with the tears streaming down her cheeks, and whispering to him, as though he could understand their trouble, that they were about to leave their home forever. Then Diccon Bowman carried him out into the strangeness of the winter midnight. Outside, beyond the frozen moat, where the osiers stood stark and stiff in their winter nakedness, was a group of dark figures waiting for them with horses. In the pallid moonlight Myles recognized the well-known face of Father Edward, the Prior of St. Mary's. After that came a long ride through that silent night upon the saddle-bow in front of Diccon Bowman; then a deep, heavy sleep, that fell upon him in spite of the galloping of the horses. When next he woke the sun was shining, and his home and his whole life were changed. All new material copyright © 2006 by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC Excerpted from Men of Iron by Howard Pyle All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.