Dao, Gun, Jian and Quiang are the 4 principal standard fighting weapons of China. Even even though, the Chinese had already invented gunpowder by the end of the tenth century. So in addition to of obtaining an arsenal of swords, spears, sabres, crossbows and bow and arrows, the Chinese military could also choose from cannons, rockets, mines and even handheld firearms. Nevertheless, close combat would remain the favoured means of battle for a long time. All about the history of Chinas weaponry now on It’s HISTORY!
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Lu Gwei-Djen, Joseph Needham and Phan Chi-Hsing (1988): The Oldest Representation of a Bombard. In:
Technology and Culture 29 (3), pp. 594-605
Needham, Joseph (1986): Science and Civilization in China. Volume 5, Chemistry and Chemical Technology, Component 7, Military Technologies the Gunpowder Epic. Taipei
Tittmann, Wilfried/ Nibler, Ferdinand & John, Wolfgang ()
Salpeter und Salpetergewinnung im Übergang vom Mittelalter zur Neuzeit: http://www.ruhr-uni-bochum.de/technikhist/tittmann/4%20Salpeter.pdf
Wang Ling (1947): On the Invention and Use of Gunpowder and Firearms in China. In: Isis 37 (three/four), 160-178
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Image from page 374 of “Exactly where ghosts stroll : the haunts of familiar characters in history and literature” (1898)
Title: Exactly where ghosts walk : the haunts of familiar characters in history and literature
Year: 1898 (1890s)
Authors: Harland, Marion, 1830-1922
Publisher: New York : G. P. Putnam
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN
Click here to view book on the internet to see this illustration in context in a browseable on-line version of this book.
Text Appearing Prior to Image:
bureau), shut up box and drawer, reclosed, re- 290 Exactly where Ghosts Walk locked the dormitory, and descended toclassc, feeling as if fairy-tales were correct,and fairy gifts no dream. The dormitory, exactly where we select her own casement out of which she leanedon summer time evenings, as ever solitary, tolook out upon the gay little city, and hearthe band play in the park, pondering imply-time my personal thoughts, living my own lifein my own nonetheless shadow-planet. We open the casement to see the ledgeon which she sat via the thunder-storm that awoke all the sleepers in thedormitory. Although the rest knelt aroundthe evening-lamp, praying aloud, she re-mained with no, upon her perch, her feetupon the roof of a reduce adjoining create- It was wet, it was wild, it was pitch-dark. I could not go in. Too resistlesswas the delight of staying with the wildhour, black, and complete of thunder, pealingout such an ode as lanoruaore never ever deliv-ered to man. The attic was no pleasant spot, wequote in English on entering what is
Text Appearing Following Image:
In Villctte 291 gained by one more flight of stairs. Insummer weather it was hot as Africa, inwinter it was always cold as Greenland.Well was it known to be tenanted by rats,by black beetles and by cockroaches—nay, rumour affirmed that the ghostlyNun of the garden had once been seenthere. The sub-teachers laugh is as prepared aslight. She has caught the sense of thelast words. Tripping more than the dusty,echoing floor, she points to a modest win-dow or glazed trap-door in the slopingroof, dim and cobwebby, for the attic isdisused now, even as a lumber space : Par /<i/ she says, and we see thatthe trick of the pseudo ghost is identified toher. Lucy did not think in the Nun whenshe opened the skylight, dragged alarge, empty chest beneath it, and, hav-ing mounted upon a smaller sized box, as-cended this species of extempore throne,and began the study of the element forcedupon her by the remorseless Professor.But she saw the apparition on the winter 292 Exactly where Ghosts Stroll night when she sought the deep, bl
Note About Photos
Please note that these photos are extracted from scanned page pictures that might have been digitally enhanced for readability – coloration and look of these illustrations could not perfectly resemble the original perform.
By Web Archive Book Pictures on 1898-01-01 00:00:00
Envision that you are a lady born in a country exactly where war has been going on for 22 years. Your parents are poor, illiterate peasants. As you develop up, a dozen people you know starve each and every winter. On numerous days, you have to go hungry oneself.
You go to the only old man alive in your village and you ask him questions. “Was life often like this? Was there a time when factors had been greater?” The old man tells you that, years ago, before invaders arrived, there was peace and freedom.
On your eighteenth birthday, your village is attacked. Your older sister is raped and killed before your eyes, but you manage to escape. That’s the day when you choose that you want to change the globe. If only you knew how.
That evening, you have nightmares about your sister. You wake up in the dark with your body trembling with fever. Then you close your eyes once more, praying that you die prior to dawn.
Suddenly, you see a light above you. Did you fall asleep again? Is this one more nightmare? You hear a voice call your name. Who is that? The voice tells you that you, Jeanne, will finish the war.
“I am going to set our nation cost-free,” you announce to your parents the next morning. They shake their heads and inform you to drink your milk. Soon after doing your chores, you walk to the village church and explain to the priest that you, Jeanne, are going to finish the war.
The village priest does not listen to you and tells you to go residence, but you can’t be stopped. The next day, you walk to the nearby garrison and ask to see the commander. You inform him that you know how to liberate the country and place an finish to the war.
At the beginning, the commander calls you foolish and laughs at you, but the fury in your eyes makes him stand nevertheless. “Take me to the King,” you demand. “He will listen to me.”
A week later, you arrive at the King’s castle escorted by four knights. “Who is this girl?” the King asks dismissively, looking at your dirty ragged garments. “Is she coming right here to beg?”
“My name is Jeanne, Sire,” you reply, “and I am the a single who will end the war.” You hear mocking comments behind your back, but your determination has made the King curious. “I am the one who will set our nation cost-free,” you continue. “I have come to ask you to give me an army.”
“Send her away,” the court advisers whisper to the King. “She is just a crazy girl.” The King nods to a guard, instructing him to throw you out of the castle. That is when you raise your voice. “If you do not do as I inform you, Sire, the nation will be lost and you will be dead before the finish of the year.”
Astonished by your boldness, the guard turns to the King and asks if you are to be punished for uttering a threat. You stand alone, undaunted, in the middle of the space, waiting for the King’s answer.
“What if she is telling the truth?” wonders the King. He knows very effectively that his scenario is desperate. Orleans, his remaining bastion, is about to fall to the invaders. Right after some hesitation, he provides you a hundred soldiers, his reserve troops, mostly middle-aged guys.
You and your men march towards Orleans and scurry inside for the duration of the night. At dawn, you see rats in the streets. Nobody is bothering to bury corpses any more, because there are just as well several. Those who are nevertheless alive have given up all hope.
“My name is Jeanne,” you shout as you climb on a wagon in front of the church. “I have come to set Orleans totally free and end the war.” Wounded, hungry males and ladies start to congregate about the wagon. “Who is that girl?” they ask themselves. “What is she speaking about?”
The next days, Orleans citizens mobilize their final energies. Stones are taken from each home in order to be employed as projectiles for the catapult. Each and every piece of wood is turned into arrows. Boys choose up swords, females heat up oil. What ever food is left is shared amongst all.
The decisive battle takes place on the tenth day after your arrival. Everyone able to stand on his feet takes up position behind the parapet that defends Orleans. The bastion doors open and the invaders watch in awe how a girl is major the defenders outside, prepared to fight.
In the course of the next seven hours, defenders turn into attackers. Arrows and stones on fire decimate the invader’s army. What seemed unbelievable, occurs. The citizens of Orleans crush their enemies. By the end of the day, invaders retreat from the region.
In 1428, Jeanne of Arc, an eighteen-year old girl, turned about a desperate predicament and changed the course of History. Was her vision a hallucination brought on by higher fever? We know small about Jeanne’s vision, but every little thing about her determination.
Are you sceptical? Do you think that the story of Jeanne of Arc has no application to your life? “Crises of the previous are long gone and our existing issues are diverse,” I hear you argue. “We can not reside in old History.” I totally agree. It really is up to us to write our personal.
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John Vespasian has lived in New York, Madrid, Paris, and Munich. His stories reflect the values of entrepreneurship, tolerance, and self-reliance. See John Vespasian’s weblog at http://johnvespasian.blogspot.com/