The imbecile Charles had breathed his last. The victorious Henry had also been snatched away by the unsparing hand of the destroyer. Paris and the northern provinces were, however, held for the young Henry VI., by his uncle, the brave Duke of Bedford. Charles VII. could only establish his court on the southern bank of the Loire; and even there he scarcely felt his position secure. "Le petit Roi de Bourges," was the name contemptuously given to him by the English. Charles "le Victorieux, "Charles "le Bien Servi," were titles which he could triumphantly claim, not many years later. His wondrous success is to be ascribed, not to his personal exertions, for he was, as has been intimated, indolent and excessively addicted to pleasure, but to the discriminating wisdom, or rather instinct, with which he chose his counsellors. He had the art, or the good luck, to gather around him and attach to his cause the greatest captains of the age, and the wisest and most far-sighted politicians; and, notwithstanding his indolent habits, had the good sense to profit by their counsels and services. We have only to mention the names of "the brave Dunois," the Comte de Richemont, La-Hire, Saintrailles, &c., who conducted his military operations; in the diplomatic department the sagacious Yolande of Anjou, Jacques Boureau, and his brother Gaspard, who created for him the most effective artillery in Europe; and in finance, that most skilful of exchequer-chancellors, Jacques Cœur.

Yolande seems to have understood fully the character of her son-in-law. She knew him to be of an affectionate and trusting nature, and peculiarly sensitive to the refined charms of female society. He was capable of appreciating all that is excellent in the character of woman-her heroismher generous abnegation of self-her enduring devotion. Yolande artfully

availed herself of these influences. Unseen herself, she was, as we have already observed, the guiding hand which influenced Charles throughout his entire career, and through him the destinies of France. Her daughter, Queen Marie, was a very superior woman, amiable, accomplished, generous, and gentle; but she never pos sessed her husband's affections, though her conduct secured his esteem and respect. Stimulated by her mother,

she strenuously laboured to make the King lay aside his besetting sin of indolence, and act with vigour against the English. Fortune seemed invariably to desert the banner of the lawful sovereign, and Charles found his best generals and bravest troops so often defeated that his friends lost hope and confidence, and his dispirited soldiery deserted their colours.

While the Dauphin remained inactive at Chinon, Orleans, his principal stronghold on the Loire, was closely invested by the English. Dunois, and others of his brave adherents, had thrown themselves into the beleaguered city; but with slender hope of making a successful resistance to the besieging host. In this extremity of Charles'sor rather of Yolande's-fortunes (for it was she who in truth had so far fought the battle of French independence) another still more heroic Frenchwoman suddenly appeared on the stage. Commissioned from on high, as she believed to rescue her native land from foreign invaders-to raise the siege of Orleans, and see her King crowned at Rheims-Jeanne D'Arc, the simple shepherd-girl of Domremi, presented herself to Charles at Chinon. Yolande saw, and at a glance comprehended her enthusiasm. Perhaps, too, she credited her mission: at all events, she sympathised in her patriotic fervour; and lost no time in communicating a share of her sympathy to Charles. Jeanne's divine commission was recog nized. Accoutred in armour, and girt

with the sword of Saint Catherine de Fierbois, she threw herself into Orleans. Her enthusiasm, her pious fervour, and her conviction of a triumphant accomplishment of her mission, inspired the garrison with new courage. Now here, now there; successive sallies from the beleagured city fell with the speed and destruction of lightning on the English outposts. A being partaking of the character of an angel and a prophetess headed these unexpected and terrible attacks. The superstitious terrors of the English were alarmed. Seven days after Jeanne entered Orleans, the siege was raised, and the English were in full retreat towards the Seine. far, the mission sped prosperously; she had now to retrieve her undertak ing to see Charles placed on the throne of his ancestors in the old kingly capital of Rheims; but to carry him thither

So

through a hostile country, every stronghold of which was in the hands of his enemies, was even a more difficult achievement than the relief of Orleans. However, Jeanne's own belief in her preternatural mission had now spread far and wide, and those who at first had probably used her as an adventuress, now followed her as a heaveninspired guide. The expedition to Rheims was undertaken-every obstacle gave way before the enthusiasm of Charles's followers. Rheims, after a progress as triumphant as dangerous, was gained; and the consecrated oil, which would insure the validity of his title in the eyes of all true Frenchmen, was at length poured on the head of King Charles the Seventh. Charles kneeled by the high altar, Jeanne "la Pucelle" stood by his side, leaning on her snow-white banner, spotted with the fleur-de-lis of France, on which was represented the Saviour of the world, with the simple inscription, Jhesus Maria. "It had shared the danger," she said; "it was meet that it should share the glory."

As

There are probably few persons who are not familiar with that exquisite impersonation of Jeanne D'Arc, for which we are indebted to the chisel of a second "Maid of Orleans." The princess Marie of Wirtemberg, daugh ter to the ex-King of the French, has represented her in the garb so minutely described by contemporary writers,

armée tout en blanc, sauf la teste, une petite hache en sa main ;" leaning on the sword in form of the cross; her fair head bowed, and her features expressing resolution, blended with repose. Her mission was now accomplished; she fell at her monarch's feet bathed in tears. Gentil roi," she said, addressing him, "orest exécuté le plaisir de Dieu, qui voulait que vous vinssiez à Rheims, recevoir votre digne sacre, pour montrer que vous êtes vrai roi, et celui auquel doit appartenir le royaume.'

66

Jeanne now longed to return to her simple pastoral life, and her native village. She confided her wishes to Dunois. "Je voudrais bien que le gentil roi voulût me faire ramener auprès de mes père et mère qui auraient tant de joie à me revoir. Je garderais leurs brebis et bétail, et ferais ce que j'avais coutume de faire." The only acknowledgment of her services which she demanded, was the exemption from

VOL. XXXVI.-NO. CCXI.

taxation of her native village. Until the revolution of 1793, Neant à cause de la Pucelle was entered opposite the name of Domremi, in the books of the taxing officer for that district of Lorraine. But alas! for Jeanne; a far different destiny awaited her. The market-place of Rouen witnessed a tragedy which, merely to read of, has drawn iron tears" from many a manly breast. The pure, the meek heroine, who had done such great things for "the pity" she had for the realm of France, was here to expiate the crime of patriotism by the punishment of witchcraft. Her infamous judge, Cauchon, Bishop of Beauvais, condemned her to be burnt alive. "Helas!" she exclaimed, when she heard her sentence, reduire en cendres mon corps qui est pur, et n'a rien de corrompu, c'est un horrible supplice!" As the priest who attended her dismounted from the scaffold, when the executioner was about to apply his torch, she said to him, "Tenez-vous en bas, levez la croix devant moi, que je la voie en mourant, et dites-moi de pieuses paroles jusqu'à la fin." Her last utterance

was,

"Jésus!"

Chinon, where Charles held his little court, is a place familiar, at least by name, to most of us, its castle being a favourite residence of our English sovereigns of the race of Plantagenet. Its situation is picturesque and imposing; planted on an elevated platform of rock overhanging the Loire, and commanding its junction with the Vienne, surrounded by the verdant woods and rich pasture-land of Touraine, the "garden of France." The ruins, which are considerable in extent, are of great interest, recalling the stirring times of the crusaders, and, a few centuries later, the wrongs and suffer. ings of the Knights Templars, whose grand master, the heroic Jacques de Molay, was immolated within its walls. The adjoining monastery of Fontevrault-founded by the devoted enthu siast, Robert D'Arbrissol, who, following the example of his Divine Master, preached repentance and forgiveness to the "chiefest of sinners;" and by his eloquent and heartfelt exhortations reclaimed from vice innumerable Magdalens, miserable outcasts from society, and hopeless, until he proclaimed to them the message of mercy, of forgiveness from God or man,-this noble and beautiful house of Fontevrault con

tains the mortal remains of the heroic Coeur-de-Lion.

At a short distance fro:n Chinon stood the Maison Robardeau. This was now to become the residence of Agnès Sorel. The scandal of that day reported, and possibly with truth, that Robardeau was connected with the castle where the monarch held his court, by an underground passage.

Charles possessed many qualities which fitted him to captivate the imagination and win the affections of a young and susceptible heart. His features were regular, beautiful alike in form and expression; though his tout ensemble was not effective from his want of height. He had a heart warm and devoted, manners gay and fascinating, a mind well cultivated, and elegant tastes. He was personally brave, though his love of pleasure, as well as a natural prudence, deterred him on many occasions from leading his armies in person to battle or victory. But, above all, he had at first sight conceived, and always afterwards cherished for the fair Agnès, an impassioned and unswerving attachment, which ended only with life. The young girl long resisted his suit, though she also loved in return; but she was in the midst of influences and inducements, such as perhaps never before or since solicited a woman to dishonour, and her weak woman's heart at last yielded.

When Agnès Sorel forfeited the approval of conscience-the calm dignity of her hitherto pure and spotless lifeshe forfeited also the happiness she had till then enjoyed. Never more, after such a fall, does Nature unfold her charms, as in the days of bright childhood, or happy and innocent girlhood

"As I wandered free,

In every field for me

Its thousand flowers were blowing:
A veil through which I did not see-
A thin veil, o'er the world was thrown,
In every bud, a mystery;
Magic, in every thing unknown.
The field, the air, the grove was haunted,
And all that age has disenchanted.
Yes! give me give me back the days of
youth,

Poor, yet how rich!-my glad inheritance,
The inextinguishable love of truth,
While life's realities were all romance."

-now the murky shadows of sin have obscured the happy vision-conscious

guilt is the great disenchanter. How keenly Agnès felt her position, is evinced by the brief records of her words and feelings which have been handed down in history. Of her deathbed penitence we shall speak hereafter. Yet she had everything in the present, if we except the approval of her con. science, to make life dear to her. He whom she loved so fondly, and to whom she had dedicated her entire existence, repaid by the most fervent and constant devotion the sacrifice she had made for his sake. France, perhaps, an almost equal object of adoration, sprang up in freedom and power under the administration which she helped to guide. No woman was ever more truly loved. For twenty years until death separated themCharles never swerved in his attachment for his "good and gentle Agnès." The honours and splendours of this world were lavishly showered on her; yet she "bore her faculties so meekly," that she made no enemies, but could boast of many, and faithful friends. The Queen loved her as a sister. The contemporary chroniclers vie with one another in eulogising her wisdom and goodness-some of them, in their zeal for her virtue, denying even the nature of her connexion with the King. Allpowerful and beloved, she could find but one faint consolation for the loss of her innocence-promoting the happiness of others, and exercising her vast influence with the King for the honour of her country, by urging him to complete the emancipation of his kingdom from its foreign foes. At the time when his fortunes were most desperate, she had placed at his disposal all her wealth, in jewels or money, for the payment of his troops.

happy. This jealous, crafty, intriguing young man, "mauvais fils, mauvais père, mauvais frerè, mauvais sujet, mauvais allié, mauvais mari, et ennemi dangereux," was indeed ill-matched with the ardent, susceptible, and romantic Scottish princess. Margaret found her sole happiness in the mutual affection which subsisted between her, her mother-in-law, and the gentle Agnès. These high-souled women passed many blissful hours together, cultivating those elegant tastes in which they alike found solace and enjoyment. Margaret in particular had inherited from her father, the royal poet of Scotland, a genius and feeling for this refining art. She spent her nights in composing ballads, which seem to have been not unworthy of the daughter of him who sang "The King's Quhair." Her patronage of men of genius was liberal and discriminating. A little incident connected with Alain Chartier may be worth recording. Passing through one of the saloons in the palace, she perceived the poet asleep on a chair. To the astonishment of the ladies who attended her, she softly approached him, and kissed his lips. In reply to their amazed glances she said to them:-"Ce n'est point à l'homme que jai donné un baisir, c'est à la bouche d'où sortent de si belles paroles."

Soon after her marriage her royal father, too enlightened for a barbarous age, perished the victim of a villanous treachery. Here, too, we are among the records of the loyalty and heroism of women. It was in resisting the approach of James's assassins that the noble Catherine Douglas thrust her own fair arm into the bolt-rings of the door, and kept it so fastened until the brutal murderers broke the bone. Margaret herself bade adieu to life ere she had attained her twenty-first year. Young as she was, existence had long been distasteful to her. She has been accused of having voluntarily injured her health by eating in excess unripe fruits and other acids, with the design of preventing herself from becoming the mother of children to so hateful a husband. In her last illness, when those around her expressed hopes of her recovery, she shudderingly exclaimed, "Fi de la vie, qu'on ne m'en parle plus!"

The death of the hapless Dauphiness deeply impressed the mind of

Agnès Sorel, who, soon after, asked and obtained permission from the King to retire from court. She chose for the scene of her seclusion the castle which Charles had built for her in the neighbourhood of Loches, and in the architectural details of which may yet

A

Ꮮ

be seen the device (A Sur-elle), which identifies it with her name. She selected it in preference to her more picturesque château of Beautè Sur Marne-that romantic spot, formerly the favourite retreat of the murdered Louis of Orleans, father to her friend the Count de Dunois-because she proposed to herself to spend the remaining years of her life in devotional exercises; and in the canons of Loches -to whose cathedral she had ever proved a liberal patroness-she hoped to find pious and worthy instructors.

Agnès Sorel was still in the prime of life-she was thirty-six when she voluntarily parted from her royal and still faithful lover. She had the consolation of reflecting that, during the fifteen years she had influenced his mind and his counsels, she had been the disinterested advocate of all that was "worthy and of good report." She left him surrounded by tried and faithful friends, most of them attached to his cause by her influence and exertions. Jacques Cour, the goldsmith of Bourges whose vast monetary resources, acquired by his trade in the East, through her instrumentality had been placed at the disposal of the monarch, and had mainly conduced to the successful issue of his warlike undertakings-was her tried and dearest friend. She had named him the execator of her will, in which she had devised all her wealth to pious uses. For five years longer she was all-powerful with the King, who frequently visited her, and took counsel with her on affairs of state. His peace during these years was disturbed by the machinations of the Dauphin, who took every possible opportunity of annoying his father, and thwarting his pro jects. One grievance, on which he frequently insisted-his only real onewas the insult shown to his mother by the elevation of Agnès Sorel, towards whom he manifested an irreconcileable hostility. As for the meek Queen, when reminded of her wrongs, she would only answer, "C'est mon seigneur; il a tout pouvoir sur mes actions,