by his mother-in-law, Yolande of Aragon, who warmly
espoused her cause, listened readily to the maiden’s
voice; and as that voice urged only what was noble
and pure, she carried conviction as she went.
In the end she received the King’s commission
to undertake the relief of Orleans. Her coming
was fresh blood to the defence; a new spirit seemed
to be poured out on all her followers, and in like
manner a deep dejection settled down on the English.
The blockade was forced, and, in eight days the besiegers
raised the siege and marched away. They withdrew
to Jargeau, where they were attacked and routed with
great loss. A little later Talbot himself, who
had marched to help them, was also defeated and taken.
Then, compelling Charles to come out from his in glorious
ease, she carried him triumphantly with her to Rheims,
where he was duly crowned King, the Maid of Orldans
standing by, and holding aloft the royal standard.
She would gladly have gone home to Domremy now, her
mission being accomplished; for she was entirely free
from all ambitious or secondary aims. But she
was too great a power to be spared. Northern
France was still in English hands, and till the English
were cast out her work was not complete; so they made
her stay, sweet child, to do the work which, had there
been any manliness in them, they ought to have found
it easy to achieve for themselves. The dread
of her went before her,—a pillar of cloud
and darkness to the English, but light and hope to
her countrymen. Men believed that she was called
of God to regenerate the world, to destroy the Saracen
at last, to bring in the millennial age. Her
statue was set up in the churches, and crowds prayed
before her image as before a popular saint.
The incapacity and ill-faith of those round the King
gave the English some time to recover themselves;
Bedford and Burgundy drew together again, and steps
were taken to secure Paris. When, however, Jeanne,
weary of courtly delays, marched, contemptuous of the
King, as far as St. Denis, friends sprang up on every
side. In Normandy, on the English line of communications,
four strong places were surprised; and Bedford, made
timid as to his supplies, fell back to Rouen, leaving
only a small garrison in Paris. Jeanne, ill-supported
by the royal troops, failed in her attack on the city
walls, and was made prisoner by the Burgundians; they
handed her over to the English, and she was, after
previous indignities, and such treatment as chivalry
alone could have dealt her, condemned as a witch,
and burnt as a relapsed heretic at Rouen in 1431.
Betrayed by the French Court, sold by the Burgundians,
murdered by the English, unrescued by the people of
France which she so much loved, Jeanne d’Arc
died the martyr’s death, a pious, simple soul,
a heroine of the purest metal. She saved her
country, for the English power never recovered from
the shock. The churchmen who burnt her, the Frenchmen
of the unpatriotic party, would have been amazed could
they have foreseen that nearly 450 years afterwards,
churchmen again would glorify her name as the saint
of the Church, in opposition to both the religious
liberties and the national feelings of her country.