garet. The Archangel told her she was the virgin pointed out by prophecy to save France, and conduct Charles, the lawful king, to Rheims; that she ought to make known her mission to Baudricourt, the Governor of Vaucouleurs ; and that whilst she remained pure and innocent as then, the two saints Catherine and Margaret would constantly attend upon and shield her. There is no doubt that the enthusiastic girl firmly believed in the reality of this interview. It appears, too, almost self-evident that it was neither more nor less than a vivid dream, reproducing the thoughts and images with which her waking mind was incessantly occupied. Joan spoke of this revelation to her father and mother, who heard her with serious interest, but dissuaded her from pursuing the train of ideas to which it had given birth. Her uncle was more confiding and hopeful, and ultimately-the voices in the interval having sorrowfully reproached her with lack of zeal and devotedness-accompanied her to Vaucouleurs, where he with difficulty procured an audience of the Governor. Baudricourt listened contemptuously to a peasantgirl, in a coarse red woollen dress, announcing her intention, if the opportunity were afforded her, of chasing the English from the soil of France, and conducting Charles to be crowned at Rheims. He soon rudely dismissed both uncle and niece from his presence.

Joan and her relative did not, however, quit Vaucouleurs at once; and in that credulous age, the girl's pretensions were not only eagerly canvassed, but widely credited. The Duke of Lorraine, who had been long suffering under an incurable malady, sent a message, offering a large reward if Joan would restore him to health. "I have no mission to cure diseases," she replied; "the voices never mentioned the duke's name to me." Charles at the time

was at Chinon, in Touraine, a distance of more than four hundred miles, where rumours, nevertheless, relative to the inspired maid did not fail to reach him, and a messenger was forthwith despatched to bring her to his presence. Charles's affairs were at that period in a state of absolute desperation: his exchequer was empty, his remaining troops were utterly downcast and unnerved by repeated disasters. In this extremity it doubtless occurred to him, or the more astute of his councillors, that if a belief in the maid's miraculous powers could be widely diffused, it would revive the spirit of the French, at the same time that the courage of the English soldiery would be depressed, their stubborn hardihood subdued in presence of supernatural interposition. Be this as it may, Joan obeyed the summons with joyful alacrity, assumed male attire, and, escorted by six persons only, accomplished the long and, from the state of the country, perilous journey on horseback, in perfect safety-a piece of good fortune, in itself deemed almost miraculous. Charles received her at Fierbois, a place at some distance from Chinon, in a magnificent banqueting-hall, lighted by numerous torches, and thronged by upwards of a hundred knights, many of whom were splendidly accoutred. Charles himself was as plainly habited as possible, and took his station among the least distinguished of the mailed auditory. Joan, it is said, recognised him instantly and without hesitation. "God give you good life, gentle king," she said, approaching Charles, and bending her knee. "It is not I who am the king," he replied. "In the name of God, it is you, and no other!" rejoined the girl; adding, "I am Joan, the maid sent on the part of God to aid you and the kingdom, and by His order I announce to you that you will be crowned in the city of Rheims." Joan's first appearance having proved suc

cessful, she was the next day clothed in light, brilliant armour, and presented on horseback to the people. Practice with her father's horses had made her a good and fearless rider; and a slight, graceful figure, a wonderfully expressive countenance, black lustrous hair, falling in thick tresses upon her shoulders, must have given to this young maiden, at that time in her seventeenth year, an imposing appearance; and as she proceeded in state, attended by nobles and knights, with all the pomp and circumstance of war, the people crowded after her with acclamations, implicitly believing in the truth of her celestial mission.

All this, as far as Charles and his advisers were concerned, may have been practice; but Joan's sincerity— the sincerity of an over-excited imagination, if you willcannot be questioned. It may be, too, that it was for the purpose of enhancing the prestige she had already acquired, that high-placed clerical and civil dignitaries affected a dread that her mission might be derived from the Evil One, and caused her to be cited before the Parliament of Poictiers, to disprove, if possible, her alleged complicity with infernal powers. Joan confronted the tribunal without fear and without bravado; and in answer to a request that she would make a demonstration of her power by performing a miracle, said, "The only miracle I am empowered to work is the raising of the siege of Orleans." And to one who quoted texts of Scripture against her, she answered: "There are more things in my Lord's book than in yours." She firmly re-asserted that she had not only heard the voice of the Archangel, but seen his form with her bodily eyes; "and when he vanished, I wept that he had not taken me with him:" and she was finally decreed to be a true and pious daughter of Holy Church, and a special messenger from

Heaven. This formality over, Joan was solemnly invested with the command of the forces assembled for the relief of Orleans; and having first girded on, with much imposing ceremonial, a miraculous sword, opportunely found buried beneath the altar of the chapel at Fierbois, and provided herself with a white banner, blazoned with the figure of Christ sitting in Judgment, and inscribed with the words "Jesus: Maria," began the exercise of her authority by ordering all bad characters to leave the camp, and bidding the soldiers attend mass, and confess themselves. This accomplished, Joan insisted that the troops should march to the attack by the right bank of the Loire, directly through the besieging forces. The English were garrisoned in bastiles, or forts, which, except at the river approaches, encircled the devoted city. This order, in a purely military sense, was so absurd, that Dunois, whilst feigning to acquiesce, quietly disobeyed it, and the men embarked in boats for the left bank, where the attack could be made with some slight chance of success. The wind and current baffled this attempt, and Joan's plan was, perforce, adopted. It proved entirely successful. The English soldiery, it was found, believed as firmly in Joan's supernatural powers as the French themselves; the only difference being that they imagined her to be an instrument of hell, not Heaven-an envoy of the devil, not of God. This difference of opinion did not at all diminish their disinclination to encounter the diabolical champion of the French with merely mortal weapons; and they kept within their forts, hurling only anathemas at the relieving forces, which entered the city with Joan at their head, in jubilant triumph, amidst the ringing of bells, firing of ordnance, and the shoutings of the

citizens, by whom the "Maid of Orleans," as she was now called, was almost deified.

We cannot in these pages relate the victorious assaults upon the encircling forts, ending with that of Tournelles, in all of which the Maid of Orleans was the soul of the enterprise; leading, exhorting, rallying her soldiers, and herself fighting with the vigour of a man-at-arms and the enthusiasm of a Crusader. The Duke d'Alençon, a soldier of repute, assured Talbot, that although simple as a child in all matters unconnected with the profession of arms, Jeanne Darc was an expert warrior, alike in handling the lance, the disposition of troops, and the employment of artillery. It is certain, nevertheless, that till success had vindicated her pretensions, the French commanders held her martial genius in very slight esteem, and that it was no fault of theirs that she was present at the storming of the Bastile of Saint Loup, her first actual battle. M. de Barante, quoting from the deposition of D'Aulon, her esquire, relates the circumstance as follows:- "The day had been a weary one, and Joan, throwing herself on her bed, tried to sleep, but could not do so from perturbation of mind. All of a sudden she sprang up, and called out to the Sire D'Aulon that her council (Saints Catherine and Margaret) told her to march against the English; but she did not know whether it should be against their bastiles, or against Fascot (Falstaff), and desired D'Aulon to arm her. He began accordingly to do so. During this time she heard a great noise in the street, the cry being that the enemy were destroying the French. 'My God!' she exclaimed, 'the blood of our people is flowing! Why was I not wakened sooner? Oh, that was ill done! My arms! my arms! my horse!' Leaving behind her esquire, who had