The banner 1 d Tillies. On their way they march,



V. 247

And dim in distance, soon the towers of Chinon
Fade from the eye reverted.

The sixth sun,
Purpling the sky with his dilated light,
Sunk westering ; when embosomed in the depth
Of that old forest, that for many a league
Shadows the hills and vales of Orleannois,
They pitch their tents. The hum of occupation
Sounds ceaseless. Waving to the evening gale,
The streamers wanton ; and, ascending slow
Beneath the foliage of the forest trees,
With many a light hue tinged, the curling smoke
Melts in the impurpled air. Leaving her tent,
The martial Maiden wander'd thro' the wood ;
There, by a streamlet, on the mossy bank
Reclined, she saw a damsel -, her long locks
With willow wreathed - } upon her lap, there lay
A dark-hair'd man, listening as she did sing
Sad ditties, and enwreathe to bind his brow
The melancholy garland. At the sound



V. 248

Of one in arms approaching, she had fled $

But Conrade, looking upward, recogniz'd

The Maid of Arc. f< Nay fear not, Isabel,

Said he, " for this is one of gentle kind,

" Whom even the wretched need not fear to love.*'

So saying, he arose and took her hand,
And held it to his bosom. *' My weak heart,
u Tho' school' d by wrongs to loath at human kind,
re Will beat, rebellious to its own resolves.
, ft Come hither outcast One ! and call her friend,
" And she shall be thy friend more readily
" Because thou art unhappy."

Isabel'
Saw a tear starting in the Virgin's eye,
And glancing upon Conrade, she too wept,
Wailing his wilder' d senses.

" Mission'd Maid !"
The warrior cried, " be happy ! for thy power
" Can make this sufferer so. From Orleans driven.



V. 249

<c Orphan'd by war, and of her only friend

f{ Bereft, I found her wandering in the wilds,

' ( Worn out with want and wretchedness .Thou, JO A N,

" Wilt his beloved to the youth restore ;

" And, trust me Maid ! the miserable feet

" When they on others bestow happiness,

" High joys and soul-ennobling."

She replied,
Pressing the damsel's hand, in the mild tone,
Of equal friendship, solacing her cares.
u Soon shall we enter Orleans," said the Maid;
" A few hours in her dream of victory
<( England shall triumph; then to be awaked
" By the loud thunder of Almighty wrath !
(( Irksome meantime the busy camp to me
€< A solitary woman. Isabel,
" Wert thou the while companion of my tent,
" Lightlier the time would pass. Return with me,
<( I may not long be absent.''

So she spake.



V. 250

The wanderer in half-uttered words express'd

Grateful assent. tc Art thou astonish' d Maid,

<e That one tho' powerful is benevolent?

" In truth thou well mayest wonder !" Conrade cried.

u But little cause to love the mighty ones

" Has the low cottager ! for with its shade

u Doth Power, a barren death-dew-dropping tree,

" Blast ev'ry herb beneath its baleful boughs !

u Tell thou thy sufferings Isabel ! Relate

u How warr'd the chieftains, and the people died.

94 The mission'd Virgin hath not heard thy woes,

" And pleasant to mine ear the twice-told tale

" Of sorrow."

Gazing on the martial Maid
She read her wish and spake. (S A wanderer now
u Friendless and hopeless, still I love to think
" Upon my native home, and call to mind
" Each haunt of careless youth 5 the woodbin'd wall,
fr The jessamine that round the straw-roof *d cot
§t Its fragrant branches wreath'd, beneath whose shade



V. 251

" I wont to sit and watch the setting sun

<r And hear the redbreast's lay. Nor far remote

" As o'er the subject landskip round I gazed,

tx The towers of Yenwell rose upon the view.

<f A foreign master holds my father's home !

" I, far away, remember the past years,

" And weep.

" Two brethren form'd our family ;
u Humble we were, and happy. Honest toil
f »' Procur'd our homely sustenance $ our herds
" Duly at morn and evening to my hand
" Gave their full stores ; the vineyard he had rear'd
" Purpled its clusters in the southern sun,
" And, plenteous produce of my father's toil,
M The yellow harvest billow' d o'er the plain.
" How chearful seated round the blazing hearth
*' When all the labour of the day was done,
" We past the evening hours ! for they would sing
u Or chearly roundelay, or ditty sad
" Of maid forsaken and the willow weed.



V. 252

<c Or of the doughty Paladins of France,,

" Some warlike fit, the while my spinning wheel

<( Humm'd not unpleasing round !"

" Thus long we lived,
" And happy. To a neighbouring youth my hand
" In holy wedlock soon to be confln'd
" Was plighted : my poor Francis :" Here shepaus'd,
And here she wept awhile.

ce We did not dream
" The desolating sword of War would stoop
" To us j but soon as with the whirlwind's speed
<( Ruin * rush'd round us. Mehun, Clery, fell,
" The banner'd Leopard wav'd on Gergeau's wall;



* " To succeed in the siege of Orleans, the English first

secured the neighbouring places, which might otherwise have

annoyed the besiegers. The months of August and September

were spent in this work. During that space they took Mehun,

Baugenci, Gergeau, Clery, Sully, Jenville, and some other

small towns, and at last appeared before Orleans on the 12th

©f October."

Rap in.



V. 253

u Baugenci yielded ; soon the foe approach'd
cc The towers of Yenville."

" Fatal was tlie hour
<e To wretched Isabel : for from the wall
cc The rusty sword was taken , and the shield
" That long had mouldered on the mouldering nail,
" To meet the war repair'd. No more was heard
u The ballad, or the merry roundelay -,
ft The clattering hammer's clank, the grating file
" Harsh sounded thro' the day a dismal din.
( ' I never shall forget their mournful sound !

' ' My father stood encircling his old limbs
" In long forgotten arms. " Come boys," he cried,
" I did not think that this grey head again
" Should bear the helmet's weight ! but in the field
" Better to boldly die a soldier's death,
« Than here be tamely butcher'd. Isabel,
" Go to the Abbey : if we should survive
« We soon shall meet again : if not, my child,

VOL. I. *I



u There is a better world !"

" In broken words
g€ Lifting his looks to Heaven, my father breath'd
u His blessing on me. As they strode away,
<e My brethren gazed on me and wrung my hand
<( In silence, for they lov d their Isabel.
" From the near cottage Francis join'd the troop.
<( Then did I look on our forsaken home,
u And almost sob my very soul away !
€C For all my hopes of happiness were fled,
€< Like a vain dream !"

*' Perish these mighty ones/'
Cried Corifade, " these prime ministers of death,
" Who stalk elated o'er their fields of fame,
*' And count the thousands they have massacred, *
ge And with the bodies of the innocent, rear
u Their pyramid of glory ! perish these,
" The epitome of all the pestilential plagues
u That Egypt knew ! who pour their locust swarms
u O'er ravaged realms, and bid the brooks run blood.



V. Z55

ct Fear and Destruction go before their path,

e< And Famine dogs their footsteps. God of Justice,

" Let not the innocent blood cry out in vain !"

Thus whilst he spake the murmur of the camp
Rose on their ear : first like the distant sound
When the full-foliaged forest to the storm
Shakes its hoarse head : anon with louder din ;
And thro' the opening glade gleamed many a fire.
The virgin's tent they enter'd ; there the board
Was spread, the wanderer of the fare partook,
Then thus her tale renew'd.

" Slow o'er the hill
cc Whose rising head conceal'd our cot 1 past,
" Yet on my journey paus'd awhile, and gaz'd
" And wept ; for often had I crost the hill
" With chearful step, and seen the rising smoke
<e Of hospitable fire ; alas ! no smoke
u Curl'd o'er the melancholy chimneys now !
<c Orleans I reach'd, There in the suburbs stood

M 2



V. 256

u The abbey ; and ere long I learnt the fall
M Of Yenville.

<e On a day, a soldier ask'd
Cf For Isabel. Scarce could my faltering feet
<c Support me. It was Francis, and alone^ —
" The sole survivor of the fatal fight !

<c And soon the foes approached : impending war
<c Soon Sadden'd * Orleans. There the bravest chiefs



* " The French King used every expedient to supply the
city with a garrison and provisions, and enable it to maintain
a long and obstinate siege. The Lord of Gaucour, a brave
aud experienced captain, was appointed governor. Many
officers of distinction threw themselves into the place. The
troops which they conducted were inured to war, and were
determined to make the most obstinate resistance : and even
the inhabitants, disciplined by the long continuance of hostili-
ties, were well qualified in their own defence, to second the
efforts of the most veteran forces. The eyes of all Europe
were turned towards this scene ; where, it was reasonably sup-
posed, the French were to make their last stand for maintain-



V. 257

<K Assemble : Thouars, Coarase, Chabannes,

(( And the Sire * Chapelle in successful war

" Since wounded to the death, and that good Knight*

" Gfresme of Rhodes, who in a better cause .

" Can never wield the crucifix + that hilts



tog the independance of their monarchy, and the rights of

their sovereign/'

Hume,

* This title was not discriminate^ used by the French.
Chapelie is sometimes stiled ie Sire, and sometimes Gentil-
homme de Beausse by Daniel. 1 he same title was applied to
the Allmighty, and to Princes, and Selden observes from Pas-
quier u these ancient Barons affected rather to be stiled by the
name of Sire than Baron, and the Baron of Coucy carried to
that purpose this rithme in his device ;

Je ne suis Roy ne Prince aussi,
Je suis le Sire de Coucy."

+ At the creation of a Knight of Rhodes a sword with a*
cross for the hilt was delivered to him in token that his valour*
must defend religion. No bastard could be a Knight Hospi.
taller, from whose order that of Rhodes was formed, except a
bastard to a Prince, there being honour in that dishonour, as,
there is light in the very spots of the moon."

Fuller's Historic of the Holy Warre.
M 3



V. 258

" His hallowed sword, and Xaintrailles ransom'dnow,
" And Fayette late releas'd, and that young * Duke
" Who at Verneuil senseless with many a wound
" Fell prisoner, and La Hire, the t merriest man



* Alencon.

f " In the late warres in France between King Henry the
fifth of England and Charles the 7th of France, the French
armie being in distresse, one Captain La Hire a Frenchman,
was sent to declare unto the said French King, the estate and
affaires of the warre, and how for want of victuals, money,
and other necessaries, the French had lost divers townes and
battailes to the English. The French King being disposed to
use his Captaine familiarly, shewed him such thinges as him-
self was delighted m, as his buildings, his banquets, faire
Jadies, &c and then asked the Captaine how hee liked them .-
rc trust me Sir," quoth the Captaine, speaking his mind freely,
" I did never know any Prince that more delighted himself
«< with his losses, than you doe with yours. "

Stowe.

La Hire had just time before an engagement to make a
general confession of his sins, and tell his Confessor that they
were all of them very soldier-like ones. This done he made
this prayer, " Dieu je te prie, que tu fasses aujourd'hui pour



V. 259

" Thai ever yet did win his soldiers love,,
t( And over all for hardihood renown'd
i( The Bastard Orleans.

" These within the town_
" Expect the foe. Twelve hundred chosen men
u Well tried in war, uprear the guardian shield
" Beneath their banners. Dreadful was the sight.
" Of preparation. The wide suburbs stretch'd
4< Along the pleasant borders of the Loire,
" Late throng'd with multitudes, now feel the hand
" Of * Ruin. These preventive care destroys.



La Hire, autant que tu voudrois que La Hire fit pour toi, s'il
etoit Dieu et tu fusses La Hire." The epitaph of Thomas
Hodmandod was evidently suggested by this ill-directed jest of
La Hire. It is surprising how few witticisms are original.

* " They pulled down all the most considerable buildings
in the suburbs, and among the rest twelve churches and seve-
ral monasteries ; that the English might not make use of them
in carrying on the siege. "

Rapin. Monstrellet.

M 4



V. 260

" Lest England, shelter'd by the friendly walls,

'* Securely should approach. The monasteries

" Fell in the general waste. The holy Monks

" Unwillingly their long-accustomed haunts

u Abandon, haunts where every gloomy nook

" Call'd to awakened memory some trace

u Of vision seen, or sound miraculous.

" Trembling and terrified, their noiseless cells

u For the rude uproar of a world unknown,

(< The nuns desert : their Abbess, more composed,

u Collects her maids around, and tells her beads,

" And pours the timid prayer of piety.

" The citizens with long and ceaseless stroke

u Dig up the violated earth, to impede

" The foe : the hollow chambers of the dead

" Echo'd beneath. The brazen-trophied tomb

u Thrown in the furnace, now prepares to give

te The death it late recorded. It was sad

r# To see so wide a waste ; the aged ones

" Hanging their heads, and weeping as they went



V. 26 r

fr O'er the fall'n dwellings of their happier years ;
** The stern and sullen silence of the men
(< Musing on vengeance : and, but ill represt,
u The mother's fears as to her breast she clasp'd
u Her ill-doom'd infant. Soon the suburbs lay
' ' One ample ruin ; the huge stones remov'd,
" Wait in the town to rain the storm of death,

" And now without the walls the desolate plain
n Stretch'd wide, a rough and melancholy waste,
<c With uptorn pavements and foundations deep
" Of many a ruined dwelling : nor within
t# Less dreary was the scene j at evening hour
u No more the merry * viol's note was heard,,



* The instrument which most frequently served for an ac-
companiment to the harp, and which disputed the pre-emi*
nence with it in the early times of music in France, was the*
Viol ; and indeed, when reduced to four strings, and strip*'
with the frets with which viols of all kinds seem to have been
M 5



V. 2ff2

« No more the aged matron at her door

€C Humra'd cheery to her spinning wheel, and mark'd

" Her children dancing to the roundelay.

u The chieftains strengthening still the massy walls,

f< Survey them with the prying eye of fear.

€C The eager youth in dreadful preparation

€C Strive in the mimic war. Silent and stern,

" With the hurrying restlessness of fear, they urge

u Their gloomy labours. In the city dwelt

u An utter silence of all pleasant sounds,

€i But all day long the armourers beat was heard,

$e And all the night it echoed.

u Soon the foe



furnished till the 16th century, it still holds the first place
among treble instruments under the denomination of violin.

The Viol played with a bow, and wholly different from the
Vielle, whose tones are produced by the friction of a wheel
which indeed performs the part of a bow, was very early in
favour with the inhabitants of France.

Burney's History of Music,



V. 263

€i led to our walls the siege : as on they move
"The clarions clangor, and the chearful fife,
" According to the thundering drum's deep sound,
" Direct their measur'd march. Before the ranks
u Stalks the stern form of Salisbury, the scourge
" Of France ; and Talbot towered by his side,
€< Talbot, at whose dread name the froward child
" Clings mute and trembling to his nurse's breast.
t€ Suffolk was there, and Hungerford, and Scales,
" And FastolrTe, victor in the frequent fight..
" Dark as the autumnal storm they roll'd along,
" A countless host ! From the high tower I marked
" The dreadful scene ; I saw the iron blaze
" Of javelins sparkling to the noontide sun,
iK Their banners tossing to the troubled gale,
** And — fearful music — heard upon the wind;
(( The modulated step of multitudes.

" There in the midst, shuddering with fear, I saw
" The dreadful stores of death 3 tremendous roll'd
u Q



V. 264

cc Over rough roads the harsh wheels \ the brazen tubes
fC Flash'd in the sun their fearful splendor far,
" And last the loaded waggons creak'd along.

<e Nor were our chieftains whilst their care procur'd

fe Human defence, neglectful to implore

€< That heavenly aid, deprived of which the strength

€t Of man is weakness. Bearing thro' our streets

u The precious relics of the holy dead,

" The Monks and Nuns pour'd many an earnest prayer

4C Devoutly join'd by all. Saint Aignan's shrine

" Was throng'd by supplicants, the general voice

" Call'd on Saint * Aignan's name again to save



* St. Atgnan was the tutelary Saint of Orleans. He had
miraculously been chosen Bishop of that City when Attilla be-
sieged it. " Comme les citoyens effrayez eurent recours a
leur prelat, luy, sans se soucier, pour le salut de siens, sortit de
la ville et parla a Attila. Mais ne l'ayant pu flechir, il se rait
en prieres, fit faire des processions, et porter par les rues les
xeliques des Saints. Un Prestre s*estant mocque, disant, que



V. 265.

'* His people, as of yore, before he past

u Into the fullness of eternal rest,

« When by the Spirit to the lingering camp



ccla n'avoit de rien profite aux autres villes,.tomba roide mort
slir la place, portant par ce moyen la peine de son insolente
temerite. Apres toutes ces choses, il commanda aux habitans'
devoir si le secours n'arrivoit point ; ayant ete repondu que
non, il se remet en prieres, et puis leur fait mesme comman-
dement : mais n'appercevant point encore de secours, pour la
troisieme fois il se prosterna a terre, lcs yeux et l'esprit vers-
le Ciel. Se sentant exauce, il fait monter a la guerite et luy
rapporte-t-on que Ton ne voyoit rien si non une grosse nuee de
poussiere, il assuere que c'etoit le secours d'^Etius et de
Teudo Roy des Goths, lesquels tardans a se montrer a l'armee
d'Attilla, S. Aignan fut divinement transporte en leur camp,
et les advertit que tout estoit perdu, sils attendoient au lende-
main. Us parurent aussi-tost, et forcerent Attila de lever si
hativement le siege, que plusieurs des siens se noyerent dans
la Loire, d'autres s'entretuerent avec regret d'avoir perdu la
ville. Et non contens de cette victoire, le poursuivirent si.
vivement avec le Roy Merouee, qui se vint joindre a eux, qu'
ils le defirent en battaille rangee pres de Chalons, jonchant la
campagne de 180,000 cadavres."

Le nouveau Parterre desjieurs des vies des Saints. Par P,
Ribadeneira, Andre du Yal et Jean Baudoin, Lyons 1666.



v. m

%t Of iEtius borne, he brought the timely aid,

* And Attilla with all his multitudes

** Far off retreated to their field of shame.

And now Dunois, for he had seen the camp

<c Well-order'd, enter'd. u One night more in peace

" England shall rest," he cried, " ere yet the storm

" Bursts on her guilty head ! then their proud vaunts

<< Forgotten, or remember'd to their shame,

" Vainly her chiefs shall curse the hour, when first

" They pitch'd their tents round Orleans."

« Of that siege,"
The Maid of Arc replied, " gladly I hear
" The detail. Isabel proceed ! for soon
" Destin'd to rescue that devoted town,
<< The tale of all the ills she hath endur'd,
" I listen, sorrowing for the past, and feel
u High satisfaction at the saviour power
•< Tame commissioned."

Thus the virgin spake,



V. 267

Nor Isabel delayed. " And now more near
The hostile host advancing pitch their tents.
Unnumber'd streamers wave, and clamorous shouts,
Anticipating conquest, rend the air
With universal uproar. From their camp
A Herald comes \ his garb emblazon' d o'er
With leopards and the lilies of our realm
Foul shame to France ! The summons of the foe
He brought."'

The Bastard interrupting cried,
I was with Gaucour and the assembled chiefs,
When by his office privileged and proud
That Herald spake, as certain of success
As he had made a league with Victory."
Nobles of France rebellious \ from the chief
Of yon victorious host, the mighty Earl
Of Salisbury, now there in place of him
Your Regent John of Bedford : in his name
I come, and in our sovereign Lord the King's,
Henry. Ye know full well our master's claim,



V. 26g

rr Incontrovertible to this good realm,

t( By right descent, and solemnly confirm'd

" By your great Monarch and our mighty King

" Fifth Henry, in the treaty ratified

<e At * Troyes, wherein your monarch did disclaim

rc All future right and title to this crown,

" His own exempted, for his son and heirs

" Down to the end of time. This sign'd and seal'd

" At the holy altar, and by nuptial knot

€< Of Henry and your Princess, yields the realm,

" Charles dead and Henry, to his infant son

" Henry of Windsor. Who then dares oppose

" My master's title, in the face of God



* " By the treaty of Troyes, Charles was to remain in quiet

possession of the royal dignity and revenues. After his death'

the crown, with all its rights and dominions, devolved to

Henry and his heirs. The imbecility of Charles was so great

that he could not appear in public, so that the Queen and'

Burgundy swore for him."

Rapin.



V. 269

<€ Of wilful perjury, most atrocious crime,

<( Stands guilty, and of flat rebellion 'gainst . »

" The Lord's anointed. He at Paris crown' d

u With loud acclaim from the duteous multitude

" Thus speaks by me. Deliver up your town

" To Salisbury, and yield yourselves and arms,

<( So shall your lives be safe : and — mark his grace !

<( If of your free accord, to him you pay

" Due homage to your sovereign Lord and King,

u Your rich estates, your houses shall be safe,

" And you in favour stand, as is the Duke,

u Philip of Burgundy. But — mark me well !

" If obstinately wilful, you persist

(t To scorn his proffer' d mercy ; not one stone

" Upon another of this wretched town

** Shall then be left: and when the English host

€< Triumphant in the dust have trod the towers

u Of Orleans, who survive the dreadful war

<€ Shall die like traitors by the hangman's hand.

" Ye men of France, remember Caen and Roan t"



V. 270

u He ceased : nor Gaucour for a moment paus'd
f( To form reply.

" Herald ! to all thy vaunts
" Of English sovereignty let this suffice
u For answer : France will only own as King
<{ Him whom the people chuse. On Charles's brow
*< Transmitted thro' a long and good descent
u The crown remains. We know no homage due
" To English robbers, and disclaim the peace
** Inglorious made at Troyes by factious men
tf Hostile to France. Thy master's proffer' d grace
e( Meets the contempt it merits. Herald, yes,
" We shall remember Meaux, and Caen, and Roan !
« Go tell the mighty Earl of Salisbury,
" That as like Blanchard, Gaucour dares his power \
(c Like Blanchard, he can mock his cruelty,
" And triumph by enduring. Speak I well,
6( Ye men of Orleans ?"

" Never did I hear
C( A shout so universal as ensued



V. 271

€C Of approbation, The assembled host

" As with one voice pour'd forth their loyalty,

" And struck their sounding shields. The towers of

if Orleans
" Echoed the loud uproar. The Herald went.
" The work of war began."

" A fearful scene/*
Cried Isabel. " The iron storm of death
" Clash' d in the sky ; from the strong engines hurl'd
(e Huge rocks with tempest force convuls'd the air}
<{ Then was there heard at once the clang of arms,
" The bellowing cannon s, and the soldier's shout,
(e The female's shriek, the affrighted infant's cry,
w The groan of death : discord of dreadful sounds
« That jarr'd the soul!

H Nor while the encircling foe
" LeagerM the walls of Orleans, idly slept
" Our friends : for winning down the Loire its way
u The frequent vessel with provision fraught,
€i Arid men, and all the artillery of death,



« Cheer'd us with welcome succour. At the bridge
(t These safely stranded mock'd the foeman's force.
* f This to prevent, * Salisbury their watchful chief,
" Prepares the mighty work. Around our walls,



* " The besiegers received succours in the very beginning of
the siege ; but the Earl of Salisbury, who considered this en.
terprize as a decisive action for the King his master, and his
own reputation, omitted nothing to deprive the besieged of that
advantage. He run up round tb# city sixty forts. How great
soever this work might be, nothing could divert him from it,
since the success of the siege entirely depended upon it. In
vain would he have pursued his attack, if the enemies could