The Sun.
London, England, 1849-10-31 00:00:00

THE SUN, LONDON

LITERATURE

of knighthood and the dignity of the Garter, forms the
subject of a most painfully interesting chapter. The
fol]owing extracts will in some degree indioate tl:e in-
tere,ting character and eloquent sty le of the " Maid
of Orleans." Joan's entrance into beleaguered Orleans
(preparatory to raising the siege), and her lint mar-
tial exploit is thus described :
" Truly did Napoleon drclate—in spite of all his own
mathematical genius—that mankind are governed by the
iniz.ginition. This singular entry of the Maid into the
city whence she was to derive her glorious cognomen, at
the same instant confirmed the English in their panic
terror of a witch, and the French in their belief that a
saint, commissioned by God, bad arrived to their deli-
verance. From this hour it seemed as if the English
and French had changed characters, fortune, and po-
sition.

" It was time that some assistance, divine or human,
shettA enter Orleans. The womanly, though warlike,
he,:rt of Jeanne c4'Arc bled in her bosom, and her eyes
filled continually wi.h pitying tears, as she gszed on the
haggard faces end wasted forms of the majority of that
population which ruched to welcome her with ravinr
transports of joy and gratitude. had she descended
visibly from the skies, armed with lightning in their be-
half; she could not have been received Ishii more rove
rence and hopeful trust. The people knelt bAore her as
she approached, kissed her robes and harness, lilted up
their infants for her to bless; men, women, and children,
alike sobbing and heaping blessiloo on her head. She
repulsed these acts of adoration with gentle but grave
reproof, and herself not ceasing to flow with tears, ex-
horted the hearers to courage end calmness. • Even
thus pale and glassy. eyed I saw ye in my dreams!' she
exclaimed. But, oye men of 0. leans, at least! not
weeping, not weeping!—Ye made your enemies weep fer
ye tears of bleed, when yet ye hoped little; and now,
when I em come among ye, when reeemptiou is eel.-
tain—' But her own voice failed, too, iu the reproach.

" The captains of the French army, meanwhile, de-
bated among themselves, what was proper to be done,
not thinking it necessary to consult a country girl, how-
ever much inspired, on their military arrangements. It
was determined, that the Bastard of Orleans should de-
part on the following day to meet the army from Blois,
and lead it safely into the city. The other commanders
were to stay in Orleans, and restrain the rash daring of
the people and of their new leader until his return.
•"rhis determination was communicated to Jeanne
d'Arc, but nut another which the gallant La Hire and
Poton de SaintraiPes resolved upon. It was usual to
celebrate the arrival of any personage of extraordinary
rank in a besieged city by some sally or onslaught that
marked the increase of good cheer within; and these
two famous partizans agreed to treat the English, in the
bastille of St. Laurent, to a skirmish, in honour of the
arrival of the Maid. At the same time it would serve
to cover the departure of Dunois, But dreading her
impetuous temper and sudden influence over the populace
they promised not to reveal their purpose to Jeanne
until it should be accomplished.

" Jeanne was unwearied with her day of fatigue and
emotion, or at least, when speaking on this subject, she
seemed so. But her hostess judiciously thought other-
wise, and retired early, leaving her to repose, with her
daughter for a companion in her couch. It was the
maiden's custom always where it was possible, to sleep
with one of her own sex, and where it was not, to spend
the night in her warlike harness. Jeanne's attendants
were, however, completely exhausted, and especially the
uld Knight who guarded her, and whose office it was to
put on her armour.

" The Chevalier d'Olun was accordingly still plunged
in deep sleep. on his couch in the ante-chamber to that
occupied by Jeanne d'Arc, when shortly aftcr daybreak
he was awakened by her voice. What are those
shouts?' he heard her exclaim. 'To arms! rescue! It
is Fastolte! Give me mine armour!'

" The old knight indeed heard a distant uproar and
outcries, which his experience interpreted into those of
conflict; but before he could equip to appear before his
charge, she was nearly clothed in her arras, with the
affrighted but active aid of the treasurer's daughter.
The words of strife became now joined with others for
aid, and ) ells of terror and flight. Never before had
the young championess heard the direful noise of
human battle and avny; but she paused not even to
attend to the knighi.'s entreaty that she would remain
until be could learn the cause of the disturbance.
The blood tf France is being shed ! Those cries
were taught by French mothers! My horse!—where
is my horsey' _

' She rushed down the stairs of the trccsurer's
house, regardless of the weight of her armour, which at
other timcs_ galled limbs unaccustomed to confinement
and heavy garniture. Her quick and intelligent page,
Louis de Culant, bad alrea.dy saddled' her stead, but
with boyish presumption rode it to the door. Ha,
traitor page!' she exclaimed, rending him from the
raddle, Art thou too of the conspiracy? Who bade
thec hide the truth from me? My standard!—bring me
my standard!'

" She had left it in the sleeping-chamber above; but
almost as rapidly as she could vault up and seat herself
in her saddle, Louis de Cular.t handed out the standard
by its long lance from the window. The effect of
those fiercely sparkling eyes and lighted countenance
was not such as encouraged delays. Snatching. it from
the page's grasp, and setting spurs to her horse,
Jeanne galloped up the street at such furious spc.til
that the sparks flew from its hoofs as from a black-
smith's anvil.