CHAPTER XI.

THE SORCERESS.

RETURNING to the Grande Rue, and passing the Tour de la Grosse Horloge, we reach presently the Place de la Pucelle.

The area of this spot, filled at once with ennobling and humiliating associations, is small. A well and a statue the latter inferior even to that at Orleans itself -marks the place where the heroic girl died. Some hackney-coachmen sleep on their boxes close by; the population of the city floats along, without turning the head-without raising the eyes.

If all the other crimes perpetrated by the English in France were heaped into one mass, they would not equal in guilt and horror the execution of Jeanne d'Arc. It is inconceivable to think how men, who possessed at least the property of physical courage, could have been guilty of so cowardly an atrocity. In fact, the whole transaction resembles the disjointed fragments of some hideous night-mare, which it is impossible to arrange on any principle of moral perspective. We may suppose that the English were carried away by a bruterage, engendered by the shame of defeat; but among the judges of the Maid there were Frenchmen as well as Englishmen. Among the former were the Bishop of

Beauvais (afterwards of Lisieux), the Bishop of Bayeux, and the Abbots of Fécamp, Jumièges, Bec, and Mont St. Michel; and at the execution, the English were not only impatient for her blood, but also, as Massieu says, "several other captains." Can we understand, either, the poor, pitiful, sneaking conduct of Charles VII., who was in other respects a hero?

At the siege of Campiegne, the young heroine was wounded and taken prisoner by the English, clothed in armour and standard in hand. A tribunal was immediately formed, composed of nine doctors of the Sorbonne, and thirty-five abbots and monks; the vicar of the Inquisition, brother Martin, presiding, assisted by the Bishop of Beauvais, mentioned above. They tried her, not for delivering her country from a foreign yoke, and chasing away the English from before the banner consecrated by her high and holy enthusiasm-but for sorcery! She was condemned therefore to suffer the death of a heretic, and to pass through the fire to Mammon.

Placards were carried before her to the place of execution, stating the nature of her crime. She was declared to be guilty of divination, blasphemy, superstition, and of wearing men's attire—a thing abominable in the sight of God! On her arrival, a sermon was pronounced by Midy; and Massieu informs us that she listened with great firmness and attention. At the conclusion she was delivered up to the secular authorities (for the priesthood of the Lamb of God never shed blood!)—the preacher saying, "Go in peace, the church can no longer defend thee!"

The holy bishop

of Beauvais then read her sentence aloud, and Jeanne fell on her knees.

Her prayers, however, and those of her confessor, were thought too long; and the English," and even several other captains," exclaimed brutally, "Hollo, priest! do you mean that we are to dine here?" They at length took hold of her, and, bowing to all the assistants, she walked towards the funeral pile, and was delivered to the executioner.

This man relates that the scaffold on which she was placed was built very high above the faggots, and plastered, so that the flames could not easily catch, nor quickly reach her; "for the which he was exceedingly sorry, having great compassion for the cruel form and manner in which they made her die." So slowly did the fire burn, that her confessor, Martin Ladvenu, who stood with her upon the scaffold, was not aware that the pile had been lighted, till the circumstance was pointed out to him by Jeanne herself, who besought him to retire, but to hold up the cross to her at a distance, that her eyes might look upon it to the last.

After the deed was over, the executioner was struck with great horror and religious despair. He declared that the heart of the victim would not burn. Her remains, however, were on the same day collected by the order of the English cardinal, and thrown into the Seine.

Many stories went abroad after her death. Among others, it was stated that, owing to the peculiar construction of the scaffold, she had escaped from the flames; and, in consequence, her name was assumed

by more than one counterfeit. A gentleman, whose name was Des Armoires, was so well deceived, that he actually married a young woman who gave herself out to be Jeanne d'Arc.

Some years after, her sentence was revised, and the murdered girl declared innocent by the Pope. A cross was raised upon the spot, and then a fountain, said to have been of beautiful workmanship. Both, however, have disappeared; and the paltry erections which now occupy so remarkable a site are a reproach to the city.

The Place de la Pucelle formed part of the Vieux Marché, which, at the time of her execution, being the great public market-place, occupied a considerable area. At the end of the fifteenth century, it was intersected by some houses; and one of them, opposite the monument of Jeanne d'Arc, exists still, and is worthy of the traveller's attention. This is the Hôtel du Bourgtheroulde, celebrated for its bas-reliefs, of which the principal represent the meeting of Henry VIII. and Francis I. on the Field of the Cloth of Gold. These bas-reliefs are very precious, not only as memorials of the sculpture, but also of the costume and manners of the age. Those relating to the interview between the two kings are five in number; four of which are occupied with the processions. The fifth represents the meeting, and is interpreted by Montfaucon to this effect:

The two kings are seen saluting, and holding their hats raised in the right hand. The housing of the French king's horse is ornamented with fleurs-de-lis, and that of Henry with leopards and rosettes alter

nately. At the side of each there is a valet on foot, whose caps have plumes of feathers falling back over the head. The last cavalier on the right belongs to the suite of the King of France, which is seen by the royal salamander on his back.

The Protestant church of Saint Eloi, close beside the hotel, merits little attention. It stood formerly upon an island, which afterwards formed part of the terres neuves that, in the eleventh century, were the fauxbourgs of Rouen.

From the Place Saint Eloi a few steps take us into the Rue du Vieux Palais, along which we proceed to its end further from the river. Here, on the left, is a narrow street, or rather lane, called the Rue de Pie, into which we entreat the reader to follow us. We stop at a certain door, and contemplate respectfully a bust which ornaments it, neither in bronze nor marble, but in common plaster. Is our companion surprised? Let him cast his eyes a little higher up, and read on the slab fixed in the wall,

PIERRE CORNEILLE

EST NÉ DANS CETTE MAISON

EN 1606.

The house, of late years, has been beautified, as our churchwardens say, and has lost almost all traces of antiquity. The anniversary of this father of the French Drama is celebrated every year at the theatre with great magnificence.

Turning to the right, after traversing the Rue de la Pie, we find ourselves presently in a broad street, ter