Yours sincerely,
William.
Joan of Arc.
It is not possible to reflect on the fate of this hapless Visionary without the deepest interest: whether she be considered as really believing herself as Heaven-sent, or as a young and uneducated enthusiast, quitting her humble path in life, and by the sole aid of her own talents obtaining the confidence of the greatest heroes of the day. If policy rendered her a necessary victim to its purposes, it must be lamented that such was the case.
Her statue in the market place at Rouen, is the first object to which the Cicerone of that town conducts the curious traveller; but I would recommend my countrymen to avoid this spot: as an Englishwoman I felt uncomfortable, when I turned from the meek placid features shaded by the plumes of the warrior’s casque. The comments of my Norman guide were needless, and in reply to his invectives against “les Anglais,” I could only sigh, “’Tis true, ’tis pity—pity ’tis ’tis true.”
“Jeanne d’Arc, known by the designation of the ‘Maid of Orleans,’ was born at the village of Domremi sur Meuse, and was a servant at an inn: being endowed with bodily strength, and a hardihood of character beyond her sex, she introduced herself to the brave Dunois, as the chosen champion of France, and distinguished herself in the cause of Charles VII. She was taken prisoner at Compiegn in 1430, and conducted to Rouen, where, being condemned as a sorceress by the Ecclesiastical Power, to which she was given up by the English chiefs, she was burnt alive in the public market place. In speaking of this unfortunate Amazon, Malherbe aptly observes that, having lived like Alcides, it was just she should die as he died.
L’ennemi tous droits violant,
Belle Amazone, en vous brûlant
Témoigna son âme perfide;