The Discovery of New Worlds (Yesterday's Classics) by Synge M. B

Author:Synge, M. B. [Synge, M. B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: History
ISBN: 9781599150147
Publisher: Yesterday's Classics
Published: 2010-11-12T23:50:31.139000+00:00

JOAN OF ARC

As she mounted her charger, clad in white armour from head to foot, her great white banner in one hand, her sword by her side, the rough French soldiers felt proud of following her, for they looked on her as something divine. When she reached Orleans she found her countrymen ready to give up the town, which had been besieged for seven long months by the English. Her appearance brought them hope and fresh courage. At the sight of her, in her shining armour, with her mystic banner raised on high, the English were struck with terror.

"She is a witch," they said among themselves.

Fort after fort had been taken. One strong one remained. Joan was determined to take it. She led out the soldiers against this last fort. The English fought desperately, and the maid fell wounded. She was carried away. Suddenly she heard that the French were failing. Heedless of her wound, she mounted her horse, unfurled her banner, and returned.

"Watch my standard," she cried; "when it touches the walls you shall enter the fort."

The return of this wounded witch at the head of her men filled the English with renewed terror. Suddenly above the din of battle rang out the clear voice of the maid, "The victory is ours!"

It was true. The long weary siege was ended: Orleans belonged to the French once more. And it was all due to the courage and inspiration of Joan of Arc.

Entering the great church at Orleans, she wept so passionately that all the people wept with her. Then, flushed with victory, with the shouts of her fellow-soldiers yet ringing in her ears, she made her way to the king.

"Come and be crowned king at Rheims," she cried, throwing herself at his feet; and two months later she stood in her armour of shining steel, her white banner held on high, to see the king crowned. Her mission was now accomplished and she wished to go home, but the king forced her to remain. The end of the story is very sad. The English declared that she was indeed a witch, and for this she was tried. The trial was a long one, and grossly unfair. Charles put out no hand to save her, though she had won him back his crown and saved his kingdom.

"I hold to my Judge," she cried, as her earthly judges gave sentence against her,—"to the King of heaven and earth."

She was condemned to die. A great pile was raised in the market-place at Rouen, where now her statue stands. Her martyrdom was as heroic as had been her life.

"Oh Rouen! Rouen!" she was heard to murmur, as she looked over the city from her lofty scaffold, "I have great fear lest you suffer for my death. Yes, my voices were from God," she cried suddenly, as the flames curled up around her.

Then her head drooped forward, and with one last cry of "Jesus," the Maid of Orleans perished.

"We are lost," muttered an Englishman as the crowd broke up; "we have burned a saint.

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