her. The captain decided that he would send her to the king, or the dauphin, as she called him, for he had not yet been. crowned. She was dressed in armor, and five or six armed men were appointed to attend her, though they did not know what to think about it, and were half afraid she might be a witch after all. But she stopped to pray at every church she passed, and at last arrived safely at the French court. When she saw the king, whom she recognized at once among the crowd of courtiers, she knelt down before him, saying: "Gentle dauphin, I am called Jeanne the Maid. The King of Heaven sends to tell you, by me, that you shall be consecrated and crowned in the city of Reims." It was in Reims Cathedral that all the kings of France were crowned, and the French people thought as much of that sacred city as the English did of Westminster Abbey.

Whether Charles believed in her divine inspiration or not, it seemed as if there was no other way of saving Orleans, and that this last desperate chance had better be tried. But, before that, it should be inquired into once more whether she might not be influenced by the devil, instead of by God. Four or five bishops examined her this time, but they could find nothing against her. When they desired that she would show a sign to prove that God had sent her, she said: “My sign will be to raise the siege of Orleans." Every one in the whole region declared that she was a saint; the defenders of Orleans had heard that a miraculous virgin was coming to help them, and sent earnestly entreating for her aid.

At last she was allowed to go. She rode forth, no longer like a poor peasant girl, but fully clad in beautiful white armor, mounted on a splendid black horse, and bearing a sacred sword, called the sword of St. Katherine, which, it was said, she had miraculously discovered in the church. Before her was carried a white standard, on which was the picture of God holding the world in his hands, and two angels, each with a lily-flower.

It is easy to imagine what an effect this wonderful sight would produce both on friend and foe. The poor discouraged French roused up suddenly to hope and confidence. Here was this beautiful girl, this beautiful saint, sent expressly by God, to lead them to victory; and if God were for them, who could be against them? As she marched to Orleans, followed by her troop of soldiers, she had an altar set up in the open air, and they all received the sacrament. These wild, fierce men, who would obey no one else, would have followed the maid to the end of the world.

They, too,

The English, on the other hand, lost heart. believed Jeanne was miraculously inspired. If it were God. fighting against them, what could they do? But in their hearts many of them thought she was a witch and led by the devil. This seemed more terrible still. They were ready enough to fight against men-against the Frenchmen, whom they had beaten so often; but how could they resist the spells of a sorceress?

It was no wonder that it all ended as it did. When Jeanne led the French soldiers against the besiegers, the English, brave as they were, were terrified; they began to see visions, too. Sometimes they saw white butterflies fluttering around her sacred banner; sometimes they saw the saints or Michael, the archangel, among her troops. The siege of Orleans had lasted seven months; in ten days all the English forts were in the hands of the French, and the city was free. It was on a Sunday morning that the English retreated. The maiden caused an altar to be raised in the plain, and before the eremy was well out of sight the rescued people were kneeling around it giving God thanks.

Thus Jeanne had given the "sign" she had promised, and Orleans was delivered. Now she turned to the great work she had at heart-the coronation of the dauphin. It was a long journey to Reims, and a great part of the country through which they must pass was in the hands of the English or the

Burgundians. But the French knew no fears now; they crowded around the maid; always more and more of them followed her standard as she led the king to Reims. Wherever they went they were successful. They took one town after another-even Troyes, where Henry V. had been married; they defeated the English in the battle of Patay. At last they reached Reims, and in its venerable cathedral Charles was anointed, crowned, and consecrated king of France.

XXVIII.

WARS OF THE ROSES.-GUEST.

[After the raising of the siege of Orleans and the death of the duke of Bedford, the English were rapidly expelled from France. In England a child, Henry VI., was on the throne. The lawless habits acquired by the English nobles during the French war could not be restrained when they returned home. They divided into two factions, one rallying around the house of York and the other around the house of Lancaster, and they soon drifted into civil war. The struggle was ostensibly for the possession of the crown, but there were many causes at work to produce discontent.]

IT is hardly necessary to study and recollect all about the twelve battles that were fought, and all the changes and chances of the war. Sometimes one side conquered, and sometimes the other. In the end we may say neither, or perhaps both, conquered, since a member of the house of Lancaster, marrying a member of the house of York, became undisputed king. But though we may be inclined to say, then, that the wars were all for nothing, and nothing came of them, they had in

EDWARD IV.

reality a very great effect on the whole future history and state of England. After those wars were over England was much more like what she is now than she ever could have been without them.

In all the past history we have seen what an enormous power the nobles possessed; how they could help or hinder the king and government just as they chose; how they rebelled and led armies about, fighting each other or fighting the king, just as it happened; or, if they had a strong, clever king, whom they respected, following him and fighting for him. How different all that is from any thing we ever see or hear of now! Imagine now if we were to hear that some great duke or earl was going to lead an army against the government!

We all know it is impossible. Dukes and earls have no armies now. They may give their opinions and advice and votes and money, they may serve in the queen's army, as any other gentleman may, and that is all they can do. But up till this time the great lords had always little armies, or even rather large armies sometimes, of their own. They were bound, indeed, to have them; it was on that very condition that they held their estates. The theory of the feudal system was, that the vassals of the king were obliged to furnish so many men to help him in his wars. But when they did not like the king it was quite probable that they would fit out those said men to oppose him; and, if there was a rival claimant to the throne, some of the nobles would take one side and some the other, according as it suited their interest, or, perhaps, according as they thought was their duty.

In such times a rich nobleman, who had a large following, who could make himself popular, and perhaps hire many other soldiers besides his own under-vassals and tenants, would be very powerful indeed, even more powerful than the king himself, like Warwick, the king-maker. In those days there was no regular standing army, such as we have now.

At that time every body was a soldier, and nobody was a soldier. So, when the nobles went to muster up an army, the plowmen, the weavers, the laborers of all sorts, would leave their work and follow them to fight. They were, doubtless, better soldiers than such men would be at present, for they were regularly trained and practiced at certain times, and every man knew, more or less, how to fight, though they were not like the disciplined regiments we have now. In a little while, after a battle or two perhaps, they would go back again to their work, to their plows or their looms. There were some regular soldiers, too, whose regular profession was war, companions," as they were called, who were trained men, but who belonged to no side and no chief, and who could be hired by any party, city, or rich man who wanted them; and who, when wanted by no one, generally became brigands.

At the time of the Wars of the Roses all the principal nobles of the kingdom took one side or the other, either that of York or Lancaster; each brought his little army behind him, and it was they who fought those twelve battles. At the end of the wars they were nearly all gone-all killed. The family feeling was very strong in those times, and it was a point of honor for a man to revenge the deaths of his relations; then the other side would revenge themselves in return, till we can hardly believe the men who worked these cruel deeds could have called themselves Christians at all. Thus the war became bitterly cruel and savage.

In looking over the pedigrees of those great old families it is quite startling to see how many times we read "killed at Tewkesbury," "killed at St. Albans," "beheaded after Wakefield," and the like. No less than four dukes of Somerset, one after the other, perished in these wars. The end of it all was that the old nobility was almost destroyed, and the feudal system vanished forever. Things began to be much more like what they are now; so this period is generally