e part of the preparation for the coming of
that saint was made by other women, not by any means saintly. The wife
of Charles VII. was Marie d'Anjou, who, with her husband, was under the
domination of her mother, Yolande d'Aragon, one of those active, able,
but unscrupulous women who rule by intrigue, who are content to let
others claim the glory so long as the real secret of power is theirs.
Queen Yolande, anxious to preserve the dignity of the house of Anjou for
her son Rene, needed the support of France, and she hated England. She
gained a remarkable ascendency over Charles VII., and used this most
wisely for the good of France, though some of her methods may seem of a
sort to disconcert prevailing opinions.

Seeing that Charles was by nature a libertine, she determined to make
use of that side of his character, although at the expense of her own
daughter. It was she who presented to Charles that famous and lovely
_Dame de beaute_, Agnes Sorel. The role played by this mistress of the
king is truly admirable as well as remarkable. Agnes was no vulgar
woman, but an Aspasia of her time, of noble birth, beautiful, and of a
character gentle as well as essentially good. It is no paradox to
pronounce her good, though she led a life condemned by moral laws; for
the laxity of the age must be considered, as well as the methods of the
mistress herself. Even the wife of her royal lover respected Agnes
Sorel, and there was friendship between them. So far from seeking to
surround herself with idle and vicious companions and encouraging
Charles in offending useful friends or wise counsellors, she used her
influence, in conjunction with Yolande, to establish the credit of the
Constable de Richemont, the most useful of Charles's allies at this
time.

Legend has gilded her portrait for us, and much that is told of her is
not susceptible of proof, but the tendency of her influence is shown by
one little incident. Charles, unable to win back his kingdom, unable to
maintain himself in it north of the Loire, unable to find money to pay
his troops, was yet able to build a chateau at Loches for Agnes Sorel.
Here he was basking in her smiles and heedless of the distress of
France, when accident gave Agnes a chance to rouse his nobler feelings.
Charles had, to amuse the passing hour, called a fortune teller to the
chateau, and stood by while the man told the fortune of his well-beloved
Agnes. The mountebank, with the cunning of his kind, tho