ho
early showed himself a man of affairs, and was admitted to the King's
Council when he was but twenty-seven. In war, administration, and
finance, he proved himself equally trustworthy and skilful, and to
these qualities he added others of a brilliant intellectual nature. He
advanced from one post of trust to another, until the king himself
presented him with the keys of the city and castle of Rouen. Thus he
became Senechal of Normandy, an honour which remained in his family.
One of his grandsons, Louis de Breze, a son of Charlotte, daughter of
Agnes Sorel and Charles the Seventh, was the husband of Diane de
Poitiers.

Jacques Coeur, whose life was so intimately associated with the Court
during Agnes's lifetime, and so sadly marred and ended after her
death, was the son of a simple merchant of Bourges. Following in the
wake of many adventurous and ambitious merchants of the time, he
journeyed to the East and amassed a large fortune, which he placed at
the disposal of the king. This enabled Charles to carry on the war in
spite of his impoverished exchequer, and to make a final and
successful effort against the English. But, like many another on whom
Fortune has smiled, evil tongues and envious hearts began, ere long,
their vampire work, and after the death of his friend and patroness,
Agnes Sorel, Charles made no effort on his behalf, but left him at the
mercy of his calumniators in the same base and heartless way in which
he had abandoned Joan of Arc. Jacques, his goods confiscated, and his
life in danger, was obliged to fly the country, and died fighting, in
the Pope's service, against the Turk.

Of the beauty of Agnes Sorel there can be no doubt, for all
contemporary chroniclers and poets tell of it. Even the Pope, Pius the
Second, allowed himself to add his tribute of praise to the general
homage. Considering that there are so many types of physical beauty,
appealing to as many different temperaments, there must have been
something rare and remarkable in Agnes to have attracted and held
bound all who came in contact with her. We can but conclude that this
unanimous judgment could only have been the result of that mysterious
union, so illusive, so indefinable, of spiritual with physical beauty.
The records of the time merely tell us that she had blue eyes, and
fair hair in abundance. The only picture, and this not done from life,
by which we can judge her--for the miniatures by Fouquet, at
Chantilly, from Etienne