displayed, and the assault
began, she being at the head of the troops, the garrison lost heart and
surrendered. On went the army, all opposition vanishing. On the 16th of
July, King Charles entered Rheims. The coronation was fixed for the
following day. "Make good use of my time," Joan repeated to the king,
"for I shall hardly last longer than a year."

In less than three months she had driven the English from before
Orleans, captured from them city after city, raised the sinking cause of
France into a hopeful state, and now had brought the prince to be
crowned in that august cathedral which had witnessed the coronation of
so many kings. On the 17th the ceremony took place with much grandeur
and solemnity. Joan rode between Dunois and the Archbishop of Rheims,
while the air rang with the acclamations of the immense throng.

"I have accomplished that which my Lord commanded me to do," said Joan,
"to raise the siege of Orleans and have the gentle king crowned. I
should like it well if it should please Him to send me back to my father
and mother, to keep their sheep and their cattle and do that which was
my wont."

It would have been well for her if she had done so, for her future
career was one of failure and misfortune. She kept in arms at the king's
desire. In September she attacked Paris, and was defeated, she herself
being pierced through the thigh with an arrow. It was her first repulse.
During the winter we hear little of her. Her family was ennobled by
royal decree, and the district of Domremy made free from all tax or
tribute. In the spring the enemy attacked Compiegne. Joan threw herself
into the town to save it. She had not been there many hours when, in a
sortie, the French were repulsed. Joan and some of her followers
remained outside fighting, while the drawbridge was raised and the
portcullis dropped by the frightened commandant. The Burgundians crowded
around her. Twenty of them surrounded her horse. One, a Picard archer,
"a tough fellow and mighty sour," seized her and flung her to the
ground. She was a prisoner in their hands.

The remaining history of Joan of Arc presents a striking picture of the
character of the age. It is beyond our purpose to give it. It will
suffice to say that she was tried by the English as a sorceress, dealt
with unfairly in every particular, and in the end, on May 30, 1431, was
burned at the stake. Even as the flames rose she affirmed that the
voices which she had obeyed cam