DEATH OF AGNES SOREL. 321 He give her a full absolution for all her sins, in a special form in which she asserted she had received it at Loches. hesitated, but at length complied with her request. We are not told what was this unusual form of pardon. Shortly after she called on God and the blessed Virgin, uttered a loud cry of agony, and expired. Her heart was given to the Abbey of Jumieges; the rest of her remains were taken with great honour to Loches, and interred in the collegiate church to which she had been a benefactress. Much of the wealth bestowed on her by the King she had given to the sick and poor, and the churches. Her loss, therefore, was much deplored. Charles spared no cost to do honour to her remains. Her funeral was almost regal in its ceremonial, and he raised two noble monuments to her memory. The one, at Jumieges, was destroyed in the wars of the Huguenots; the other, adorned by an effigy of the deceased lady beautifully sculptured, was broken to pieces by the ignorant and barbarous French (more barbarous than in the darkest days of the fifteenth century) in the Revolution of 1794. Though Charles was thus prodigal in the respect he paid to the manes of the Lady of Beauty, her death brought no serious reflections to his mind-no reformation in his conduct. A greater scandal than before disgraced his Court, in the person of one who had all the faults, and none of the better qualities, of Agnes. We speak of the niece of the deceased mistress, Antoinette de Maignelais, who, for some time before the death of the unhappy woman, had somewhat supplanted her in the King's favour. Corruption had so eaten into the very heart of the Court, that Charles actually married this Antoinette to a poor gentleman, to whom he gave wealth and titlethe Lord de Villequier; and made her the mistress of a troop of young girls, who were seduced from their friends, and placed under her instruction.1 Monstrelet says that after the death of Agnes, and in his latter days, the King would have none but the handsomest women of the realm about him. The injurious influence of such morals in the sovereign, prevailed to a sad extent with the youth of the period. But though Charles was thus plunged into depravity, he did not return to his old habits of complete indolence. He joined the brave Dunois before Honfleur, and displayed the utmost courage and energy in the contest. The town soon yielded. This success was followed up by enterprise after enterprise, in many of which Charles was personally engaged, and showed bravery in the field and the most judicious policy after victory. In a few months, the very last castle or town in Normandy, hitherto in the possession of the English, was reduced to the obedience of Charles, by his valiant and experienced commanders. The subduing of the south was a much harder task, and required a no less vigorous contest. Eleanor had brought Guienne in dower to Henry II. of England; and the English 1 Mémoires de Jacques du Clercq, and Monstrelet. THE ATTACK ON CASTILLON. 323 had there gained so firm a footing, that it seemed almost impossible to drive them out. But the French were determined on conquest. Great was the energy of Richmond and his companions in arms: they worked wonders; and after much treasure and noble blood had been expended in the struggle, the south submitted, and the war was considered to be at an end. But a quarrel, principally about the exportation of wine to England, between Charles and the recovered provinces, went to such lengths, that all Guienne revolted. Many towns were besieged, and battles fought, before Charles was again. the victor. The attack on Castillon in 1453 was most fatal to the English, by the loss of their General, John Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury. This great warrior, then eighty-seven years old, mounted on a small horse on account of his age, his banner of the Holy Trinity unfurled before him, led on his men with his accustomed indomitable courage, ordering the lances to dismount and to carry by storm an entrenched camp held by the French before the walls of the town. He found, when it was too late, what he had not suspected, that the enemy were prepared with artillery to defend their entrenched post. Talbot's experienced eye saw at a glance the danger he had incurred by having advanced too far. The chroniclers relate that he paused a moment, and advised his son, the Lord Lisle, as he was a young soldier, to retreat; saying that for himself he would not tarnish his name by flight, and feared to cause a panic among his men. But his son, kindred in spirit as in blood, refused to retreat. 'An' if I fly, I am not Talbot's son: Then follow thou thy desperate sire ; If thou wilt fight, fight by thy father's side; And, commendable prov'd, let's die in pride.' Scarcely, as Shakspeare represents him, had the elder Talbot ceased speaking, when the whole range of artillery burst forth its fire and thunders, sweeping down the ranks of the advancing English. The horse that Talbot rode. was killed by a ball, and (according to some writers) the veteran fell with both his thighs broken. His gallant son and thirty English barons resolved to save him. As he lay on the ground, they rallied round him, till, overwhelmed by numbers, the Lord Lisle and every one of these chivalrous men fell by the side of their helpless General. The French archers, like dogs that have brought the noble hart to bay, rushed in, and were dastardly enough, instead of making him prisoner, to despatch on the spot the venerable soldier, the glory of English chivalry. For more than forty years he had been the scourge of France. Unlike too many of the other commanders,though proud as any, he was neither grasping, selfish, nor ambitious. He believed that the English had a right to keep what they possessed in France, and he fought for his country and his sovereign. His remains were brought REVIVED RECOLLECTIONS. 325 to England, and interred with great honour at Whitchurch, in Shropshire. On his tomb still lies the mutilated effigy of this heroic English warrior.1 Soon after this victory of Castillon, Bordeaux, so long the residence of Edward the Black Prince, and the birthplace of his unfortunate son Richard, surrendered, the last of the conquests of triumphant France. Her kingdom was now all her own, save that the solitary seaport of Calais was still English.2 The year 1453 restored freedom and independence to the descendants of the ancient people of Gaul.' The great work had been commenced by the heroic maid, Joan of Arc, and was continued till consummated by the wisdom of the council of the realm and the valour of the French commanders, and, though late, by the exertions of Charles himself. These events revived the recollection of the Maid's prophetic words; and a cry had been raised some time before, even in Rouen, that some expiation was due to her memory for the great crime of her burning. Charles felt so too, but we fear not from any sense of remorse for his own ingratitude. He wished to be cleared of the charge, so constantly insisted upon by the English, that imposture and sorcery had been his auxiliaries, and that a heretic who invoked demons had conducted him to Rheims. We have ourselves the witness how deeply 'See Stothard's Monumental Effigies of Great Britain; and in that work, the late A. J. Kempe's interesting account of Talbot. 'Histoire de France; Mémoires de Richemont; Henri Martin; Barante; Monstrelet; Moreri. |