Duke of Burgundy, I pray you and implore you, as humbly as I can implore, do no longer wage war against the holy kingdom of France! Do promptly order your men, who still hold several fortresses in the kingdom, to withdraw. The King of France is ready to accord you peace, without detriment to his honor! I notify you in the name of God that you will win no battle against the loyal French, none. So, then, do no longer wage war against us. Believe me, whatever the number of soldiers may be that you take to field, they will accomplish nothing. And it would be a great pity still to shed so much blood in fresh battles. May God protect you and give us all peace! Written at Rheims, before the consecration of King Charles, on the seventeenth day of July, 1429. JOAN.[105] This letter, to which, being unable to write, the warrior maid attached her "cross in God," as was her custom, was sent by a herald to Philip of Burgundy. Thereupon, putting on her white armor, mounting her fine white charger, and with her casque on her head, her sword at her side and her standard in her hand, the Maid rode on the right side of Charles VII at the head of the captains and splendidly accoutred courtiers to the ancient Cathedral of Rheims. The procession marched through a vast concourse of people who saw in the consecration of the King the end of the foreigner's rule and the termination of the misfortunes of France. The ceremony was performed with all the pomp of the Catholic Church. By the light of thousands of wax candles, across the clouds from gold censers, in front of the high altar that was resplendent with candles and where Charles VII knelt down, the Bishop of Rheims consecrated him King to the ringing of bells, the sounding of trumpets and the booming of cannon. A witness to the imposing spectacle, the young peasant girl of Domremy stood in the choir of the basilica; pensively as she leaned on the staff of her standard, her recollections wandered four years back. A tear dropped from her eyes in memory of her god-mother Sybille, and the passage of Merlin's prophecy, now fulfilled, recurred to her mind: "For the martial maid the steed and the armor! But for whom the royal crown? The angel with wings of azure holds it in his hands. The blood has ceased to run in torrents, The thunder to peal, the lightning to flash.-- I see a serene sky; the banners float; The clarions sound; the bells ring. Cries of joy! Chants of victory! The martial virgin receives the royal crown From the hands of the angel of light; a man, Wearing a long mantle of ermine Is crowned by the warrior virgin.-- "It matters little what may happen-- What must be, shall be. Gaul, lost by a woman, Is saved by a virgin From the borders of Lorraine and a forest of oaks!--" PART IV. ROUEN; OR, THE MYSTERY OF THE PASSION OF JOAN DARC CHAPTER I.