Saint Louis of Toulouse was the grandson of Charles of Anjou, who was suzerain of Florence for ten years. Perugia chose him as her patron saint, and in Florence he was patron of the Parte Guelfa. He is easily recognized by his mitre and the fleurs-de-lys upon his cope. There is a statue of him by Donatello at Santa Croce, and pictures elsewhere by Bonfigli, Simone Martini, Moretto and Cosimo Rosselli. Perhaps the most sympathetic and individual portrait of him is that of Bartolommeo Vivarini.[184] He carries book and crozier and his youthful face is very sweet and earnest, though it has the set lips of the true churchman. The cope is bordered with a large design of fleurs-de-lys. Both these saints wear the fleur-de-lys to mark that they are members of the Royal House of France. The purity which the lily symbolizes when regarded as the flower of the Virgin is a secondary significance. Now another holy one has joined them, who also, though of lowly birth, bore the golden lilies. But for her they were the true lilies of maidenhood, their form merely showing that the right to carry them on her banner was the gift of a French king. ‘With a wreath woven by no mortal hand shall she (Jeanne d’Arc) at Reims engarland happily the gardener of the Lily, named Charles, son of Charles,’ prophesied Engélinde, the Hungarian seer, and at the fulfilment Charles was not ungrateful. Since a woman cannot heraldically bear arms, he granted to the brothers of the maid the right to wear two of the royal lilies on their shield. The blazon was _d’azur à la couronne royale d’or soutenue d’une épée d’argent croisée et pommetée d’or en pal, cotoyée de deux fleurs-de-lis d’or_. They were given at the same time (December 1429) the surname of _du lis_. The sword has the blade ornamented with five fleurs-de-lys and is apparently the famous one unearthed in the Church of St Catharine at Fierbois, ‘decked with five flower-de-luces on each side.’[185] But in the least doubtful of the many contemporary portraits of the Maid (those in the collection of M. George Spetz) the fleurs-de-lys do not appear. When questioned at her trial as to any supernatural power held by her sword, she declared: ‘It was a rusty sword in the earth, with five crosses on it, and I knew it through my voices.’[186] The clergy of the Church of St Catharine, however, after finding the sword by Jeanne’s directions, had had a scabbard made for it of crimson velvet, embroidered with fleurs-de-lys in gold, and legend supported by heraldry seems to have substituted the fleurs-de-lys of the scabbard for the five crosses of the blade.