St Joan turns up all over town. In pride of place in the large, central place du Martroi, a mostly pedestrianized square at the end of rue de la République, rises a bulky mid-nineteenth-century likeness of her on horseback. Just beyond place du Martroi, the grand nineteenth-century boulevard of rue Jeanne d'Arc marches arrow-straight up to the doors of the Cathédrale Ste-Croix (daily 9.15am–6.45pm), where Joan celebrated her victory over the English – although the uniformly Gothic structure actually dates from well after her death. Huguenot iconoclasts destroyed the transepts in 1568, and in 1601 Henri IV inaugurated a rebuilding programme which lasted until the nineteenth century. The lofty towers of the west front, which culminate in a delicate stone pallisade, were only completed at the time of the revolution. Inside, skeletal columns of stone extend in a single vertical sweep from the cathedral floor to the vault. Joan's canonization in 1920 is marked by a garish monumental altar next to the north transept, supported by two jagged and golden leopards that represent the English. In the nave, the late-nineteenth-century stained-glass windows tell the story of her life, starting from the north transept. In a series of cartoon-like images, L'Anglois Perfide, or perfidious Albion, gets a rough ride, while the role of the Burgundians in her capture and the French clergy in her trial is rather brushed over. Across place d'Étape from the cathedral, outside the red-brick Renaissance Hôtel Groslot, the old Hôtel de Ville, Joan appears again, in pensive mood, her skirt now shredded by World War II bullets.You're spared the Maid in the cavernous Musée des Beaux-Arts, opposite the Hôtel Groslot (Tues–Sat 10am–12.15pm & 1.30–6pm, Sun 1.30–6pm; €3), where the main French collection is housed on the first floor. A bewilderingly large set of rooms is devoted to French seventeenth-century works but much more alluring is the suite on the mezzanine level, which leads from nineteenth-century Neoclassicism through Romanticism and on to a huge chamber devoted to the early Realists, dominated by Antigna's taut, melodramatic The Fire. Foreign art, mainly Flemish and Italian sixteenth- and seventeenth-century works, is banished to the second floor, while twentieth-century art lurks in the basement; both sections were closed for restoration at the time of writing, probably until 2004. The museum regularly stages good temporary exhibitions; the tourist office has details. If you follow rue Jeanne-d'Arc east from the cathedral and turn left down rue Charles-Sanglier, you'll find the ornate Hôtel Cabu (May, June & Sept Tues–Sun 1.30–6pm; July & Aug Mon 1.30–6pm, Tues–Sun 10am–noon & 1.30–6pm; Oct–April Wed, Sat & Sun 1.30–6pm; same ticket as Musée des Beaux-Arts), whose three tiers faithfully follow the three main classical orders in strict Renaissance style. Inside, a small historical and archeological museum houses the extraordinary Treasure of Neuvy-en-Sullias, a collection of bronze animals and figurines found near Orléans in 1861. The cache was probably buried in the second half of the third century AD either to protect it from Germanic invaders or to stop it being melted down for coinage at a time of rampant inflation, and possibly represents the last flourishing of Celtic religion at the end of the Gallo-Roman period. The floors above house various medieval oddities and Joan-related pieces, as well as exhibits on the history of Orléans. The entrance is on square Abbé-Desnoyers. At the end of rue Jeanne-d'Arc, on place Général-de-Gaulle, is the semi-timbered Maison de Jeanne d'Arc (May–Oct Tues–Sun 10am–12.15 & 1.30–6pm; €2), a 1960s reconstruction of the house where Joan stayed. Its contents are fun, most of all for children, with good models and displays of the breaking of the Orléans siege. Despite the consistency in artists' renderings of the saint, it seems the pageboy haircut and demure little face are part of the myth – there is no contemporary portrait of her, save for a clerk's doodle in the margin of her trial proceedings, kept in the National Archives in Paris. If you head back east, and down towards the river, you'll find the scattered vestiges of the old city. Rue de Bourgogne was the Gallo-Roman main street, and in the basement of the modern Préfecture at no. 9, built on the site of the Roman forum, a spartan civic reception room provides odd surroundings for an excavated first-century dwelling – or bits of it – and the walls of a ninth-century church. It's not a site as such: ask the receptionist if you can have a look. Across the street is the Salles des Thèses, all that remains of the medieval university of Orléans where the hardline Reformation theologian Calvin studied Roman law. South of the Préfecture, the attractive narrow streets of the old industrial area slope gently down towards the river. At least two of the quarter's churches are on the list of precious monuments: the remains of St-Aignan and its well-preserved eleventh-century crypt; and the Romanesque St-Pierre-le-Puellier, an old university church now used for concerts and exhibitions. St-Aignan was destroyed during the English siege, rebuilt by the Dauphin and extended into one of the greatest churches in France by Louis XII, but more sieges of the city during the Wars of Religion took their toll, leaving just the choir and transepts standing. Visits to the crypt, which was built in the early eleventh century to house the relics of St-Aignan, usually have to be arranged through the tourist office, though it's often open in the afternoon during July and August.
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