Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc

Twain, Mark

Published: 1896 Categorie(s): Non-Fiction, Biography & autobiography, Fiction, Historical Source:


About Twain: Samuel Langhorne Clemens (November 30, 1835 — April 21, 1910), better known by the pen name Mark Twain, was an American humorist, satirist, writer, and lecturer. Twain is most noted for his novels Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, which has since been called the Great American Novel, and The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. He is also known for his quotations. During his lifetime, Clemens became a friend to presidents, artists, leading industrialists, and European royalty. Clemens enjoyed immense public popularity, and his keen wit and incisive satire earned him praise from both critics and peers. American author William Faulkner called Twain "the father of American literature." Source: Wikipedia Also available on Feedbooks for Twain: • The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1885) • The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (1876) • Life On The Mississippi (1883) • A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court (1889) • The $30,000 Bequest and other short stories (2004) • Roughing It (1872) • The War Prayer (1916) • Tom Sawyer, Detective (1896) • Tom Sawyer Abroad (1894) • The Jumping Frog (1865) Note: This book is brought to you by Feedbooks Strictly for personal use, do not use this file for commercial purposes.


Consider this unique and imposing distinction. Since the writing of human history began, Joan of Arc is the only person, of either sex, who has ever held supreme command of the military forces of a nation at the age of seventeen LOUIS KOSSUTH.


Translator's Preface
To arrive at a just estimate of a renowned man's character one must judge it by the standards of his time, not ours. Judged by the standards of one century, the noblest characters of an earlier one lose much of their luster; judged by the standards of to-day, there is probably no illustrious man of four or five centuries ago whose character could meet the test at all points. But the character of Joan of Arc is unique. It can be measured by the standards of all times without misgiving or apprehension as to the result. Judged by any of them, it is still flawless, it is still ideally perfect; it still occupies the loftiest place possible to human attainment, a loftier one than has been reached by any other mere mortal. When we reflect that her century was the brutalest, the wickedest, the rottenest in history since the darkest ages, we are lost in wonder at the miracle of such a product from such a soil. The contrast between her and her century is the contrast between day and night. She was truthful when lying was the common speech of men; she was honest when honesty was become a lost virtue; she was a keeper of promises when the keeping of a promise was expected of no one; she gave her great mind to great thoughts and great purposes when other great minds wasted themselves upon pretty fancies or upon poor ambitions; she was modest, and fine, and delicate when to be loud and coarse might be said to be universal; she was full of pity when a merciless cruelty was the rule; she was steadfast when stability was unknown, and honorable in an age which had forgotten what honor was; she was a rock of convictions in a time when men believed in nothing and scoffed at all things; she was unfailingly true to an age that was false to the core; she maintained her personal dignity unimpaired in an age of fawnings and servilities; she was of a dauntless courage when hope and courage had perished in the hearts of her nation; she was spotlessly pure in mind and body when society in the highest places was foul in both—she was all these things in an age when crime was the common business of lords and princes, and when the highest personages in Christendom were able to astonish even that infamous era and make it stand aghast at the spectacle of their atrocious lives black with unimaginable treacheries, butcheries, and beastialities. She was perhaps the only entirely unselfish person whose name has a place in profane history. No vestige or suggestion of self-seeking can be found in any word or deed of hers. When she had rescued her King from his vagabondage, and set his crown upon his head, she was offered rewards and honors, but she refused them all, and would take nothing. All


she would take for herself—if the King would grant it—was leave to go back to her village home, and tend her sheep again, and feel her mother's arms about her, and be her housemaid and helper. The selfishness of this unspoiled general of victorious armies, companion of princes, and idol of an applauding and grateful nation, reached but that far and no farther. The work wrought by Joan of Arc may fairly be regarded as ranking any recorded in history, when one considers the conditions under which it was undertaken, the obstacles in the way, and the means at her disposal. Caesar carried conquests far, but he did it with the trained and confident veterans of Rome, and was a trained soldier himself; and Napoleon swept away the disciplined armies of Europe, but he also was a trained soldier, and he began his work with patriot battalions inflamed and inspired by the miracle-working new breath of Liberty breathed upon them by the Revolution—eager young apprentices to the splendid trade of war, not old and broken men-at-arms, despairing survivors of an agelong accumulation of monotonous defeats; but Joan of Arc, a mere child in years, ignorant, unlettered, a poor village girl unknown and without influence, found a great nation lying in chains, helpless and hopeless under an alien domination, its treasury bankrupt, its soldiers disheartened and dispersed, all spirit torpid, all courage dead in the hearts of the people through long years of foreign and domestic outrage and oppression, their King cowed, resigned to its fate, and preparing to fly the country; and she laid her hand upon this nation, this corpse, and it rose and followed her. She led it from victory to victory, she turned back the tide of the Hundred Years' War, she fatally crippled the English power, and died with the earned title of DELIVERER OF FRANCE, which she bears to this day. And for all reward, the French King, whom she had crowned, stood supine and indifferent, while French priests took the noble child, the most innocent, the most lovely, the most adorable the ages have produced, and burned her alive at the stake.


A Peculiarity of Joan of Arc's History
The details of the life of Joan of Arc form a biography which is unique among the world's biographies in one respect: It is the only story of a human life which comes to us under oath, the only one which comes to us from the witness-stand. The official records of the Great Trial of 1431, and of the Process of Rehabilitation of a quarter of a century later, are still preserved in the National Archives of France, and they furnish with remarkable fullness the facts of her life. The history of no other life of that remote time is known with either the certainty or the comprehensiveness that attaches to hers. The Sieur Louis de Conte is faithful to her official history in his Personal Recollections, and thus far his trustworthiness is unimpeachable; but his mass of added particulars must depend for credit upon his word alone. THE TRANSLATOR.


The Sieur Louis de Conte, To his Great-Great-Grand Nephews and Nieces
This is the year 1492. I am eighty-two years of age. The things I am going to tell you are things which I saw myself as a child and as a youth. In all the tales and songs and histories of Joan of Arc, which you and the rest of the world read and sing and study in the books wrought in the late invented art of printing, mention is made of me, the Sieur Louis de Conte—I was her page and secretary, I was with her from the beginning until the end. I was reared in the same village with her. I played with her every day, when we were little children together, just as you play with your mates. Now that we perceive how great she was, now that her name fills the whole world, it seems strange that what I am saying is true; for it is as if a perishable paltry candle should speak of the eternal sun riding in the heavens and say, "He was gossip and housemate to me when we were candles together." And yet it is true, just as I say. I was her playmate, and I fought at her side in the wars; to this day I carry in my mind, fine and clear, the picture of that dear little figure, with breast bent to the flying horse's neck, charging at the head of the armies of France, her hair streaming back, her silver mail plowing steadily deeper and deeper into the thick of the battle, sometimes nearly drowned from sight by tossing heads of horses, uplifted sword-arms, wind-blow plumes, and intercepting shields. I was with her to the end; and when that black day came whose accusing shadow will lie always upon the memory of the mitered French slaves of England who were her assassins, and upon France who stood idle and essayed no rescue, my hand was the last she touched in life. As the years and the decades drifted by, and the spectacle of the marvelous child's meteor flight across the war firmament of France and its extinction in the smoke-clouds of the stake receded deeper and deeper into the past and grew ever more strange, and wonderful, and divine, and pathetic, I came to comprehend and recognize her at last for what she was—the most noble life that was ever born into this world save only One.


Part 1 In Domremy 8 .

they were for our own French King. France had fallen low—so low! For more than three quarters of a century the English fangs had been bedded in her flesh. ice. And plagues they did create. devils. None had the courage to gather these dead for burial. and stripped naked by thieves. and the burials were conducted secretly and by night. and so cowed had her armies become by ceaseless rout and defeat that it was said and 9 . In politics they were Armagnacs—patriots. uninterrupted.Chapter 1 When Wolves Ran Free in Paris I. burning. finally. The sun rose upon wrecked and smoking buildings. exactly two years before Joan of Arc was born in Domremy. the bitterest winter which had visited France in five hundred years. Then came. they were left there to rot and create plagues. My family had fled to those distant regions from the neighborhood of Paris in the first years of the century. The dead lay in heaps about the streets. for public funerals were not allowed. there. the unholy gleaners after the mob. he left behind him a region peopled with furies. madmen. Ah. just as they fell. killing. 1410. where slaughter was a daily pastime and no man's life safe for a moment. on the 6th of January. He came to a region of comparative quiet. and that was something. and wolves entered the city in daylight and devoured them. slaughter. and yonder about the streets. and upon mutilated corpses lying here. crazy and impotent as he was. and done it well. sacking. THE SIEUR LOUIS DE CONTE. and when he reached Neufchateau he reached it in poverty and with a broken spirit. was born in Neufchateau. that is to say. mobs roared through the streets nightly. But the political atmosphere there was the sort he liked. They took everything but my father's small nobility. had stripped them. Famine. pestilence. The Burgundian party. Epidemics swept away the people like flies. who were for the English. snow—Paris had all these at once. lest the revelation of the magnitude of the plague's work unman the people and plunge them into despair. In Paris. unmolested.

obedient to their parents and the priest. ten years old. and the small garden of Joan's parents was behind the church. and although the English King went home to enjoy his glory. not bright. became my home. Etienne Roze. like Joan herself. Joan. both married common laborers. Guillaume Fronte. failed to go and pay his reverence to those two humble old women who had been honored in their youth by the friendship of Joan of Arc. and heard the butchers laugh at their prayers and mimic their pleadings. left behind with the court) butchered while they begged for mercy. I had some other playmates besides—particularly four boys: Pierre Morel. many years after. As to that family there were Jacques d'Arc the father. When they grew up. and he and I were the only persons in the village who possessed this learning. of course—you would not expect that—but good-hearted and companionable. and Jean. for the rest had taken flight and hidden themselves. you see. and escaped without hurt. also two girls. in the course of time. howsoever great he might be. his wife Isabel Romee. just of the ordinary peasant type. whose housekeeper became a loving mother to me. about a year old. he left the country prostrate and a prey to roving bands of Free Companions in the service of the Burgundian party. taught me to read and write. Pierre. We lived close by the village church. to the priest. one was named Haumetter. your ancestor. Noel Rainguesson. seven. yet a time came. When I was five years old the prodigious disaster of Agincourt fell upon France. I was six years old. and as they grew up they became properly stocked with narrowness and prejudices 10 . I had these children for playmates from the beginning. Their estate was lowly enough. when no passing stranger. three sons—Jacques. whose father was maire at that time. about Joan's age. I was sent to Domremy. These were all good children. eight. and by the light of our burning roof-thatch I saw all that were dear to me in this world (save an elder brother. and one of these bands came raiding through Neufchateau one night. and I was all alone. except for the company of the dead and the wounded. the other was called Little Mengette. who by and by became her favorites. At the time that the house of this good priest. The priest. When the savages were gone I crept out and cried the night away watching the burning houses. and Edmond Aubrey. four. These girls were common peasant children. and her baby sister Catherine.accepted that the mere sight of an English army was sufficient to put a French one to flight. I was overlooked.

and when the split came. John Huss and his sort might find fault with the at second hand from their elders. and without examination also—which goes without saying. and we had three Popes at once. their politics the same. nobody in Domremy was worried about how to choose among them—the Pope of Rome was the right one. when I was fourteen. a Pope outside of Rome was no Pope at all. and adopted without reserve. in Domremy it disturbed nobody's faith. Every human creature in the village was an Armagnac—a patriot—and if we children hotly hated nothing else in the world. Their religion was inherited. 11 . we did certainly hate the English and Burgundian name and polity in that way.

it was only an opinion. The houses were dimly lighted by wooden-shuttered windows—that is. The floors were dirt. but no one had ever seen it. from the rear edge of the village a grassy slope rose gradually. Sheep and cattle grazing was the main industry. narrow lanes and alleys shaded and sheltered by the overhanging thatch roofs of the barnlike houses. and deep ruby eyes as large as a cavalier's hat. and scales like overlapping great tiles. but he will be limber and cannot stand up. and full of interest for us children. for that has always been the color of dragons. and I consider that evidence is the bones of an opinion.Chapter 2 The Fairy Tree of Domremy OUR DOMREMY was like any other humble little hamlet of that remote time and region. but very big. one was still living in there in our own time. I think there is no sense in forming an opinion when there is no evidence to form it on. It was as long as a tree. It was thought that this dragon was of a brilliant blue color. even unusually so for a dragon. therefore this was not known to be so. all the young folks tended flocks. I always held the belief that its color was gold and without blue. and at the top was the great oak forest—a forest that was deep and gloomy and dense. and an anchor-fluke on its tail as big as I don't know what. The situation was beautiful. It was not my opinion. and had a body as big around as a tierce. holes in the walls which served for windows. and in still earlier times prodigious dragons that spouted fire and poisonous vapors from their nostrils had their homes in there. as everybody said who knew about dragons. It was a maze of crooked. As to that dragon. and there was very little furniture. for many murders had been done in it by outlaws in old times. But I will take up this matter more at large at another time. If you build a person without any bones in him he may look fair enough to the eye. That this dragon lay but a little way within the wood at one time is shown by the 12 . In fact. From one edge of the village a flowery plain extended in a wide sweep to the river—the Meuse. and try to make the justness of my position appear. with gold mottlings.

and by it a limpid spring of cold water. it is not hearsay. for none had. And in return for this attention the fairies did any friendly thing they could for the children. I know this to be true by my own eyes. and on summer days the children went there—oh. and whenever a child died the fairies mourned just as that child's playmates did. for before the dawn on the day of the funeral they hung a little immortelle over the place where that child was used to sit under the tree. and fond of anything delicate and pretty like wild flowers put together in that way. And the reason it was known that the fairies did it was this—that it was made all of black flowers of a sort not known in France anywhere. like that other—and lacked bones. for they liked that. and the sign of it was there to see. It gives one a horrid idea of how near to us the deadliest danger can be and we not suspect it. and the priest had become the one that abolished dragons. being idle innocent little creatures. such as keeping the spring always full and clear and cold. and it was never heard of again. and recognized it by the smell. it was only an opinion. Pere Guillaume Fronte did it in this case. but in our time that method had gone out. for it carried 13 . you see. every summer for more than five hundred years—went there and sang and danced around the tree for hours together. and so there was never any unkindness between the fairies and the children during more than five hundred years—tradition said a thousand—but only the warmest affection and the most perfect trust and confidence. and they loved that name. Now from time immemorial all children reared in Domremy were called the Children of the Tree. as all fairies are. He had a procession. refreshing themselves at the spring from time to time. Also they made wreaths of flowers and hung them upon the tree and about the spring to please the fairies that lived there. In the earliest times a hundred knights from many remote places in the earth would have gone in there one after another. I know that the creature was there before the exorcism. and it was most lovely and enjoyable. to kill the dragon and get the reward. In a noble open space carpeted with grass on the high ground toward Vaucouleurs stood a most majestic beech tree with wide-reaching arms and a grand spread of shade. with candles and incense and banners.fact that Pierre Morel was in there one day and smelt it. but whether it was there afterward or not is a thing which I cannot be so positive about. although it was the opinion of many that the smell never wholly passed away. and marched around the edge of the wood and exorcised the dragon. Not that any had ever smelt the smell again. and driving away serpents and insects that sting.

Which was this: whenever one of these came to die. Others said the vision came in two ways: once as a warning. and then the Tree appeared in its desolate winter aspect—then that soul was smitten with an awful fear. If repentance came. then—if they be at peace with God—they turn their longing eyes toward home. far-shining. and they see the bloomy mead sloping away to the river. Now one thing that does make it quite likely that there were really two apparitions of the Tree is this fact: From the most ancient times if one 14 . clothed in a dream of golden light. they see the soft picture of the Fairy Tree. then beyond the vague and formless images drifting through his darkening mind rose soft and rich and fair a vision of the Tree—if all was well with his soul. but if it were otherwise with that soul the vision was withheld. they know! and by their transfigured faces you know also. and it passed from life knowing its doom. but I only know that the last one was. But Pierre Morel and Jacques d'Arc. and to their perishing nostrils is blown faint and sweet the fragrance of the flowers of home. they and many others said they knew it. this time summer-clad and beautiful. and there. and that it has come from heaven. Still others said that the vision came but once. when the soul was the captive of sin. the vision came again. That was what some said. you who stand looking on. And then the vision fades and passes—but they know. Probably because their fathers had known it and had told them.with it a mystic privilege not granted to any others of the children of this world. and then only to the sinless dying forlorn in distant lands and pitifully longing for some last dear reminder of their home. and that was the last one. he will have the steadier mind for it—and there is profit in that. In fact. I know that when the Children of the Tree die in a far land. I think they were true. as through a rift in a cloud that curtains heaven. One of them I knew to be the truth. I do not say anything against the others. and it is my thought that if one keep to the things he knows. and many others believed that the vision appeared twice—to a sinner. Joan and I believed alike about this matter. And what reminder of it could go to their hearts like the picture of the Tree that was the darling of their love and the comrade of their joys and comforter of their small griefs all through the divine days of their vanished youth? Now the several traditions were as I have said. yes. some believing one and some another. and purity of life. and not trouble about the things which he cannot be sure about. one or two years in advance of death. for one gets most things at second hand in this world. you know the message that has come.

" And the neighbor would shudder at the thought and whisper back. the song of L'Arbre fee de Bourlemont. and our voices break and we cannot sing the last lines: "And when. A thing that is backed by the cumulative evidence of centuries naturally gets nearer and nearer to being proof all the time. for I have seen the vision of the Tree. I myself. but in none of these was the person in a state of sin. that song. and with them peace—peace that might no more be disturbed—the eternal peace of God. but if you will remember what it was to us." Such evidences as these have their weight. and always loved it. and if this continue and continue. homeless and heavy of heart in countries foreign to their speech and ways. the apparition was in these cases only a special grace. to exiled Children of the Tree. wait with serenity. it was common for every one to whisper to his neighbor. when the children joined hands and danced around the Fairy Tree they sang a song which was the Tree's song. and am content. old and broken. they are not to be put aside with a wave of the hand. and what it brought before our eyes when it floated through our memories. No stranger can know or feel what that song has been. And you will understand how the water wells up in our eyes and makes all things dim. Oh. from the remotest times. in place of deferring the tidings of that soul's redemption till the day of death. and has got his warning. in Exile wand'ring. They sang it to a quaint sweet air—a solacing sweet air which has gone murmuring through my dreaming spirit all my life when I was weary and troubled.saw a villager of ours with his face ash-white and rigid with a ghastly fright. perchance. You will think it a simple thing. through the drifting centuries. rise upon our sight!" And you will remember that Joan of Arc sang this song with us around the Tree when she was a little child. he has seen the Tree. you will grant that: L'ARBRE FEE DE BOURLEMONT SONG OF THE CHILDREN 15 . In my long life I have seen several cases where the tree appeared announcing a death which was still far away. it will some day become authority—and authority is a bedded rock. Always. I have seen it. No. "Yes. And that hallows it. resting me and carrying me through night and distance home again. and will abide. then you will respect it. the apparition brought them long before. poor soul. he is in sin. "Ah. and poor. yes. we Shall fainting yearn for glimpse of thee.

and steal a tear That. And what has built you up so strong. Oh. rose a leaf. and they were so busy. And when. Arbre Fee de Bourlemont? The children's tears! They brought each grief. and they made an agreement among themselves that they would always continue to hang flower-wreaths on the tree as a perpetual sign to the fairies that they were still loved and remembered. but we never saw them. And warmed your heart and kept it young— A thousand years of youth! Bide always green in our young hearts. and the fairies were stealing a dance. They've nourished you with praise and song. and so intoxicated with the wild happiness of it. that they noticed nothing.Now what has kept your leaves so green. Arbre Fee de Bourlemont? The children's love! They've loved you long Ten hundred years. and said it was sin and shame to have such friends. though lost to sight. Arbre Fee de Bourlemont! And we shall always youthful be. not thinking anybody was by. and said they were their good friends and dear to them and never did them any harm. because. in sooth. in exile wand'ring. healed. and then he warned them never to show themselves again. All the children pleaded for the fairies. But late one night a great misfortune befell. and with the bumpers of dew sharpened up with honey which they had been drinking. rise upon our sight! The fairies were still there when we were children. Edmond Aubrey's mother passed by the Tree. nor hang any more immortelles. And you did comfort them and cheer Their bruised hearts. and saw the little fantastic 16 . on pain of perpetual banishment from that parish. so Dame Aubrey stood there astonished and admiring. but the priest would not listen. the priest of Domremy had held a religious function under the tree and denounced them as being blood-kin to the Fiend and barred them from redemption. The children mourned and could not be comforted. Not heeding Time his flight. a hundred years before that. we Shall fainting yearn for glimpse of thee.

"Joan. so we had to be content with some poor small rag of black tied upon our garments where it made no show. of course. and leaning away back and spreading their mouths with laughter and song. it would not have been allowed. she was not heartless. but said he had no choice. and he did not want to banish the fairies. tearing around in a great ring half as big as an ordinary bedroom. for our hearts were ours. is dear to me yet when I go there now. Yes. they must go. they could not get at them to prevent that. only you can do it!" But her mind was wandering. were asleep and not witting the calamity that was come upon us. We could not wear mourning that any could have noticed. and never come back any more. for he had a most kind and gentle nature. that day that Pere Fronte held the function under the tree and banished the fairies. the very maddest and witchingest dance the woman ever saw. so we went away knowing all was lost. and the disaster was complete. It was a bitter day for us. there is no moment to lose! Come and plead for the fairies—come and save them. all was lost. but it was always dear. We all flocked to Pere Fronte. But in about a minute or two minutes the poor little ruined creatures discovered her. but only thoughtless—went straight home and told the neighbors all about it. whilst we. for where everybody knows a thing the priest knows it. wake! Wake. but in our hearts we wore mourning. too. seeing our sorrow. In the morning everybody knew. with their wee hazel-nut fists in their eyes and crying. for Joan of Arc was ill of a fever and out of her head. and so disappeared. for it had been decreed that if they ever revealed themselves to man again. the foolish woman. the small friends of the fairies. crying and begging—and he had to cry. big and noble and occupying all the room. as many as three hundred of them. They burst out in one heartbreaking squeak of grief and terror and fled every which way.atoms holding hands. forever lost. once a 17 . which she could hear quite distinctly. and kicking their legs up as much as three inches from the ground in perfect abandon and hilarity—oh. This all happened at the worst time possible. The heartless woman—no. and said so. The great tree—l'Arbre Fee de Bourlemont was its beautiful name—was never afterward quite as much to us as it had been before. and all unconscious that we ought to be up and trying to stop these fatal tongues. she did not know what we said nor what we meant. and what could we do who had not her gifts of reasoning and persuasion? We flew in a swarm to her bed and cried out. the faithful friends of the children for five hundred years must go.

would God I could bring the little creatures back. the spring lost much of its freshness and coldness. There. oh. and it was wrong. because they had no friend to think that simple thing for them and say it. don't cry—nobody could be sorrier than your poor old friend—don't cry. we realized how much her illness had cost us. to sit under it and bring back the lost playmates of my youth and group them about me and look upon their faces through my tears and break my heart. not against the innocent act. they not knowing that any one was by." "If a man comes prying into a person's room at midnight when that person is half-naked. for so little a creature. will you be so unjust as to say that that person is showing himself to that man?" "Well—no. that was it. yes. When that wise little child.year in my old age. even if one did not intend to commit it?" Pere Fronte threw up his hands and cried out: "Oh. "Is a sin a sin. but her temper was up so high that she could not get it down right away. and mine. for we found that we had been right in believing she could save the fairies. got well." The good priest looked a little troubled and uneasy when he said it. for there was no intention to commit one. the fairies' protection being gone. my poor little child." and he drew her to his side and put an arm around her and tried to make his peace with her. is it not so?" "Yes. dear. there. wrong to do it!" The good father hugged her yet closer to his side and said: "Oh. my God! No. and the banished serpents and stinging insects returned. and went straight to Pere Fronte. out of the mouths of babes and sucklings the heedless and unthinking are condemned. they have been sent away from their home forever. In one or two ways it could not be. anyway. I see all my fault. Joan. She burst into a great storm of anger. and made reverence and said: "The fairies were to go if they showed themselves to people again. and more than two-thirds of its volume. for." 18 . And mine. and multiplied. dear. and stood up before him where he sat. but buried her head against his breast and broke out crying and said: "Then the fairies committed no sin. and because they were little creatures and could not speak for themselves and say the law was against the intention. for your sake. the place was not quite the same afterward. for I have been unjust. and became a torment and have remained so to this day.

perhaps." "But I can't until I am forgiven. and said: "Take the ashes and put them on my head for me. And it is no little matter. thou remorseless but most just accuser." 19 . and said: "Oh. it is yourself that must forgive yourself for wronging those poor things. I didn't know that that was what one meant by sackcloth and ashes—do please get up. for all Joan's pleadings. One can imagine how the idea of such a profanation would strike Joan or any other child in the village. father. Now what can I do? Find me some way out of this with your wise little head. and not a very agreeable one. you have done nothing to me. and she presently looked up at the old man through her tears. I will put on sackcloth and ashes."But I can't stop right away." Pere Fronte would have been moved to laugh again." The matter ended there. and took a shovelful of cold ashes. but if it is my own. and seized the shovel and deluged her own head with the ashes. Do you forgive me?" "I? Oh. She was about to cry again. no. father. and was going to empty them on his old gray head when a better idea came to him. that will do—if it will clear you." The Pere would not stir. So he got up and went to the fireplace. dear?" "How. Joan watching him with deep interest. I can't be lenient. She ran and dropped upon her knees by his side and said: "Oh. if he had not remembered in time that he had made a contract. please get up. Is being sorry penance enough for such an act?" Pere Fronte turned away his face. there—are you satisfied?" Joan's sobs began to diminish. father?" He got down on his knees and bent his head low. this thing that you have done. it is dreadful. I've got to. father. of course. The victory was with the priest. and he said: "Would you mind helping me. in her simple way: "Yes. Please get up. I thought I was earning your forgiveness. it would not become me. won't you?" "But I am worse off now than I was before. It must be fulfilled. Oh. stammering out through her chokings and suffocations: "There—now it is done. father. for it would have hurt her to see him laugh. then she had an idea. and said. it is not.

The old man. but the right and true spirit is in it. indifferent way that fools a person so. both touched and amused. and leads him into the trap." "Then if it was wrong to honor them in that way." "Did you hang them on the tree?" "No. and that it was sinful to show them honor. gathered her to his breast and said: "Oh. father." "Did you believe it was wrong to honor them so?" "Yes. He enjoyed that. and I judged he was going to spring his trap. father. and not of a sort presentable in a picture. I knew he was going to drop corn along in front of Joan now. He said: 20 . and if they were of kin to the Fiend." "Why didn't you?" "I—well." He studied a minute. I thought it must be wrong. you were used to make wreaths there at the Fairy Tree with the other children. and he did. is it not so?" That was the way he always started out when he was going to corner me up and catch me in something—just that gentle. He was in fine spirits now." "Why didn't you want to hang them in the tree?" "Because it was said that the fairies were of kin to the Fiend. so he took his seat and drew Joan to his side again. couldn't they?" "I suppose so—yes. you incomparable child! It's a humble martyrdom. I didn't wish to. I think so." "Didn't wish to?" "No. and said: "Joan. and helped her scour her face and neck and properly tidy herself up. they could be dangerous company for you and the other children. he never noticing which way he is traveling until he is in and the door shut on him." "Didn't hang them there?" "No. that I testify. father. and ready for further argument." Then he brushed the ashes out of her hair." "What did you do with them?" "I hung them in the church. Joan answered: "Yes.

"Oh. and why you would have saved them from it. and sent down His rain and dew and sunshine upon it five hundred years in token of His peace? It was their home—theirs. dear. What had she lost by it! Was he never going to find out what kind of a child Joan of Arc was? Was he never going to learn that things which merely concerned her own gain or loss she cared nothing about? Could he never get the simple fact into his head that the sure way and the only way to rouse her up and set her on fire was to show her where some other person was going to suffer wrong or hurt or loss? Why. and she burst out on him with an energy and passion which astonished him. why you call it a wrong to drive them into banishment. and now they mourn for them. they could be dangerous company for the children. Who disapproved of God's approval and put a threat upon them? A man. In a word." "Not Satan?" "Satan. and no man had a right to rob them of it. what loss have you suffered by it?" How stupid of him to go and throw his case away like that! I could have boxed his ears for vexation if he had been a boy. he had gone and set a trap for himself—that was all he had accomplished. and the children loved them. Who caught them again in harmless sports that God allowed and a man forbade. my child? This is the footstool of the Most High—Satan owns no handful of its soil. and drove the poor things away from the home the good God gave them in His mercy and His pity. and there is no healing for their grief. and carried out that threat. the indignant tears rose in her eyes. truest friends that children ever had. They were banned creatures."Then the matter stands like this. how can you talk like that? Who owns France?" "God and the King. for I knew he had fired a mine when he touched off his ill-chosen climax." "Then who gave those poor creatures their home? God. Who protected them in it all those centuries? God. And they were the gentlest. by the grace of God and His good heart. and did them sweet and loving service all these five long centuries. but didn't astonish me. if you can think of any. Who allowed them to dance and play there all those centuries and found no fault with it? God. of fearful origin. Now give me a rational reason. father. He was going along all right until he ruined everything by winding up in that foolish and fatal way. The minute those words were out of his mouth her temper was up. and never any hurt or harm. And what had the children done that they should suffer this cruel stroke? The poor fairies could have been 21 .

poor fiends. The Pere had got upon his feet. and he had walked into it. and these had. and children have rights. "What can a person's heart be made of that can pity a Christian's child and yet can't pity a devil's child. they have rights. and could is no argument. poor children. everything is lost. but upon reflection my heart went down. and as he passed through it I heard him murmur sorrowfully: "Ah. now. and she said true—I never thought of that. I am to blame. all is lost. "Poor little creatures!" she said. and do every humane and loving thing they could to make them forget the hard fate that had been put upon them by accident of birth and no fault of their own. me. and now he stood there passing his hand back and forth across his forehead like a person who is dazed and troubled. It was so. with her knuckles in her eyes. and now she burst out of the place and was gone before we could gather our senses together out of this storm of words and this whirlwind of passion. that a thousand times more needs it!" She had torn loose from Pere Fronte. She said that for that very reason people ought to pity them. and stayed your hand and saved them all. toward the last. and stamping her small feet in a fury. God forgive me. for this was not my gift. and these had. and wondered if mayhap I might get him into one." When I heard that. 22 . Kinsmen of the Fiend? What of it? Kinsmen of the Fiend have rights. and if I had been there I would have spoken—I would have begged for the children and the fiends. and was crying. then he turned and wandered toward the door of his little workroom. But now—oh. I knew I was right in the thought that he had set a trap for himself. I seemed to feel encouraged. you see. and there is no help more!" Then she finished with a blast at that idea that fairy kinsmen of the Fiend ought to be shunned and denied human sympathy and friendship because salvation was barred against them. but never had been.dangerous company for the children? Yes.

but winter was the cozy time. but I think I will not try to do it now. with a great fire going. and her pets around her helping. and listened to the old villagers tell tales and histories and lies and one thing and another till twelve o'clock at night. but always had an idea she was a friend when they came across her. and the pleasant spit-spit of the snow and sleet falling in it down the chimney. In the summer we children were out on the breezy uplands with the flocks from dawn till night. and told fortunes. and homeless or unlovable animals of other kinds heard about it and came. One winter's night we were gathered there—it was the winter that for years afterward they called the hard winter—and that particular night was a sharp one.Chapter 3 All Aflame with Love of France SPEAKING of this matter reminds me of many incidents. It blew a gale outside. and played games. and appetites to match. and generally struck up an acquaintance with her 23 . and meal cakes with butter. She had more than was usual of them or economical. And we were. It will be more to my present humor to call back a little glimpse of the simple and colorless good times we used to have in our village homes in those peaceful days—especially in the winter. winter was the snug time. and as the birds and the other timid wild things of the woods were not afraid of her. when you are inside and comfortable. We had a roaring fire. Little Joan sat on a box apart. for I think it is great and fine and beautiful to hear the wind rage and storm and blow its clarions like that. and the screaming of the wind was a stirring sound. and they came also. and these spread the matter to the other creatures. Often we gathered in old Jacques d'Arc's big dirtfloored apartment. and the yarning and laughing and singing went on at a noble rate till about ten o'clock. many things that I could tell. and then there was noisy frolicking and all that. and had her bowl and bread on another one. and then we had a supper of hot porridge and beans. because all the outcast cats came and took up with her. and sang songs. and I think I may say it was beautiful.

squirrels. sitting up. and as she would allow of no cages. and stamped his feet. and he put up his hand to cover this womanish sign of weakness. but then there came an interruption. and took off his limp ruin of a hat. and then glanced around on the company with a pleased look upon his thin face. The embarrassed poor creature stood there and appealed to one face after the other with his eyes. and loving friends to talk with—ah. to any extent. for ornamental they never could be. yes. no fetters. and a most yearning and famished one in his eye when it fell upon the victuals. therefore it must have its course. and so they were a marvelous nuisance. So the pets were left in peace. and they came. She was hospitable to them all. this was get invited to the house. as any will admit that have noticed them. and here they were. that contented them. and shut the door. as I have said. It was one of those ragged road-stragglers—the eternal wars kept the country full of them. the smile on his own face flickering and fading and perishing. as those creatures do. and giving its elevated bushy tail a flirt and its pointed ears a toss when it found one—signifying thankfulness and surprise—and then it filed that place off with those two slender front teeth which a squirrel carries for that purpose and not for ornament. no collars. and said it was a blessed thing to have a fire like that on such a night. then he dropped his gaze. it would be no sound prudence to meddle with His affairs when no invitation had been extended. but they didn't go. He came in. and brushed himself. meanwhile. and made Jacques d'Arc swear a good deal. the muscles of his face began to twitch. and hunting for the less indurated places. Everything was going fine and breezy and hilarious. and found no welcome in any. and that rich food to eat. and shook. for somebody hammered on the door. and full of interest in her supper. There was a very small squirrel on her shoulder. but his wife said God gave the child the instinct. and such as must trudge the roads in this weather. and God help the homeless. and other reptiles. no matter about its sort or social station. rabbits. and slapped it once or twice against his leg to knock off its fleece of snow. Nobody said anything. and knew what He was doing when He did it. cats. all over snow. and then he gave us a humble and conciliatory salutation. she always had samples of those breeds in stock. but left the creatures free to come and go as they liked. and turning a rocky fragment of prehistoric chestnut-cake over and over in its knotty hands. and a roof overhead like this. and helping what they could. birds. all around the child. "Sit down!" 24 . for an animal was an animal to her. and dear by mere reason of being an animal.

"Do you hear me? Sit down. Please let—" "What an idea! It is the most idiotic speech I ever heard. and it has done no harm to anybody. but I would that you would think—then you would see that it is not right to punish one part of him for what the other part has done. and said: "Father. everybody 25 . and took his hand away." "Let him work for food. and no bite nor sup shall they have in this house. and Joan was the object of it. if you will not let me. broke in. I tell you!" "I know not if he is a rascal or no. I say!" There could not be a child more easy to persuade than Joan. as all acknowledged. and will keep my word. even if it was minded to it. and shall have my porridge—I do not need it. Sit down. for it is that poor stranger's head that does the evil things. and a villain. gossip. for look you. it is his stomach. not having any way to do a wrong. but he is hungry. I can see it. but it is not his head that is hungry. but is without blame. neither could he learn it. and ran down his cheeks. but this was not the way. but he was afraid to take the bowl. and there was Joan standing before him offering him her bowl of porridge.This thunder-blast was from old Jacques d'Arc. it is of a certainty most true and demonstrable that it is a man's head that is master and supreme ruler over his whole body. he being fond of an argument. the maire. The stranger was startled. then. Rising in his place and leaning his knuckles upon the table and looking about him with easy dignity. after the manner of such as be orators. my darling!" and then the tears came. smooth and persuasive: "I will differ with you there. and will undertake to show the company"—here he looked around upon us and nodded his head in a confident way—"that there is a grain of sense in what the child has said. and innocent. Is that granted? Will any deny it?" He glanced around again. he is hungry. father." "If you don't obey me I'll—Rascals are not entitled to help from honest people. Joan said: "Father. He has the face of a rascal anyhow. and I have said I would endure it no more. and having a pretty gift in that regard. then it must be as you say. he began. Joan!" She set her bowl down on the box and came over and stood before her scowling father. We are being eaten out of house and home by his like." But Aubrey. Her father had not the art. The man said: "God Almighty bless you.

we will narrow it further. causing a cruel hurt. its situation corresponds to that of a pair of tongs. ergo. Can it plan an incendiary fire? No. how marvelously. We perceive now. Now answer me—can a pair of tongs?" (There were admiring shouts of "No!" and "The cases are just exact!" and "Don't he do it splendid!") "Now. either in whole or in part. as you see. Can it plan a theft? No. "He is right!—he has put that whole tangled thing into a nutshell—it is wonderful!" After a little pause to give the interest opportunity to gather and grow. Listen—and take careful note. assist at a crime? The answer is no. the reasoning faculty is absent. and some said. we will consider what the term responsibility means. indeed. and said it with enthusiasm. we arrive at a man's stomach. the head is alone responsible for crimes done by a man's hands or feet or stomach—do you get the idea? am I right thus far?" Everybody said yes. for he overheard these things. one to another. by it?" He got a rousing cheer for response. and several exclaimed. Can a man's stomach plan a murder? No. and. that the maire was in great form to-night and at his very best—which pleased the maire exceedingly and made his eyes sparkle with pleasure. personal responsibility for the acts of the tongs is wholly absent from the tongs. then. he went on: "Very good. because command is absent. a stomach which cannot plan a crime cannot be a principal in the commission of it—that is plain. Am I right?" A hearty burst of applause was his answer. then. "Now. volition is absent—as in the case of the tongs. responsibility being absent. why is it absurd? It is absurd because. I beg you. so he went on in the same fertile and brilliant way. The matter is narrowed down by that much. Will you claim that the tongs are punishable for that? The question is answered.indicated assent. do we not. of its own motion. "Very well. Let us suppose the case of a pair of tongs that falls upon a man's foot. and how it affects the case in point. that in 26 . admiringly. then. I see by your faces that you would call such a claim absurd. punishment cannot ensue. Now. "Then what do we arrive at as our verdict? Clearly this: that there is no such thing in this world as a guilty stomach. that the stomach is totally irresponsible for crimes committed. there being no reasoning faculty—that is to say. "Now. then. therefore. Consider how exactly. that being the case. Responsibility makes a man responsible for only those things for which he is properly responsible"—and he waved his spoon around in a wide sweep to indicate the comprehensive nature of that class of responsibilities which render people responsible. friends and neighbors. no part of the body is responsible for the result when it carries out an order delivered to it by the head. Can a stomach. no faculty of personal command—in a pair of togs.

and everybody said he had never come up to that speech in his life before. and surely that was no crime at that time in France. we saw this human tide flow and ebb. he was leading us a sublime march through the ancient glories of France. gratefully. and in fancy we saw the titanic forms of the twelve paladins rise out of the mists of the past and face their fate. ebb and 27 . and it was really a noble one to go. He had been in the wars for years. It was splendid to see. Now that was a good and thoughtful idea for a child. and shouted out: "It's all right. some with moisture in their eyes. and set all hearts to thumping and all pulses to leaping. it was allowed to make itself at home. and never could do it again. and praised him to the skies. Even old Jacques d'Arc was carried away. He was a very good fellow. we heard the tread of the innumerable hosts sweeping down to shut them in. sure.the body of the veriest rascal resides a pure and innocent stomach. whatever it's owner may do. and is. having pity for its sorrow and its need. and wrung his hands. not only to feed the hungry stomach that resides in a rascal. still clapping and shouting." Well. only he was out of luck. I am done. and it would not have been wise to wait. the man unwound his tongue and turned it loose. then. you never saw such an effect! They rose—the whole house rose—an clapped. and one after another. for once in his life. and as soon as it was well filled and needed nothing more. and that while God gives us minds to think just and charitable and honorable thoughts. but to do it gladly. and so didn't say anything. Now that his stomach was proved to be innocent. there is no question of that. our privilege. and said such glorious things to him that he was clear overcome with pride and happiness. before anybody rightly knew how the change was made. it at least should be sacred in our eyes. as well as our duty. Joan—give him the porridge!" She was embarrassed. and the things he told and the way he told them fired everybody's patriotism away up high. they crowded forward. When she was asked why she had not waited until a decision was arrived at. and cheered. that. for his voice would have broken. she said the man's stomach was very hungry. and couldn't say a word. It was because she had given the man the porridge long ago and he had already eaten it all up. it should be. since she could not tell what the decision would be. in recognition of its sturdy and loyal maintenance of its purity and innocence in the midst of temptation and in company so repugnant to its better feelings. Eloquence is a power. The man was not a rascal at all. and did not seem to know what to say.

and smothered him with their embracings. lying there in heaps and winrows. all burst out in sobs and wailings. but Joan was there first. then. and breathed his beautiful prayer with his paling pips. 28 . most disastrous. and Roland lay dying. and our stillness. the song which no Frenchman can hear and keep his feelings down and his pride of country cool. and began to pour out the great Song of Roland! Think of that. now listen: here is your reward. Everybody rose and stood while he sang. hanging upon this man's words. And now. and waste away before that little band of heroes." and at that supreme time for such a heart-melting. and took off and held up his gauntlet to God with his failing hand. yet most adored and glorious day in French legendary history. till only one remained—he that was without peer. grandest and pitifulest scene of all. and his rags along with it. with a French audience all stirred up and ready. they all flung themselves in a body at the singer. here and there and yonder. and when the last verse was reached. hugged close to his breast. and deep ejaculations. as we sat with parted lips and breathless. as he stood there with that mighty chant welling from his lips and his heart. with his face to the field and to his slain. where was your spoken eloquence now! what was it to this! How fine he looked.flow. and covering his face with idolatrous kisses. and the tears came and flowed down their cheeks and their forms began to sway unconsciously to the swing of the song. how inspired. in this solemn hush. all alone. stark mad with love of him and love of France and pride in her great deeds and old renown. and one by one we saw them fall. gave us a sense of the awful stillness that reigned in that field of slaughter when that last surviving soul had passed. soul-rousing surprise. his whole body transfigured. we saw each detail pass before us of that most stupendous. But when the final great note died out and the song was done. how stately. we saw his own pathetic death. across that vast field of the dead and dying. and their faces glowed and their eyes burned. and moanings broke out. without another word he lifted up the most noble and pathetic voice that was ever heard. we saw this and that and the other paladin dealing his prodigious blows with weary arm and failing strength. he whose name gives name to the Song of Songs. Oh. the stranger gave Joan a pat or two on the head and said: "Little maid—whom God keep!—you have brought me from death to life this night. and their bosoms to heave and pant.

but that was no matter. 29 . this was the stranger's home now. for as long as he might please.The storm raged on outside.

and colored so easily. and then a third. and was so easily embarrassed in the presence of strangers. Peasant-girls are bashful naturally. but because of the loveliness of her character. in that plodding and peaceful region. he gets attention. and this was not merely because of the extraordinary beauty of her face and form. and got to be good-sized boys and girls—big enough. but Joan was richer in this matter. and so on. Also she was called the Beautiful. These names she kept. when Little Mengette cried out: "Look! What is that?" When one exclaims like that in a way that shows astonishment and apprehension. and they stuck to us. but she surpassed the rule so far. and we gave them to her. All the panting breasts and flushed faces flocked together. and all the eager eyes were turned in one direction—down the slope." "It is a black flag. We got one apiece early. sure! Now.Chapter 4 Joan Tames the Mad Man ALL CHILDREN have nicknames. has any ever seen the like of that before?" "What can it mean?" 30 . to begin to know as much about the wars raging perpetually to the west and north of us as our elders. I remember certain of these days very clearly. One Tuesday a crowd of us were romping and singing around the Fairy Tree. and one other—the Brave." "A black flag! No—is it?" "You can see for yourself that it is nothing else. First and last she had as many as half a dozen. but she was called the Patriot. and we had ours. toward the village. and also to feel as stirred up over the occasional news from these red fields as they did. she earned a second. in fact. because our warmest feeling for our country was cold beside hers. for. and hanging garlands on it in memory of our lost little fairy friends. as time went on. We were all patriots. We grew along up. that we nicknamed her the Bashful. "It's a black flag. Several of these she never lost.

Who is it?" Some named one. for worse is to come. whilst all eyes watched him. but presently all saw that it was Etienne Roze. if you contain yourself till he comes. for it runs counter to our Salic law. all tongues discussed him. until presently Haumette persuaded them to be still." "It is a chance that he that bears it can answer as well as any that are here. In that chilly hush there was no sound audible but the panting of the breath-blown boy. anybody knows that without the telling. and struck his flag-stick into the ground. tied hand and foot. some another. Any child that is born of that marriage—if even a girl—is to inherit the thrones of both England and France. A treaty has been made at Troyes between France and the English and Burgundians. but he was drowned out by the clamors of the others. and so is not legal and cannot have effect." "If you cannot believe that."Mean? It means something dreadful—what else?" "That is nothing to the point. When he was presently able to speak. She needs no other flag now. His ancestors had been Germans some centuries ago. called the Paladin. because of the armies he was always going to eat up some day. But what?—that is the question. saying: "There! Stand there and represent France while I get my breath. he said: "Black news is come. the Queen of France." All the giddy chatter stopped. who all burst into a fury over this feature of the treaty. You have not heard aright. It is the work of the Duke of Burgundy and that she-devil. then you have a difficult task indeed before you. He would have said more. It was as if one had announced a death. because he had yellow hair and a round pock-marked face. Jacques d'Arc. saying: 31 . At last he sprang among us. He came straining up the slope. By it France is betrayed and delivered over. It marries Henry of England to Catharine of France—" "Is not this a lie? Marries the daughter of France to the Butcher of Agincourt? It is not to be believed. called the Sunflower. and every heart beat faster and faster with impatience to know his news. all talking at once and nobody hearing anybody. to the enemy." "He runs well. and this double ownership is to remain with its posterity forever!" "Now that is certainly a lie. now and then projecting his flag-stick aloft and giving his black symbol of woe a wave in the air." said Edmond Aubrey.

"Our King would have to sign the treaty to make it good. Her signing it is of no consequence." Then everybody shouted at once and said the news was a lie. nothing that cuts so deep. isn't he?" "Yes. "Did he believe it?" The hearts almost stopped beating." But the Sunflower said: "I will ask you this: Would the Queen sign a treaty disinheriting her son?" "That viper? Certainly. and his people love him all the more for it. and she hates her son. It brings him near to them by his sufferings. Where did you get it?" The color went out of his sister Joan's face. Jacques d'Arc." "I will ask you another thing. Nobody expects better of her. You find fault with his history because it seems to be lies. of England is to be Regent of France until a child of his shall be old enough to—" "That man is to reign over us—the Butcher? It is lies! all lies!" cried the Paladin. and all began to get cheerful again. There is no villainy she will stick at. and that he would not do. look you—what becomes of our Dauphin? What says the treaty about him?" "Nothing. saying. without my telling. and all heaping execrations upon the Queen's head. "Besides."It is not fair to break him up so in his tale. Etienne. Then came the answer: 32 ." "You say right." Then there was another uproar—everybody talking at once. Well." "Who made him do it?" "You know. and pitying him makes them love him. "The cure of Maxey brought it." "There is but this to tell: Our King. then Henry V. Charles VI. Does he do what others make him do? Yes. She dreaded the answer. and her instinct was right. is to reign until he dies. you see.. Nothing so shameful as this has ever come before. nothing that has dragged France so low. I tell you he has signed the treaty. what would you of one that is mad? Does he know what he does? No. Tell the rest. pray let him go on. if it feed her spite. therefore there is hope that this tale is but another idle rumor. We knew him. for a trusty man. The Queen. It takes away his throne and makes him an outcast. Nobody is talking of her. What is the King's condition? Mad." There was a general gasp. seeing how it serves his own son. then. Now. That were reason for satisfaction—that kind of lies—not discontent. The King must sign. Finally Jacques d'Arc said: "But many reports come that are not true.

are we never going to be men! We do grow along so slowly. There are some who. Oh. she bore it also. and Marie Dupont said: "I would I were a man. dear me. making no complaint. you'll think there's a hurricane blowing it away!" 33 . Presently the reaction came. The animal bears it. not saying anything. I'm not going to wait much longer." "Pooh!" said the Paladin. and got such a good laugh. Let a thousand of them come face to face with a handful of soldiers once. I tell you. "and when I do start you'll hear from me. she'll be a captain! A captain. Noel Rainguesson said: "Oh. and France never needed soldiers as she needs them now. prefer to be in the rear. but an officer—an officer." Even the girls got the war spirit. and glanced about for applause. He said he knew it to be true. saying no word. And that is not all. and the bars of a steel helmet to blush behind and hide her embarrassment when she finds an army in front of her that she hasn't been introduced to. If I could only be a soldier now!" "As for me." Some of the girls began to sob. with a hundred men at her back—or maybe girls. that the Paladin gave it another trial. mind you. but that's all they are good for. and wait—and here are the great wars wasting away for a hundred years. and she gathered the hand to her lips and kissed it for thanks. and you never get a chance. "girls can brag." said the Paladin. and said: "Why you can just see her!—see her plunge into battle like any old veteran. "So would I. "You've always got to wait. Here's little Joan—next she'll be threatening to go for a soldier!" The idea was so funny. in storming a castle. when she starts for that other army. give me the front or none. to wipe out this black insult. and not a poor shabby common soldier like us."He did. I promise you that. Her brother Jacques put his hand on her head and caressed her hair to indicate his sympathy. I will have none in front of me but the officers. with armor on. An officer? Why." said Cecile Letellier. "I warrant you I would not turn back from the field though all England were in front of me. I would start this minute!" and looked very proud of herself. no commonsoldier business for her! And." "I hate youth!" said Pierre Morel. The distress in Joan's face was like that which one sees in the face of a dumb animal that has received a mortal hurt. Yes. sniffing the air like a war-horse that smells the battle. and wait. called the Dragon-fly because his eyes stuck out so. if you want to see what running is like. the boys were struck silent. but as for me. indeed. and the boys began to talk.

When we arrived the danger was past. though for one. Joan was walking by the man's side toward the village. the madman was in custody. We stood where we were. till those two entered the village and were hid from sight. and get Joan out of her peril. but she paid no heed. and we are as good as dead! This ragged and hairy and horrible creature glided out from behind the tree. and that is what we saw—Joan standing. and was so girlish and shrinking in all ways. though I believed my eyes must be deceiving me. as if to warn her not to come further. and the thought that shot through us all was. and the maniac gliding stealthily toward her with his ax lifted. this way and that. Poor thing. that wouldn't hurt a fly. all but Joan. and couldn't bear the sight of blood. which was quite natural. trembling and not able to move. crazy Benoist has gotten loose from his cage. When this passed and I looked again. and make those young people see that when it comes to laughing. She stood up and faced the man. she sat there confused and ashamed to be so laughed at. It was then that we named her the Brave. and remained so. and yet at that very minute there was something about to happen which would change the aspect of things. it seemed to me that while Joan had the ax the man's chance was not the best of the two. We started for the village on a run. It made me sick. not all. No. For just then a face which we all knew and all feared projected itself from behind the Fairy Tree. for we had other matter to think of now. after seeing what I had seen. We all broke and fled. the idea of that gentle little creature. I did not want to see the murder done. and everything swam around me. for certainly it was a very funny idea—at that time—I mean. One by one the boys and girls crept out. two or three of us glanced back to see if Benoist was gaining on us. As we reached the wood that borders the grassy clearing and jumped into its shelter. but went steadily on.Well. and yet I could not take my eyes away. and raised an ax as he came. Then she stopped. We left the black flag there to continue its mournful office. and we stood there gazing. to give warning. he kept it up like that till he made their sides ache with laughing. The ax was in her other hand. holding him by his hand. The sight was sickening. the girls screaming and crying. Then I saw him stop. open-mouthed. All the people were flocking to the little square 34 . Now I saw Joan step forward to meet the man. and I could not see anything for a time—whether long or brief I do not know. He threatened her with his ax. yes. the person that laughs last has the best chance. giddy. rushing into battle with a gang of soldiers at her back. until she was right in front of him—right under his ax. and seemed to begin to talk with him.

" said the Sunflower. I have fed him through the bars of his cage many times." It made everybody laugh. and likes me." "Why didn't you?" She thought a moment. and got privately away and went back to the Fairy Tree. "Why didn't you run when we did?" 35 .in front of the church to talk and exclaim and wonder over the event. and so his likings and his gratitude and friendliness go for nothing when his rage is up. I dressed his hand every day till it was well again. She had to tear herself away and go and hide. and asked her how she had dared to do that thing. to get relief from the embarrassment of those questionings." "Didn't you feel afraid?" "No—at least not much—very little. I was so ashamed that I made an excuse to the first comer. but had to give it up. There I found Joan. One by one the others shirked the inquirers and joined us in our refuge. this glory was so trying to her diffidence. and crying. when they chopped off two of his fingers to remind him to stop seizing and wounding people passing by. and the men patted her on the head and said they wished she was a man. but she was there to get relief from the embarrassment of glory." "Didn't he threaten you more than once?" "Yes. it was not a great matter." "That is all well enough. I know him. You did a perilous thing. Then we gathered around Joan. dear." said Little Mengette. It was not as if I had been a stranger to the man. and said: "You make a great thing of it. "but he is a madman. She was very modest about it. and he knows me. Of course the people began to ask us for the particulars. and have known him long. and praising her. Cecile Letellier asked. "Didn't he threaten to kill you with the ax?" "Yes. but you mistake. and it even made the town forget the black news of the treaty for two or three hours. they would send her to the wars and never doubt but that she would strike some blows that would be heard of. Then the Sunflower said it was like a lamb trying to think out how it had come to eat a wolf. then said. All the women kept hugging and kissing Joan. quite simply: "I don't know." "Of course you did. and last December.

"Because it was necessary to get him to his cage; else he would kill some one. Then he would come to the like harm himself." It is noticeable that this remark, which implies that Joan was entirely forgetful of herself and her own danger, and had thought and wrought for the preservation of other people alone, was not challenged, or criticized, or commented upon by anybody there, but was taken by all as matter of course and true. It shows how clearly her character was defined, and how well it was known and established. There was silence for a time, and perhaps we were all thinking of the same thing—namely, what a poor figure we had cut in that adventure as contrasted with Joan's performance. I tried to think up some good way of explaining why I had run away and left a little girl at the mercy of a maniac armed with an ax, but all of the explanations that offered themselves to me seemed so cheap and shabby that I gave the matter up and remained still. But others were less wise. Noel Rainguesson fidgeted awhile, then broke out with a remark which showed what his mind had been running on: "The fact is, I was taken by surprise. That is the reason. If I had had a moment to think, I would no more have thought of running that I would think of running from a baby. For, after all, what is Theophile Benoist, that I should seem to be afraid of him? Pooh! the idea of being afraid of that poor thing! I only wish he would come along now—I'd show you!" "So do I!" cried Pierre Morel. "If I wouldn't make him climb this tree quicker than—well, you'd see what I would do! Taking a person by surprise, that way—why, I never meant to run; not in earnest, I mean. I never thought of running in earnest; I only wanted to have some fun, and when I saw Joan standing there, and him threatening her, it was all I could do to restrain myself from going there and just tearing the livers and lights out of him. I wanted to do it bad enough, and if it was to do over again, I would! If ever he comes fooling around me again, I'll—" "Oh, hush!" said the Paladin, breaking in with an air of disdain; "the way you people talk, a person would think there's something heroic about standing up and facing down that poor remnant of a man. Why, it's nothing! There's small glory to be got in facing him down, I should say. Why, I wouldn't want any better fun than to face down a hundred like him. If he was to come along here now, I would walk up to him just as I am now—I wouldn't care if he had a thousand axes—and say—" And so he went on and on, telling the brave things he would say and the wonders he would do; and the others put in a word from time to time, describing over again the gory marvels they would do if ever that


madman ventured to cross their path again, for next time they would be ready for him, and would soon teach him that if he thought he could surprise them twice because he had surprised them once, he would find himself very seriously mistaken, that's all. And so, in the end, they all got back their self-respect; yes, and even added somewhat to it; indeed when the sitting broke up they had a finer opinion of themselves than they had ever had before.




Domremy Pillaged and Burned
THEY WERE peaceful and pleasant, those young and smoothly flowing days of ours; that is, that was the case as a rule, we being remote from the seat of war; but at intervals roving bands approached near enough for us to see the flush in the sky at night which marked where they were burning some farmstead or village, and we all knew, or at least felt, that some day they would come yet nearer, and we should have our turn. This dull dread lay upon our spirits like a physical weight. It was greatly augmented a couple of years after the Treaty of Troyes. It was truly a dismal year for France. One day we had been over to have one of our occasional pitched battles with those hated Burgundian boys of the village of Maxey, and had been whipped, and were arriving on our side of the river after dark, bruised and weary, when we heard the bell ringing the tocsin. We ran all the way, and when we got to the square we found it crowded with the excited villagers, and weirdly lighted by smoking and flaring torches. On the steps of the church stood a stranger, a Burgundian priest, who was telling the people news which made them weep, and rave, and rage, and curse, by turns. He said our old mad King was dead, and that now we and France and the crown were the property of an English baby lying in his cradle in London. And he urged us to give that child our allegiance, and be its faithful servants and well-wishers; and said we should now have a strong and stable government at last, and that in a little time the English armies would start on their last march, and it would be a brief one, for all that it would need to do would be to conquer what odds and ends of our country yet remained under that rare and almost forgotten rag, the banner of France. The people stormed and raged at him, and you could see dozens of them stretch their fists above the sea of torch-lighted faces and shake them at him; and it was all a wild picture, and stirring to look at; and the priest was a first-rate part of it, too, for he stood there in the strong glare


and looked down on those angry people in the blandest and most indifferent way, so that while you wanted to burn him at the stake, you still admired the aggravating coolness of him. And his winding-up was the coolest thing of all. For he told them how, at the funeral of our old King, the French King-at-Arms had broken his staff of office over the coffin of "Charles VI. and his dynasty," at the same time saying, in a loud voice, "God grant long life to Henry, King of France and England, our sovereign lord!" and then he asked them to join him in a hearty Amen to that! The people were white with wrath, and it tied their tongues for the moment, and they could not speak. But Joan was standing close by, and she looked up in his face, and said in her sober, earnest way: "I would I might see thy head struck from thy body!"—then, after a pause, and crossing herself—"if it were the will of God." This is worth remembering, and I will tell you why: it is the only harsh speech Joan ever uttered in her life. When I shall have revealed to you the storms she went through, and the wrongs and persecutions, then you will see that it was wonderful that she said but one bitter thing while she lived. From the day that that dreary news came we had one scare after another, the marauders coming almost to our doors every now and then; so that we lived in ever-increasing apprehension, and yet were somehow mercifully spared from actual attack. But at last our turn did really come. This was in the spring of '28. The Burgundians swarmed in with a great noise, in the middle of a dark night, and we had to jump up and fly for our lives. We took the road to Neufchateau, and rushed along in the wildest disorder, everybody trying to get ahead, and thus the movements of all were impeded; but Joan had a cool head—the only cool head there—and she took command and brought order out of that chaos. She did her work quickly and with decision and despatch, and soon turned the panic flight into a quite steady-going march. You will grant that for so young a person, and a girl at that, this was a good piece of work. She was sixteen now, shapely and graceful, and of a beauty so extraordinary that I might allow myself any extravagance of language in describing it and yet have no fear of going beyond the truth. There was in her face a sweetness and serenity and purity that justly reflected her spiritual nature. She was deeply religious, and this is a thing which sometimes gives a melancholy cast to a person's countenance, but it was not so in her case. Her religion made her inwardly content and joyous; and if she was troubled at times, and showed the pain of it in her face


and bearing, it came of distress for her country; no part of it was chargeable to her religion. A considerable part of our village was destroyed, and when it became safe for us to venture back there we realized what other people had been suffering in all the various quarters of France for many years—yes, decades of years. For the first time we saw wrecked and smoke-blackened homes, and in the lanes and alleys carcasses of dumb creatures that had been slaughtered in pure wantonness—among them calves and lambs that had been pets of the children; and it was pity to see the children lament over them. And then, the taxes, the taxes! Everybody thought of that. That burden would fall heavy now in the commune's crippled condition, and all faces grew long with the thought of it. Joan said: "Paying taxes with naught to pay them with is what the rest of France has been doing these many years, but we never knew the bitterness of that before. We shall know it now." And so she went on talking about it and growing more and more troubled about it, until one could see that it was filling all her mind. At last we came upon a dreadful object. It was the madman—hacked and stabbed to death in his iron cage in the corner of the square. It was a bloody and dreadful sight. Hardly any of us young people had ever seen a man before who had lost his life by violence; so this cadaver had an awful fascination for us; we could not take our eyes from it. I mean, it had that sort of fascination for all of us but one. That one was Joan. She turned away in horror, and could not be persuaded to go near it again. There—it is a striking reminder that we are but creatures of use and custom; yes, and it is a reminder, too, of how harshly and unfairly fate deals with us sometimes. For it was so ordered that the very ones among us who were most fascinated with mutilated and bloody death were to live their lives in peace, while that other, who had a native and deep horror of it, must presently go forth and have it as a familiar spectacle every day on the field of battle. You may well believe that we had plenty of matter for talk now, since the raiding of our village seemed by long odds the greatest event that had really ever occurred in the world; for although these dull peasants may have thought they recognized the bigness of some of the previous occurrences that had filtered from the world's history dimly into their minds, the truth is that they hadn't. One biting little fact, visible to their eyes of flesh and felt in their own personal vitals, became at once more prodigious to them than the grandest remote episode in the world's


history which they had got at second hand and by hearsay. It amuses me now when I recall how our elders talked then. They fumed and fretted in a fine fashion. "Ah, yes," said old Jacques d'Arc, "things are come to a pretty pass, indeed! The King must be informed of this. It is time that he cease from idleness and dreaming, and get at his proper business." He meant our young disinherited King, the hunted refugee, Charles VII. "You say well," said the maire. "He should be informed, and that at once. It is an outrage that such things would be permitted. Why, we are not safe in our beds, and he taking his ease yonder. It shall be made known, indeed it shall—all France shall hear of it!" To hear them talk, one would have imagined that all the previous ten thousand sackings and burnings in France had been but fables, and this one the only fact. It is always the way; words will answer as long as it is only a person's neighbor who is in trouble, but when that person gets into trouble himself, it is time that the King rise up and do something. The big event filled us young people with talk, too. We let it flow in a steady stream while we tended the flocks. We were beginning to feel pretty important now, for I was eighteen and the other youths were from one to four years older—young men, in fact. One day the Paladin was arrogantly criticizing the patriot generals of France and said: "Look at Dunois, Bastard of Orleans—call him a general! Just put me in his place once—never mind what I would do, it is not for me to say, I have no stomach for talk, my way is to act and let others do the talking—but just put me in his place once, that's all! And look at Saintrailles—pooh! and that blustering La Hire, now what a general that is!" It shocked everybody to hear these great names so flippantly handled, for to us these renowned soldiers were almost gods. In their far-off splendor they rose upon our imaginations dim and huge, shadowy and awful, and it was a fearful thing to hear them spoken of as if they were mere men, and their acts open to comment and criticism. The color rose in Joan's face, and she said: "I know not how any can be so hardy as to use such words regarding these sublime men, who are the very pillars of the French state, supporting it with their strength and preserving it at daily cost of their blood. As for me, I could count myself honored past all deserving if I might be allowed but the privilege of looking upon them once—at a distance, I mean, for it would not become one of my degree to approach them too near."


The Paladin was disconcerted for a moment, seeing by the faces around him that Joan had put into words what the others felt, then he pulled his complacency together and fell to fault-finding again. Joan's brother Jean said: "If you don't like what our generals do, why don't you go to the great wars yourself and better their work? You are always talking about going to the wars, but you don't go." "Look you," said the Paladin, "it is easy to say that. Now I will tell you why I remain chafing here in a bloodless tranquillity which my reputation teaches you is repulsive to my nature. I do not go because I am not a gentleman. That is the whole reason. What can one private soldier do in a contest like this? Nothing. He is not permitted to rise from the ranks. If I were a gentleman would I remain here? Not one moment. I can save France—ah, you may laugh, but I know what is in me, I know what is hid under this peasant cap. I can save France, and I stand ready to do it, but not under these present conditions. If they want me, let them send for me; otherwise, let them take the consequences; I shall not budge but as an officer." "Alas, poor France—France is lost!" said Pierre d'Arc. "Since you sniff so at others, why don't you go to the wars yourself, Pierre d'Arc?" "Oh, I haven't been sent for, either. I am no more a gentleman than you. Yet I will go; I promise to go. I promise to go as a private under your orders—when you are sent for." They all laughed, and the Dragon-fly said: "So soon? Then you need to begin to get ready; you might be called for in five years—who knows? Yes, in my opinion you'll march for the wars in five years." "He will go sooner," said Joan. She said it in a low voice and musingly, but several heard it. "How do you know that, Joan?" said the Dragon-fly, with a surprised look. But Jean d'Arc broke in and said: "I want to go myself, but as I am rather young yet, I also will wait, and march when the Paladin is sent for." "No," said Joan, "he will go with Pierre." She said it as one who talks to himself aloud without knowing it, and none heard it but me. I glanced at her and saw that her knitting-needles were idle in her hands, and that her face had a dreamy and absent look in it. There were fleeting movements of her lips as if she might be occasionally saying parts of sentences to herself. But there was no sound, for


Then we asked him what he was going to answer when the King should require him to name his 43 . No. count me out. covered with common-soldier glory. I being superstitious and easily troubled by any little thing of a strange and unusual sort. and we got the Paladin to map out his campaigns and fight his battles and win his victories and extinguish the English and put our King upon his throne and set his crown upon his head. And besides. I shall stay at home. and I am with you there." Noel continued. We've got one gentleman in the commune. at any rate. and live till these wars are forgotten. Why can't the Scholar change name and condition with the Paladin? Then he can be an officer. except Jacques d'Arc. he will march at the back of Captain Paladin and die early. Noel Rainguesson said: "There is one way to let France have a chance for her salvation. "and at the eleventh hour Noel and the Paladin will join these." Joan muttered. "it's all arranged. and he will sweep these English and Burgundian armies into the sea like flies." "He will stay at home. who said: "I'll ask you to excuse me. but they seemed to be. there's nothing to do but organize under the Paladin's banner and go forth and rescue France." "He will march with Jean and Pierre. but not of their own desire. It makes one feel creepy to hear such things. because I could read and write.I was the nearest person to her and I heard nothing. and I've always thought I should go soldiering about this time. but the look of our wrecked village and that carved-up and bloody madman have taught me that I am not made for such work and such sights. The Sieur de Conte will easily agree to that. "Come. no. and grow old in peace and tranquillity. France will send for him then." murmured Joan. You'll all join?" All said yes. The talk rattled on in the gay and careless fashion privileged to youth. That was my nickname. But I set my ears open." The voice was so low that I was not perfectly sure that these were the words. Face swords and the big guns and death? It isn't in me. somebody must be left behind to take care of our Joan and her sister. It is pleasant to talk war. Since you are going to carry Jean and Pierre to the wars. and deputy prop and protector of the family. now. and the Sunflower said: "That is the very thing—it settles every difficulty. I could never be at home in that trade." I was the Scholar. There was a chorus of approval. for those two speeches had affected me uncannily. Yes. but not grow old. I'm the eldest son.

and make me Hereditary Lord High Constable of France. and seeing how faithfully she made them good when the time came. and she gave it. She sat considering some moments. then she said: "If the Dauphin. and they rallied her out of her dreams and asked her to testify. 'Now that I am rich and am come to my own again. and she had heard none of this latter part of our talk. We did not laugh. but there came a day when we remembered that speech with a mournful pride. name me premier peer. and said." Meaning Joan. each person present was required to say what reward he would demand of the King if he could change places with the Paladin and do the wonders the Paladin was going to do. Every one would have said that. She supposed they wanted a serious answer. but when it came to Joan's turn. and were glad that we had not laughed. but fell to thinking.reward." It was so simple and out of her heart that it touched us and we did not laugh. though nobody suspected it at that time. should say to me. are you?" The Paladin colored a trifle. and each of us tried to outdo his predecessors in the extravagance of the reward he would claim. for her thought had been absent. choose and have. There was no fit mate in that village for Joan of Arc. 44 . asking just that boon of the King and refusing to take even any least thing for herself. the Paladin would have been finely ridiculed for his vanity.' I should kneel and ask him to give command that our village should nevermore be taxed. The answers were given in fun. In turn." "And marry you to a princess—you're not going to leave that out. brusquely: "He may keep his princesses—I can marry more to my taste. The Paladin had it all arranged in his head. perceiving then how honest her words had been. If any had. they had to explain to her what the question was. and brought it out promptly: "He shall give me a dukedom. out of his grace and nobleness.

yet gave me glimpses of them. Many a time the idea crossed my mind that she had a secret—a secret which she was keeping wholly to herself. better than the rest. as usual. but that was mere lying. Now it was such a pain to lie to her. I started on the new policy by saying—still opening up with a 45 . The day after the conversation which I have been reporting we were together in the pastures and fell to talking about France. She was carrying France upon her heart. But now for a whole year and a half she had been mainly grave. for really there was not anything to hang a rag of hope for France upon. and cost me such shame to offer this treachery to one so snow-pure from lying and treachery. and even from suspicion of such baseness in others. and she found the burden not light. and so I knew. This idea had come to me because several times she had cut a sentence in two and changed the subject when apparently she was on the verge of a revelation of some sort. but given to thought. as well from me as from the others. I knew that this was her trouble. had made her everybody's pet. with a hop-skip-and-jump gait and a happy and catching laugh. abstraction. but others attributed her abstraction to religious ecstasy.Chapter 6 Joan and Archangel Michael ALL THROUGH her childhood and up to the middle of her fourteenth year. not melancholy. what was absorbing her interest. as she was. dreams. Joan had been the most light-hearted creature and the merriest in the village. and sometimes the war news had sobered her spirits and wrung her heart and made her acquainted with tears. that I was resolved to face about now and begin over again. and this disposition. but not just yet. supplemented by her warm and sympathetic nature and frank and winning ways. She had been a hot patriot all this time. I was to find this secret out. For her sake I had always talked hopefully before. and never insult her more with deception. but always when these interruptions had run their course her spirits rose and she was her old self again. for she did not share her thinkings with the village at large.

without one charitable soft place in it—it seemed a shameful thing." I did not look her in the face while I was saying it. he means to make no further resistance. they are correct. hasn't a farthing to his name. but coaxed downstairs a step at a time: "Joan. There are the facts. Our King is shut up with his favorites and fools in inglorious idleness and poverty in a narrow little patch of the kingdom—a sort of back lot. as one may say—and has no authority there or anywhere else. But when it was out. So I began: "Let us put sentiment and patriotic illusions aside. level tone: "What—that the case of France is hopeless?" "Necessarily. and that to-day it is more than desperate. it could not be expected of a person. to crush her hope with a so frankly brutal speech as that. the weight gone. There was none to see. and not to be flung out of the window by any man. At least none that I was expecting. I glanced at her face to see the result. What do they say? They speak as plainly as the figures in a merchant's account-book. To break her heart. and she said." It is a most pleasant thing to find that what you thought would inflict a hurt upon one whom you honor. There was a barely perceptible suggestion of wonder in her serious eyes. in an ordinary. has not done it. he is not fighting. doubt of it is impossible. that it has been desperate ever since Agincourt. there is but one thing that he is intending to do—give the whole thing up. but that was all. and it was. he is not intending to fight. that the case of France is desperate.small lie. that one-half of its property is already in the English sheriff's hands and the other half in nobody's—except those of irresponsible raiders and robbers confessing allegiance to nobody." She asked." 46 . nor a regiment of soldiers. in truth. and run away to Scotland. and have concluded that we have been in the wrong all this time. One has only to add the two columns up to see that the French house is bankrupt. and look at the facts in the face. of course. and my conscience rising to the surface. I was relieved now. it is hopeless. for habit is habit. pitch his crown into the sewer. in her simple and placid way: "The case of France hopeless? Why should you think that? Tell me. I have been thinking the thing all over last night. In face of these facts." "Then it is as I have said: one needs but to add them together in order to realize what they mean. and could say all my say without any furtivenesses and without embarrassment. Are they correct?" "Yes.

" It seemed to me that her clear intellect must surely be clouded to-day. in the circumstances? Joan. It must be so. under the French flag. all France is gone. this whole northern half of the country is in the tight grip of the English. She said. Now. but distinct: "Yes. the French will run." 47 . it is true. And so it is a common saying to-day that if you confront fifty French soldiers with five English ones. Here—I want to make a picture of them. Do not doubt it." "Now. and surely the sum is complete: When have French soldiers won a victory? Scotch soldiers. you." "Yes. east and west. Since eight thousand Englishmen nearly annihilated sixty thousand Frenchmen a dozen years ago at Agincourt. opposition is dead. this rough outline is France. France has ceased to exist. the Loire." "Yes. that there was no longer any ground for hope. which worships France."How can you say that? How can you feel like that?" "How can I? How could I think or feel in any other way. and disappointed also. your heart. is beguiling your head. with these fatal figures before. Perhaps if I marshaled them again she would see. What was France is now but a British province. France is already lost. have you really any hope for France—really and actually?" "Hope—oh. she can assume full possession whenever she may choose. In very truth. and just touched with emotion. more than that! France will win her freedom and keep it. So I said: "Joan. Is this true?" Her voice was low. I thought it could not fail to be clear to her." "Very well." "It is a pity. Through its middle. Now add this clinching fact. and that she would say. without any doubt in her tone: "France will rise again. French courage has been paralyzed. But I was mistaken." "Then certainly the day for hoping is past. but even these things are true." I believed the case would be clear to her now. have won a barren fight or two a few years back. You shall see. You are not perceiving the importance of these figures. but I am speaking of French ones. then." "And this whole southern half is really in nobody's hands at all—as our King confesses by meditating desertion and flight to a foreign land. England has armies here. or she would see that those figures could mean only one thing. I draw a river. herself. here on the ground with a stick.

But I watched her. They will answer. Her eye was clear and sane. Why."Rise?—with this burden of English armies on her back!" "She will cast it off. and still stood ready to give the wayfarer her bed and content herself with the floor. but it rang clear. No. just as always before. "Without soldiers to fight with?" "The drums will summon them. as usual?" "No. planning for others. and filled it with fantastic phantoms—yes." "Indeed? and who is going to perform all these sublime impossibilities?" "God. if I could believe that in thirty years from now the English domination would be broken and the French monarch's head find itself hooped with a real crown of sovereignty—" "Both will have happened before two years are sped. You have heard all the world talk of this matter which I am about to speak of. of a truth this makes one's head dizzy." "Well." "And the pauper King?" "He will mount his throne—he will wear his crown. to the front—ever to the front—always to the front! You shall see. and tested her. and they will march." It was a reverent low note. she will trample it under foot!" This with spirit. her ways were natural. sacrificing herself for others. it was still the soundest in the village and the best. and it was not so. '28—and when I got to the edge of the oak forest and was about to step out of it upon the turfy open space in which the haunted beech tree 48 . that must be it. but you have not heard an eyewitness talk of it before. It was inevitable that I should think of madness. there was nothing the matter with her mind. I was coming from over the ridge." "March to the rear. She went on thinking for others. and the way that it happened was this. She went on ministering to her sick and to her poor. What other way was there to account for such things? Grieving and brooding over the woes of France had weakened that strong mind. This was plain. Now the key did presently come into my hands. her speech direct and to the point. one day—it was the 15th of May. but madness was not the key to it. What could have put those strange ideas in her head? This question kept running in my mind during two or three days. There was a secret somewhere.

steeped in dreams. flooded with that transforming glory her mean peasant habit was become like to the raiment of the sun-clothed children of God as we see them thronging the terraces of the Throne in our dreams and imaginings.stood. My breath grew faint and difficult. and not conscious of herself or of the world. and her air was that of one who is lost to thought. and the joy. and bent her head low and crossed her hands upon her breast. Presently she rose and stood. that it was plain it was an act of worship. The day was overcast. whereas this brilliancy was so blinding that it pained my eyes and brought the water into them. Then the like of this must have happened before. with but a scarcely measurable interval of time between. and thought I would devise some sort of playful surprise for her. except it be the whiteness of lightnings. to an event destined to endure forever in histories and songs. and the wild creatures lose heart and are afraid. first—then I took a step backward. there might be no doubt of that. Her head was bent a little toward the ground. Think of it—that trivial conceit was neighbor. and was so eloquent and so moving. but even the lightnings are not so intense as it was. and all that grassy space wherein the Tree stood lay in a soft rich shadow. but now all the birds burst forth into song. With the first note of those birds Joan cast herself upon her knees. for I saw a white shadow come slowly gliding along the grass toward the Tree. clothed her in its awful splendor. the rapture. withal. And now I saw a most strange thing. the ecstasy of it was beyond belief. with her head still bowed a little. with wings—and the whiteness of this shadow was not like any other whiteness that we know of. The wood had been silent—smitten with that deep stillness which comes when a storm-cloud darkens a forest. and 49 . Yes. became divine. all drenched with that wonderful light. and with her arms down and the ends of her fingers lightly laced together in front of her. for one can look at them without hurt. the extremity of it reached her. in her lap. For I had caught sight of Joan. In that immortal light her face. Her hands lay loosely. flowed over her. Had the song of the birds told her it was coming? It had that look to me. and standing so. I uncovered my head. Joan sat on a natural seat formed by gnarled great roots of the Tree. one reposing in the other. The shadow approached Joan slowly. Another strange thing. It was of grand proportions—a robed form. She had not seen the shadow yet. perceiving that I was in the presence of something not of this world. I happened to cast a glance from cover. and stood in the shelter and concealment of the foliage. because of the terror and the awe that possessed me. only humanly beautiful before.

and see if this mark is still here. I reflected that I had been intruding upon a mystery of God—and what might my punishment be? I was afraid. and I made out no more of her words. and was broken by sobs. and lead armies?—I a girl. After a little she raised her head. nor ride it… . how can I talk with men. and went deeper into the wood. saying to myself. she seemed to listen—but I heard nothing. nor how to mount a horse. be comrade with men?—soldiers! It would give me over to insult. Yet—if it is commanded—" Her voice sank a little. and began to plead. Then I carved a mark in the bark of a tree. and ignorant of such things. Then I came to myself. How can I go to the great wars. I heard some of the words. imploringly. it may be that I am dreaming and have not seen this vision at all. I heard her say: "But I am so young! oh. so young to leave my mother and my home and go out into the strange world to undertake a thing so great! Ah. when I know that I am awake and not dreaming. I will come again. and rude usage. 50 . then I shall know. and contempt. and then clasped her hands and lifted them high.yet apparently not knowing it. knowing nothing of arms. and looked up as one might look up toward the face of a giant.

Joan?" "Are you dreaming now?" "I—I suppose not. It startled me." I felt myself turning cold with fright. It was Joan's voice. And yow were not dreaming when you cut the mark in the tree. I knew I was awake now and free from the spell. I think I am not. for now I knew of a certainty that I had not been dreaming. and in the dream I saw you right here where you are standing now." "Indeed you are not. I've got such a wonderful thing to tell you about! You would never imagine it. the fairies have done this. it was just as if she had been away and lost. but not looking as she had looked in the dream. For she was not crying now. "how can you know about it. for no spell can withstand this exorcism. It was almost as if she had been in a trance all that time and had come awake again. it is all dream—voice. and a something like exaltation showed itself in her face and bearing. Her old-time energy and fire were back. I've had a dream. and I was so glad that I felt like running to call everybody and have them flock around her and give her welcome. and I began to feel afraid again. and was come back to us at last. I know you are not. but had really been in the presence of a dread something not of this world. vision and all. and I stepped at once from under cover. Joan. Really. "Not a dream?" I said. to break the enchantment. So I crossed myself and pronounced the name of God. I ran to her excited and said: "Ah. and—" But she put up her hand and said: "It was not a dream." It gave me a shock. Then I remembered that my sinful feet were 51 . for how could she know I was there? I said to myself. and there indeed was Joan. but was looking as she had used to look a year and a half before. Then I heard my name called again.Chapter 7 She Delivers the Divine Command I HEARD my name called. when her heart was light and her spirits high. it is part of the dream.

" When she was ready to begin. that is what I call them to myself. and I was told why. I checked her and said: "First tell me this. now. it was this that made you thoughtful and not as you were before. and they speak to me. then. also." "It is this. but others do not. the chief and lord of the armies of heaven. To-day it has been otherwise. Come with me. but it will not be visible again to any." "Has none seen that white shadow before but me?" "No one. But only you." "It was a sign to me. They are very dear to me—my Voices. what do they tell you?" 52 . attended by myriads of angels." I could but cross myself and tremble for having polluted that ground with my feet. Why did you not tell us about it?" "It was not permitted. I will soon come to that. many times." "With it comes speech. I moved quickly away. but none could see it. you are not in danger. then you will see. Joan followed. that has changed you. I was afraid the first time." "When was that. Several saints come. how did you know I cut a mark in the tree?" "Wait a little." "But tell me one thing now. then—and a sign with a meaning of some kind?" "Yes. and said: "Do not be afraid. because this was not the first time. I hear their voices." "So long? Have you seen him many times?" "Yes. but do not be disturbed. You could not see me in the wood. I see it now. It was the shadow of an archangel—Michael. what was that awful shadow that I saw?" "I will tell you. indeed there is no need. and soon I shall tell all. It is permitted now. I was not afraid. smitten to the bones with fear." "Strange—that that dazzling light could rest upon an object before one's eyes and not be visible. but I may not speak of that. Joan? Did you see his face—did you see his form?" "Yes. We will sit by the spring and I will tell you all my secret. Joan?" "It is nearly three years ago now. It has fallen upon me before when you and others were present. It must remain a secret for a few days still.upon holy ground—the ground where that celestial shadow had rested." "Joan. "You were not afraid.

Joan? You. For one little moment or two the thought crushed me. So that I knew what was going to happen before it happened." "What things have they been used to tell you?" She sighed." As she said those last words a sudden deep glow shone in her eyes. that is all I know. a child. they will not come again. they have not lied to-day. and humiliation. and the end will follow swiftly. and in His protection. sharp and swift. my Voices have said it." These were tremendous sayings. It could not be otherwise. I am to lead His armies. and not fitted for the rough life of camps and the companionship of soldiers. Her breast heaved. governor of Vaucouleurs." "They spoke of them to you beforehand?" "Yes. I am enlisted. Not until to-day. They say I am to go to Robert de Baudricourt. and so. and by His command. and by His strength. It made me grave—as you saw. They were impossibilities to my reason. it will be as they have said." "Where will it be struck?" "My Voices have not said. I will not turn back."All manner of things—about France. More than that: France was to be rescued." I was amazed. a child and ignorant—ignorant of everything that pertains to war. But always there was a word of hope. my 53 . till the English grip is loosed from the throat of France. and setting the crown upon the Dauphin's head—for such is God's will. before it is struck. for they say only that which is true. and said: "Disasters—only disasters. A year from now a blow will be struck which will be the beginning of the end. and shall I doubt it? No. There was naught else to foretell. which I was to see there many times in after-days when the bugles sounded the charge and learn to call it the battle-light. and said: "You. and follow it with others. and he will give me men-atarms for escort and send me to the King. God has chosen the meanest of His creatures for this work. and set the crown upon the head of His servant that is Dauphin and shall be King. but to my heart they rang true. and win back France. undoing in ten weeks England's long years of costly labor. God helping me. It is appointed me to strike it. too. My Voices have never told me lies. nor what will happen this present year. while my reason doubted. and misfortunes. and the color rose in her face. lead armies?" "Yes. But those weak moments passed. "But to-day I know. I mean. not mine. But how and by whom—that was not told. and made great and free again. for it is as you say—I am only a child.

She moved and spoke with energy and decision. for if the governor will not receive me I will dictate a letter to him. and they asserted that authority as plainly as speech could have done it. or that I should march at all. In the evening she said to me: "I leave before dawn. she had always accorded me the deference due my rank. and so also will Jean and Pierre. You will go 54 . and now I am glad that I am to march with you to the great wars—that is. Presently I said: "Joan. I go first to Burey. and so must have some one by me who knows the art of how to write and spell the words. and kept the faith I promised. She bade me keep these and the other revelations to myself for the present. she and I changed places. But she did not remember about it. she gave orders. yet without ostentation or bravado. This new light in the eye and this new bearing were born of the authority and leadership which had this day been vested in her by the decree of God. but not Jacques. I go to speak with the governor of Vaucouleurs as commanded. or in a trance or an ecstasy of some kind. and held fast to the belief from that day. as was revealed to me lately. to persuade my uncle Laxart to go with me. and also a something wholly new and remarkable in her carriage and in the set of her head. remained with her thenceforth until her mission was accomplished. This calm consciousness of command. not suggestions. and calm unconscious outward expression of it." "All true—it is so ordered. Like the other villagers. I received them with the deference due a superior. I may need you in Vaucouleurs. and perhaps refuse my prayer at this time. who will despise me and treat me rudely. it not being meet that I go alone. So then I knew that she had been asleep. but now. but how did you know?" "I shall march with you.heart believed—believed. and I said I would. I believe the things which you have said. without word said on either side. and said: "It is true that you will be with me when I go to the wars. if it is with you I am to march when I go. No one will know it but you. there was a strange new fire in her eye. at that time. How did you know these things?" I told her when it was that she had said them. None who met Joan that day failed to notice the change that had come over her. but I did not know until to-day that the marching would be with me. and obeyed them without comment." She looked surprised.

He had his steel cuirass on. audience. others that the siege would be long. There was a rumor. I went the next afternoon. the prolonged discussion ended. As for talk. and to 55 . if I would have her approval: go to Vaucouleurs. I knew what I must do now. I came again to the castle the next day at noon. for reward. and remain in Vaucouleurs until I need you. She knew that the governor. and when I looked at this martial figure. Every man seemed to sink himself in his own thoughts. and there was silence. but would have to content herself with the dictated letter. and heard the marvelous oaths. she would not have that. the next day I called at the castle and paid my respects to the governor. and what a just and level judgment. rough. would grant me. and with it France. who invited me to dine with him at noon of the following day. and guessed how little of poetry and sentiment might be looked for in this quarter. that Salisbury was making preparations to march against Orleans. she carried her good name unsmirched to the end. and wore boots that came above his knees. and she went her way. others that he could not accomplish the investment before fall. keep out of her sight. being a noble." I said I would obey. and was equipped with a huge sword. She did not order me to go with her. either. A poor peasant-girl presenting a petition through a young nobleman—how would that look? She always protected her modesty from hurt. At the small table sat several other guests besides myself. and be ready when wanted. full of strange oaths acquired here and there and yonder in the wars and treasured as if they were decorations. Some believed he would march at once. but upon one thing all voices agreed: that Orleans must eventually fall. and bravely contested. tall. It raised a turmoil of excited conversation. and at the general table sat the chief officers of the garrison. some one said. no. and so. He was an ideal soldier of the time. gray-headed. At the entrance door stood a guard of halberdiers. You see how clear a head she had. He had been used to the camp all his life. of course—the desperate situation of France. there was but one topic.from here to-morrow in the afternoon. in morion and breastplate. but no. another noble. and took an obscure lodging. she would not subject her good name to gossiping remark. and opinions fell thick and fast. With that. I hoped the little peasant-girl would not get the privilege of confronting this battery. brawny. and to his notion war was God's best gift to man. and was conducted to the great dining-hall and seated by the side of the governor at a small table which was raised a couple of steps higher than the general table. you see.

but remained there with his red nightcap crushed in his hands and bowing humbly here." There was a great and general burst of laughter. and it is this: that you will send and tell the Dauphin to wait and not give battle to his enemies. for I heard him mutter. there. and after that will remain master of France." "What Lord?" 56 . At the spectacle of the great people the courage oozed out of the poor old peasant and he stopped midway and would come no further. you are but a child!" "Yet am I appointed to do it. This sudden and profound stillness. where before had been so much animation. your Excellency." "H'm! A strange idea. and when it had subsided the governor said: "Who has sent you with these extravagant messages?" "My Lord. governor of Vaucouleurs." It was Joan and her uncle Laxart. erect and self-possessed. What further do you desire to say to me?" "This. for it is appointed that I shall drive the English out of France. nevertheless." This strange speech amazed the company. my child?" "My message is to you.forget where he was. it is a beautiful creature!" He inspected her critically a moment or two. Now came a servant and whispered something to the governor. He will wait. who said: "Would talk with me?" "Yes. and many murmured. She recognized me." "What for?" "That he may make me his general. as you call him—needs no message of that sort. was impressive and solemn. But Joan came steadily forward. then said: "Well. and set the crown upon his head. certainly. To beg that you will give me an escort of men-at-arms and send me to the Dauphin. There was a buzz of admiration." "What—you? Why. and stood before the governor. but in no way indicated it. "The poor young thing is demented. "By God's grace. for God will presently send him help. Bring them in. even the governor contributing to it. give yourself no uneasiness as to that. what is your errand." The governor scowled. stupefied with embarrassment and fear. Robert de Baudricourt. and everywhere." "Indeed! And when will all this happen?" "Next year he will be crowned. and said: "What nonsense is this? The King—or the Dauphin.

That is the best cure for her ailment." As Joan was moving away she turned and said. "Ah. her mind is but a wreck!" The governor hailed Laxart. after she was gone. Yes. for it is my Lord that has commanded you. poor thing. and said: "Harkye!—take this mad child home and whip her soundly. "Ah. 57 . Domremy was already buzzing with it when we got back. it is He that has made the command." There was a great deal of wondering talk. I know not why. and yet again. poor thing!" and others."The King of Heaven. with simplicity: "You refuse me the soldiers. and the guards and servants passed the talk to the town. then I shall have the men-at-arms." Many murmured. the town passed it to the country. therefore I must come again.

and now he remembered that dream with apprehension and anger. Her father was so incensed that he could not talk in measured terms about her wild project of going to the wars like a man. it has nothing but scorn for defeat. so all the tongues were busy with the matter. and that if they should refuse. The Paladin had the effrontery to pretend that she had engaged herself to 58 . The village considered that Joan had disgraced it with her grotesque performance and its ridiculous failure. and showed no distress. and when it was seen that her purpose continued steadfast. he would do it with his own hands. and mocked at her. and ceased neither day nor night from their witticisms and jeerings and laughter. In public she carried herself with serenity. some time before. but the storm was too strong for her other friends. being ashamed to be seen with her because she was so unpopular.Chapter 8 Why the Scorners Relented HUMAN NATURE is the same everywhere: it defies success. He had dreamed of her doing such a thing. Those persons who did not scold did what was worse and harder to bear. the parents were glad of a chance which finally offered itself for bringing her projects to an end through marriage. Her parents kept a strict watch upon her to keep her from leaving the village. nor any resentment—conduct which should have softened the feeling against her. for they ridiculed her. that when the time to go was come she should know it. but it did not. The summer wasted along. and as bilious and bitter as they were busy. She shed tears in secret. but she said her time was not yet. and then the keepers would watch in vain. Haumette and Little Mengette and I stood by her. he would require her brothers to drown her. insomuch that if the tongues had been teeth she would not have survived her persecutions. and said that rather than see her unsex herself and go away with the armies. but none in public. and because of the sting of the taunts that assailed them on her account. But none of these things shook her purpose in the least. and they avoided her.

and refused to marry him. the clouds lowered darker and darker over France. and of no force. tranquil. and referring to her as "this marvelous child. and now he claimed a ratification of the engagement. And that was natural enough. when she declined to have counsel. for who would expect that an ignorant peasant-girl of sixteen would be otherwise than frightened and tongue-tied when standing for the first time in presence of the practised doctors of the law. until at last he stood bare. His previous testimony went rag by rag to ruin under her ingenious hands. saying she would content herself with examining the witnesses for the prosecution. She was modest. but at last there was a change. and gave her no direct commands." After this victory. confused. and gave Joan countenance. She called no witnesses. They flocked to Toul to see and enjoy this fright and embarrassment and defeat. pronounced it vague. she rose and reviewed their testimony in a few words. adding a few words of grave compliment for Joan. for the siege of Orleans was begun. nevertheless. and wore tediously along. and quite at her ease. and even her father relented and said he was proud of her. 59 . her parents and all her ill-wishers rejoiced. he that had come so richly clothed in fraud and falsehood. and surrounded by the cold solemnities of a court? Yet all these people were mistaken. and threw out the case. compliment. with this high praise from so imposing a source added. but the court declined to hear it. The winter set in. His counsel began an argument. and still her Voices said wait. Her mother took her back to her heart. the fickle village turned again. She was cited to appear before the ecclesiastical court at Toul to answer for her perversity. and looked upon her as already defeated. She said his statement was not true. so to speak. When they had testified. and elected to conduct her case herself. and peace. But the time hung heavy on her hands.him several years before. then she placed the Paladin again on the stand and began to search him. and they had their trouble for their pains.

Part 2 In Court and Camp 60 .

Chapter 1 Joan Says Good-By THE 5th of January. not trimming it or polishing it. "I sent and asked him to come and persuade my mother to let him take me home with him to tend his wife. the other the Sieur Bertrand de Poulengy. "I also believe it. Who were the two cavaliers who sat to your left at the governor's table that day?" "One was the Sieur Jean de Novelonpont de Metz. to do with me as she will. I marked them for men of mine… . so I said: "They considered you out of your head. but clear. In two months I shall be with the Dauphin. Therefore with all humbleness I am at her command." "Good metal—good metal. "I believe it. I should have let her seek the governor by her own ways and held myself clear of meddling in the matter. It is arranged. But I have seen her stand before those nobles and mighty men unafraid. not doubting she was mad. and said so. That I know. I caught the infection and felt a great impulse stirring in me that was like what one feels when he hears the roll of the drums and the tramp of marching men." Joan said. both. Joan came to me with her uncle Laxart. that she was commanded of God to rescue France. and we go at dawn to-morrow. and said: "The time is come. "If she had told me before. 1429. and wait and strive until my prayer is granted. and say her say." 61 ." Her spirits were high. and her bearing martial." said Laxart. What is it I see in your face? Doubt?" I was teaching myself to speak the truth to her. who is not well. and she had not been able to do that but by the help of God. and they have told me what to do. I should not have believed. From his house I shall go soon to Vaucouleurs. but still they held you to be mad. My Voices are not vague now." "My uncle is very good to me." I said. It is true they pitied you for being in such misfortune.

for she knew she would not see them any more in this life. I shall be stronger. I shall see them presently. and that they did not belong here. and with them they will bring my parents' blessing. and pouring out their grief in loving words and tears.. sobbing bitterly. . I came to leave with you some instructions. and the oak forest. and the Fairy Tree. Order your affairs. they would refuse now. saying: "No. You seem to doubt again? Do you doubt?" "N-no. You will follow me in a few days. But as to matters now in hand." "They will come again.This did not seem to trouble her in any way or wound her. and the tears gathered in her eyes." She paused a little while. It was her birthday and mine. She only said: "The wise change their minds when they perceive that they have been in error. then—stronger for that. for you will be absent long." Next morning I brought Mengette. Bring her outside the village at dawn. and the flowery plain. She was seventeen years old. for lack of it I am weak now. and the river. 62 . but presently they will come. but only chanced to stop a day on their journey. These will. clinging about each other's neck. and went from us. a pitiful sight to see. They will march with me." "Will Jean and Pierre go with me?" "No. knowing I should never look upon her face again. she must go with me a little of the way—" "And Haumette?" She broke down and began to cry. then she turned. then she went on: "I would say good-by to Little Mengette.. then the two girls said their good-bys. And Joan took one long look back upon the distant village. I was remembering that it was a year ago. Not now. and we four walked along the road in the cold dawn till the village was far behind. oh. as if she was trying to print these scenes on her memory so that they would abide there always and not fade. I could not bear it. no—she is too dear to me. and likewise their consent that I take up my mission.

and still day after day the great tide rose. more than eight hundred years old. the excitement rose higher and higher. The common people flocked in crowds to look at her and speak with her. France was now. and found lodging and guardianship for her with Catherine Royer. and if any wished to talk with her about her mission—and many did—she talked freely. Domremy was dazed. At once the tidings spread that a young girl was come who was appointed of God to save France. doubtless this fair and pure young girl was commissioned of Heaven to complete the prophecy. I was soon housed near by. Laxart took Joan to Vaucouleurs. and her fair young loveliness won the half of their belief. earning her keep in that way. but that is their way. lost—and by a woman. Next. for the first time. and they did see and hear. And still they came. a wheelwright's wife. they more than filled it. and said to 63 . They filled the town. and so from Vaucouleurs wave after wave of this inspiring enthusiasm flowed out over the land. hear for themselves. amazed. what does he care for meat and roof so he can but get that nobler hunger fed? Day after day. inns and lodgings were packed. The well-to-do remained away and scoffed. and from these villages came people who wanted to see for themselves. winter as it was. Isabel of Bavaria. and yet half of the inflow had to go without shelter. she helped do the housework. and believe. making no concealments regarding the matter now. and witnessed the effects which followed. and her deep earnestness and transparent sincerity won the other half. a prophecy of Merlin's. stupefied. for when a man's soul is starving. which said that in a far future time France would be lost by a woman and restored by a woman.Chapter 2 The Governor Speeds Joan After a few days. an honest and good woman. was called to mind. and hope and faith along with it. Joan went to mass regularly. her base Queen. far and wide. This gave the growing interest a new and powerful impulse. invading all the villages and refreshing and revivifying the perishing children of France.

In case he shall not grant your prayer—" "He will grant it. she went and confronted the governor again. truly. These governors are stubborn people to deal with." Joan said. to see the people that came and hear what they said. serious way: "I am come to bid Robert de Baudricourt take or send me to the King. sure enough. it is a purpose. you have an admirable persistence. my child. She was disappointed. my little maid? Will they drive the King out of France. The brothers brought the parents' blessing and godspeed to Joan. and their promise to bring it to her in person later. and shall we all turn English?" She answered him in her tranquil. with this culminating happiness in her heart and the high hope it inspired. I can wait. and said: "What are you doing here.itself. and their progress to Vaucouleurs was like a triumph. It always happened that people who began in jest with her ended by being in earnest. stared at and envied like the great and fortunate of the earth. I must go to the Dauphin. He talked with her in a petting and playful way. He will grant it. and it could not maintain its 64 . "Was this world-wonder in our familiar midst all these years and we too dull to see it?" Jean and Pierre went out from the village. though I go on my knees." The gentleman's playful mood began to disappear—one could see that. but in no degree discouraged. and one day. and I may not disobey. a whole year has not turned you from your wish. I saw you when you came before. for so it is commanded. He must. They soon began to perceive depths in her that they had not suspected." I and the two brothers were with Joan daily. Joan's earnestness was affecting him. She said: "I must still come to you until I get the men-at-arms. perhaps it will not be wise to make too sure of that. and then her manifest sincerity and the rocklike steadfastness of her convictions were forces which cowed levity. as one talks with children. all the country-side flocking to see and salute the brothers of one with whom angels had spoken face to face. by his face." "Ah. He refused to send her to the King. the Sieur Jean de Metz came. But he was no more tractable than he had been before. as tranquilly as before: "It is not a wish. and so. It is not a matter of choice. but he does not heed my words." "Ah. and into whose hands by command of God they had delivered the destinies of France.

" "Who is your Lord?" "He is God. and that somewhat would come of it." The words had a pleading and pathetic sound. The priest performed his office. even though I wear away my legs to the knees!" She said it with that sort of repressed fieriness that means so much when a person's heart is in a thing. The governor had made up his mind to one thing: Joan was either a witch or a saint. and modified the scoffings of the people of quality and raised Joan's credit higher than ever." Then the Sieur de Metz. So in the morning the streets and lanes were packed with people waiting to see if this strange thing would indeed happen. attended by his guards. too. So he brought a priest with him to exorcise the devil that was in her in case there was one there. and said: "But indeed I would rather spin with my poor mother. there was sympathy there. but found no devil. The governor rode in state. quite soberly: "Is it necessary that you go to the King soon?—that is. then he began. toward evening. that the very governor himself was going to visit the young girl in her humble lodgings. following the impressive old feudal fashion. and should have known. neither kings. Joan dropped her voice a little. I saw it plainly. I mean—" "Before Mid-Lent. and he also pledged his oath and knightly honor to abide with her and follow her witherosever she might lead. This day. nor dukes. What is it that you would do? What is your hope and purpose?" "To rescue France. for he had already confessed her before this. you could see his eye light up. For no one else in the world.self-respect in their presence. and there is no help but in me. most earnestly: "God knows I think you should have the men-at-arms. but I must go and do it. and he meant to find out which it was. He merely hurt Joan's feelings and offended her piety without need. And happen it did. for this is not my calling. The Sieur de Metz was thoughtful for a moment or two. can recover the kingdom of France. and made a great sensation. The next day came the Sieur Bertrand de Poulengy. He said. and made oath that by God's help he himself would take her to the king. knelt and laid his hands within Joan's in sign of fealty. And it is appointed that I shall do it. no any other. and the news of it went everywhere. for it is my Lord's will. if he knew 65 . a great rumor went flying abroad through the town—namely. and they touched that good nobleman. You could see the response in that nobleman's face.

child. and will suffer yet greater injury if you do not send me to him soon. But it was no matter. and did it like a person perfectly versed in geography. She mapped out the course she would travel toward the King. and you are in fault to delay me so. too. but utter cries of anguish and the most profane and furious cursings whenever they are confronted with that holy office. Then Joan went to the castle and said: "In God's name. The governor went away troubled and full of thought. talking within himself. these waiting days are almost done." Joan said with fervor: "Now God be thanked. On the 20th Joan called her small army together—the two knights and her two brothers and me—for a private council of war. and this itinerary of daily marches was so arranged as to avoid here and there peculiarly dangerous regions by flank movements—which showed 66 . that devils cannot abide the confessional. but letting a great oath fall outside now and then. to-day? How can you know what has happened in that region to-day? It would take eight or ten days for the word to come. that is not the right name. Meantime the brothers and I took the horse in turn and began to learn to ride. She got no chance to try the horse and see if she could ride it. This occupied every waking moment she had. for her great first duty was to abide at her post and lift up the hopes and spirits of all who would come to talk with her. If it shall turn out as you say." The governor was perplexed by this speech." The governor walked the floor awhile. and wait. and not knowing what to do. No. several days went by and the 14th of February was come." Already the people of Vaucouleurs had given her a horse and had armed and equipped her as a soldier. and not otherwise. And while he pondered and studied. Her horse would find this out in the first hour. it was not a council. and have caused damage thereby. I will give you the letter and send you to the King. for this day the Dauphin's cause has lost a battle near Orleans. for she did not consult with us. And we had teaching in the use of the sword and other arms also. There was nothing she could not learn—and in the briefest time. A battle was lost to-day." "My Voices have brought the word to me. and it is true.anything. Robert de Baudricourt. and prepare them to help in the rescue and regeneration of the kingdom. she merely gave us orders. In nine days you will fetch me the letter. and said: "To-day. and finally he said: "Harkye! go in peace. you are too slow about sending me.

no doubt. Still she was not discouraged. The two knights were filled with wonder at her good sense and sagacity. and the Sieur Bertrand said: "Even if the governor shall really furnish the letter and the escort. no doubt it was so ordered. she glanced up wistfully whenever new bodies of strangers entered the house. and we should be ambushed and captured somewhere. leaving nothing to be done in haste and badly at the last moment. Otherwise we should be sent off with a grand demonstration which would advertise us to the enemy.that she knew her political geography as intimately as she knew her physical geography. and the tears came. and troubled. and will. but prudence forbade that they be told why this limit was named. so that you may make all needful preparation in time. She commanded us to make preparations to travel by night and sleep by day in concealment. I perceived that she had been diligently questioning those crowds of visiting strangers. but her parents did not appear. Then how can she venture to name that date? It is a great risk—a great risk to select and decide upon the date. her hopes perished. we may trust her. of course. We march the 23d. But when night fell at last. Finally she said: "Nothing remains. I must bear it. and that out of them she had patiently dug all this mass of invaluable knowledge. All day." I said: "Since she has named the 23d." Then we were dismissed. but thought her Voices must have taught her. The two knights were startled—yes. I think." De Metz tried to comfort her by saying: 67 . and was without education. yet she had never had a day's schooling. Also. the 23d. she dashed them away. at eleven of the clock at night. she commanded that we should keep the date of our departure a secret. The Voices have told her. We shall do best to obey. By her references to what this and that and the other person had told her. as almost the whole of our long journey would be through the enemy's country. since she meant to get away unobserved. but hoped on. But upon reflection I saw that this was not so. I was astonished. now. Joan's parents were notified to come before the 23d. in this state of uncertainty." We did obey. he still may not do it in time to meet the date she has chosen. and said: "It was to be so. but that I confide to you the date of our departure. however.

and said: "You said true." And it was so. Now go—come of it what may. Then he took off his sword. and gave Joan a letter to the King. and—" He got no further. and he went his way. The battle was lost. 68 . for she interrupted him. and belted it about her waist with his own hands. saying: "To what good end? We start at eleven to-night. with horses and equipment for me and for the brothers. At ten the governor came. So I have kept my word. All the lights in the house were at once put out." Joan gave him thanks. on the day you said."The governor sends no word. when the streets had become dark and still. child. it may be that they will come to-morrow. The lost battle was the famous disaster that is called in history the Battle of the Herrings. with his guard and arms. we crept stealthily through them and out at the western gate and rode away under whip and spur. and a little while after.

Chapter 3 The Paladin Groans and Boasts WE WERE twenty-five strong. and I remembered. and were finding it very difficult to stay in their saddles. for where were Noel and the Paladin. I woke at noon out of such a solid and stupefying sleep that at first my wits were all astray. and he had placed a veteran alongside of each with orders to help him stick to the saddle. and upon inquiry found that six of our men were peasants who had never ridden a horse before. and well equipped. As I lay there thinking over the strange events of the past month or two the thought came into my mind. who were to join us at the eleventh hour? By this time. they must continue the march. Joan and her brothers in the center of the column. They had been seized by the governor at the last moment and pressed into the service to make up the tale. Toward dawn we rode deep into a forest. with Jean de Metz at the head of it and the Sieur Bertrand at its extreme rear. We rode in double file. These poor devils had kept quiet as long as they could. In two or three hours we should be in the enemy's country. But we were within the enemy's country now. They preferred to stay with us. So. though Joan said that if they chose to take the risk they might depart. so there was no help for them. and moved cautiously. greatly surprising me. you see. and then none would venture to desert. that one of Joan's prophecies had failed. and I did not know where I was nor what had been happening. and soon all but the sentries were sound asleep in spite of the cold ground and the frosty air. and kill him if he tried to desert. and the new men were warned to keep their sorrows to themselves and not get the command into danger with their curses and lamentations. We modified our pace now. Then my senses cleared. being disturbed and troubled by 69 . By and by we began to hear groans and sobs and execrations from different points along the line. and moreover were now beginning to suffer considerable bodily torture. I had gotten used to expecting everything Joan said to come true. but their physical miseries were become so sharp by this time that they were obliged to give them vent.

" That pleased him. looking down in my face and waiting for me to wake. there stood the Paladin leaning against a tree and looking down on me! How often that happens. and not just an accident." He was charmed with this speech." "That is the right talk." He answered: "I marched with you last night. Some don't. but not by his own desire. I believe that wherever danger confronts you you will make yourself conspicuous. and jumped up and shook him by the hand. it is a noble cause. Then I said aloud: "I am glad you came. as people imagine. be that as it may. this is a lie. "I'm glad you know me. there was the Paladin. Well. and there he stands before you. for Joan's prophecy said he would join at the eleventh hour. I know it. presently. you think of a person. But they will. I hurried up from Domremy to join. and allowed me to come. anyway." "Sit at home! I could no more do it than the thunderstone could stay hid in the clouds when the storm calls it. I was too late. where have you dropped down from? And how did you happen to light in this place? And what do the soldier-clothes mean? Tell me all about it. It sounds like you.these thoughts. and led him a little way from the camp—he limping like a cripple—and told him to sit down. or speak of a person." 70 . I did. and it swelled him up like a bladder. "The prophecy has not all failed—half of it has come true.") "Yes. and said: "Now. He said: "If I know myself—and I think I do—my performances in this campaign will give you occasion more than once to remember those words. It looks as if his being near is really the thing that makes you think of him. I opened my eyes. and one should not sit at home in times like these. In fact. he is one of those six the governor recruited by force at the last moment." "That is what I think. That I know. but I begged so hard that the governor was touched by my brave devotion to my country's cause—those are the words he used—and so he yielded. I was ever so glad to see him. and was within a half a minute of being too late." "I were a fool to doubt it. Well. and you not dreaming he is near. They will know me well enough before I get done with this war." I thought to myself." "No!" (To myself I said.

I should say—to raise the fame of a private soldier above theirs. with complacency: "It is nothing." I said. He simply waved the compliment aside with his hand and said. to be a general of vast renown. like Noel Rainguesson and his sort. of course." "Why. I am not of the talking kind. He is sleeping yonder like a corpse. when did you see him last?" "Half an hour ago. and taking occasion at the same time to cant his morion over his right ear. look here. if I were in the place of La Hire. he asked me to let him come along in my protection. Then I said aloud: "It gives me joy. indeed." "You astonish me. Well. we arrived and saw the torches filing out at the Castle. what is that? Nothing—history is clogged and confused with them. but he suppressed betrayal of it as well as he could. who gave you that idea?" He was ready to burst with happiness. I take it—a novelty in this world. If I were where I belong. there are so many. Why. his name would outlast the human race! My friend. and said he wanted to go to his mother. he begged like a dog to be let off. when he found I was coming up from Domremy to volunteer. which gave him a very self-satisfied air—"I do not need to borrow my ideas. I see that. There is not keeping our lion-hearts at home in these great times. you do. "do you know that you have hit out a most remarkable idea there? Do you realize the gigantic proportions of it? For look you. or the Bastard of Orleans—well. Him a lion-heart!—that tumble-bug!" "Dear me. and extinguish the glory of their names with its shadow. he volunteered the way people do to the headsman. I will never doubt her prophecies again." I felt a great upleap in my heart. I have them often—ideas like that—and even greater ones. And there is plenty more where it came from"—tapping his head with his finger. I say nothing. he would stand alone! He would the be one moon in a firmament of mustard-seed stars. 71 . I do not consider this one much. now I am at rest and glad. still. why I supposed he volunteered. But it will be something. or Saintrailles. my friend. one cannot keep their names in his memory. and said to myself."I shall not be at my best. yes." "Lion-heart! Who—that baby? Why. But a common soldier of supreme renown—why. So it is really your own?" "Quite. the country will hear of me. I thank God. like Noel Rainguesson." "Speaking of Noel. and see the crowds and the excitement. Didn't he?" "Oh. It makes me proud of our village. Rode with us last night. being but a common soldier. Cried.

Yes. and at last the governor allowed me to join. Noel prized the society of the Paladin above everybody else's. consequently the development was taken in hand and diligently attended to and looked after. At bottom he was all right and a good-hearted giant. they had to hold him on. anyway. to the neglect and damage of far more important concerns. if I have any. But him—why. I hate a pygmy with half a heart and nine stomachs!" "Why. His careless light heart had to have somebody to nag and chaff and make fun of. Why didn't the saddle hurt me? Pooh—I was as much at home in it as if I had been born there. maybe I have. the defect was not of his own creation. and much good he'll do the King's service. And. saying he must go and look to his horse. and said: "I don't see how you can talk like that. and I am willing he shall speak his about mine. if one stops there and does not bite. but he must allow me to speak my mind about his faults. all the time. All those old soldiers admired my riding. for years. he was such a cry-baby. I like him. and he begged to be let off. but I reckon they'll bear inspection—I have that idea. for it is no harm to bark. I don't dislike him. he'll eat for six and run for sixteen. without any harm in him. and the governor had him seized.and ran there. they said they had never seen anything like it. because he was disgusted with him. and besides. if one is content to bray and not kick. A manly fellow! You should have heard him whine and wail and swear. it was the work of Noel Rainguesson. I don't see how you could have got such a notion. and it is no harm to be an ass. gnat-and-bull fashion. the Paladin had only needed development in order to meet its requirements. built it up and perfected it. for I don't allow myself to have prejudices against people. If this vast structure of brawn and muscle and vanity and foolishness seemed to have a libelous tongue. The result was an unqualified success. the Paladin unconsciously inflated his nostrils in lustful response. because the saddle hurt him. who had nurtured it. and I am sorry and disappointed to hear it. and I begged for his place. And yet it was the first time I was ever on a horse. last night. this is very surprising news to me. The big fellow was 72 . what of it? There was no malice behind it. and I'm not saying these things out of prejudice." An odor as of breakfast came stealing through the wood. and have always comraded with him from the cradle. along with four more. I'm sure I don't. but wouldn't let Noel off. and got up and limped painfully away. for the entertainment he got out of it. the Paladin preferred anybody's to Noel's." The Paladin gave me an outraged look. I thought he was a very manly fellow. fostered it. true enough.

But really he wasn't looking as delicate as he was feeling. I wasn't sorry. I had help. and he didn't know how to ride a horse." "How?" "Well. I had a talk with Noel. and he answered: "Yes. Noel. I overtook the Paladin on the road and let him have my company the rest of the way. Not that he would have prepared. and told him to shoulder that cask or he would carve him to 73 . but it was for the same reason that the bull is often seen with the gnat. for I hadn't ever had any experience of such things. He said his health was delicate. Still. for I do not think he would. of course. although he did not want it and said so. and he delivered an oath at him that knocked up the dust where it struck the ground. I welcomed him to our expedition. besides. No. he could also prepare to lie. In the same space of time that he could prepare to speak the truth. because he said he wasn't. it was rather fine.often seen with the little fellow." "Why?" "Because he said he wasn't. and he knew he couldn't outlive the first march. I think. and this was a great opportunity. a proper lift for four men. if he had had the chance." "Who helped you?" "The governor. you see. He begged like a slave. With the first opportunity. I am sure he was glad." "How did he feel about it? Was he satisfied?" "I think he was glad. I came up from Domremy to see the crowds and the general show. and would warn him against fooling with new methods in an emergency. but I hadn't any mind to volunteer." His eye twinkled. remembering how dull life would have been in the village without the Paladin. There was a cask of wine there." "Do you think he was very glad?" "Yes. his judgment would be cool then. after all. But. the credit doesn't all belong to me. and while we were gawking and blinking in the glare of the governor's torches they seized us and four more and added us to the escort. I'll tell you the whole thing. The governor's temper got afire. He was taken by surprise. and that is really how I came to volunteer. I know he was. and it is not likely that he could tell the truth without preparation. I am not charging him with that. and said: "It was fine and brave of you to volunteer. and bawled for his mother.

I prefer to stand." 74 . let him. you seem to make it quite plain that he was glad to join—that is.cutlets and send him home in a basket. The Paladin did it. if your premises are right that you start from. We stayed in our saddles because we had help. and if he likes to sit down. it was the privilege of his bulk." "Yes. If he made the more noise. We are equally lame to-day. and that secured his promotion to a privacy in the escort without any further debate. How did he stand the march last night?" "About as I did.

riding in peace and undisturbed. for the bridges were few and the streams many. the baths as cold. She would not miss or forget a detail of the lesson. they were very wearying marches. but merely sat her horse like a martial little statue and looked on. on the frosty or snowy ground. Our energies languished under these hardships and deadly fatigues. It was a ridiculous exhibition. and Joan was satisfied and complimented us. The news had leaked out and gone abroad that the inspired Virgin of Vaucouleurs was 75 . and not comfortable. Then she made a short little talk in which she said that even the rude business of war could be conducted better without profanity and other brutalities of speech than with them. She did not take any instruction herself or go through the evolutions and manoeuvres. She ordered half an hour's horsemanship drill for the novices then. being taken for a roving band of Free Companions. still wet. we could not explain it. and appointed one of the veterans to conduct it. I know not what to call the five nights that now followed. We could only wonder at this. but we learned something.Chapter 4 Joan Leads Us Through the Enemy WE WERE called to quarters and subjected to a searching inspection by Joan. and afterward had to bed ourselves. she would take it all in with her eye and her mind. Her step kept its spring and firmness and her eye its fire. That was sufficient for her. and we were ambuscaded seven times in addition. for the marches were as fatiguing. and get warm as we might and sleep if we could. We now made three night marches of twelve or thirteen leagues each. and apply it afterward with as much certainty and confidence as if she had already practised it. Still. and lost two novices and three veterans in the resulting fights. Country-folk were glad to have that sort of people go by without stopping. for it would not have been prudent to build fires. But if we had had hard times before. you see. and that she should strictly require us to remember and apply this admonition. but Joan's did not. and as we had to ford them we found the water dismally cold.

and which he promptly made known at headquarters. and just as if the thought never entered her mind that any one could doubt it after she had given her word that it was true. with Noel listening. but she refused without hesitancy. Call them before me.making for the King with an escort. It was for the ringleader. but how could they know that." 76 ." When they came she made that statement to them in a plain matter-offact way. and all the roads were being watched now. with a great purpose. She said: "Neither these men nor any others can take my life before my mission is accomplished. They had also seen other evidences that women have far more endurance and patience and fortitude than men—but what good had their seeing these things been to them? None. Yes. can make a weak body strong and keep it so. and the knights asked Joan's permission to hang the plotters. it shows you how men can have eyes and yet not see. It had taught them nothing. They argued and discussed among themselves. To have secret plottings of this sort going on in our midst was a very serious business. those dumb creatures? No. Moreover. Some of the men had been trying to understand why Joan continued to be alert. of course. This was aggravated by a discovery which Noel made. and confident while the strongest men in the company were fagged with the heavy marches and exposure and were become morose and irritable. They were still surprised to see a girl of seventeen bear the fatigues of war better than trained veterans of the army. they did not reflect that a great soul. they knew nothing. this speech certainly impressed them. vigorous. so they made a plan to watch for a safe opportunity to take her life. and here was the greatest soul in the universe. for prophecies boldly uttered never fall barren on superstitious ears. and had her strange pluck and strength from Satan. All their lives those men had seen their own women-folks hitched up with a cow and dragging the plow in the fields while the men did the driving. The men were evidently amazed and impressed to hear her say such a thing in such a sure and confident way. and also admonish them. There. and arrived at the decision that Joan was a witch. These five nights disheartened the command a good deal. and Joan said it sorrowfully: "It is a pity that you should plot another's death when your own is so close at hand. but her closing remark impressed them still more. and their reasonings were of a piece with their ignorance. therefore why should I have their blood upon my hands? I will inform them of this.

From the time that we had begun to encounter ambushes Joan had ridden at the head of the column." This news softened the stranger's tone. although there was promise of more and harder fighting than any of the previous nights had furnished." "Seen her! Seen the Virgin herself?" "Yes. we might properly consider ourselves trapped and cut off from escape. As soon as it was dark we filed out from the depth of the forest where we had been hidden and began the march. and she took this post now. One more night would carry us over the hostile frontier if we had good luck. Captain. Always before. or in front?" Joan answered in a level voice: "She is still behind. And what have you found out? Is she still behind us. By the time we had gone a league the rain and snow had turned to sleet. we had been more or less reluctant to start out into the gloom and the silence to be frozen in the fords and persecuted by the enemy. and as a cold rain mixed with snow had been falling steadily all day we were anxious to find out whether we were in a trap or not. but we got through without having any men killed. came the sharp command: "Halt!" We obeyed. If the swollen stream had washed away the bridge. and under the impulse of the storm-wind it lashed my face like whips. and he was drowned before we could help him. He said: "If you know that to be true. but this time we were impatient to get under way and have it over. We had no more conspiracies. and I envied Joan and the knights. Moreover.That man's horse stumbled and fell on him in the first ford which we crossed that night. I made out a dim mass in front of us which might be a body of horsemen. and we saw the night close down with a good deal of solicitude. you have taken your time. A man rode up and said to Joan in a tone of reproof: "Well. I have been in her camp. you have not lost your time. who could close their visors and shut up their heads in their helmets as in a box. But are you sure? How do you know?" "Because I have seen her. but one could not be sure. Now. This night was harassed with ambuscades. truly. out of the pitchy darkness and close at hand. in front of us about three leagues there was a deep stream with a frail wooden bridge over it." 77 .

" "Good! I was afraid we might be still behind her. We will hang her." "What was she doing?" "She was talking quietly with an officer." The officer pondered a moment or two. to see what the imp is like that has been able to make all this noise." "It passes belief! Is she robust. or slender?" "Slender. Night-marching in sleet and wind is not for chits of seventeen. she will stay where she is." "I do not know how to thank you sufficiently. No one has so well earned the privilege of abolishing this pestilent limb of Satan. But she has two knights with her. How many men has she?" "I counted but eighteen. everything is safe. particularly if the weather should improve. We will camp. then you and the halter may have her. I ask you to pardon me for speaking in that tone just now." "That is good." I was scared. You shall hang her yourself. She has my thanks. If we catch her." "Is that all? It won't be a mouthful for my force."Is it possible! Captain Raymond. then he said: "Was she preparing to break camp?" "Not when I had my last glimpse of her. and impatient to be getting out of this peril. No." "—and was chatting quietly and at her ease. but now that we know she is behind us. and it distressed and worried me to have Joan apparently set herself to work to 78 . not more than a league from here. All I want is just a look at her. You have performed a daring and admirable service." "Quietly? Not giving orders?" "No. talking as quietly as we are now. Where was she camped?" "In the forest. here is as good a place as any. give yourself no uneasiness. As she was making no preparation to break camp—" "She certainly was not when I saw her last. She is feeling a false security. They might force her to march. she is not more than seventeen." "If you command it—certainly. Is it true that she is only a girl?" "Yes. ourselves. Let us get about it. it means that this weather is not to her taste. She would have been restless and fussy else—it is the way of her sex when danger is about. I—" "If! I will take care of that. She is our game. but she may have had two or three pickets out.

but not a better. I will go and destroy it myself. and was glad she had had the cleverness to invent it and the ability to keep her head cool and think of it in that tight place. "Forward!" Consequently we moved in a walk. and I felt entirely good." Ah. in that case we are here to block the way. The officer replied: "You have it. and then I felt—but I cannot describe what I felt. yet it lasted but a short while. and the deeper we plowed into the darkness beyond them the better I felt. I was intending to occupy it with the whole command. Perhaps it was only a hundred or two. but now we seemed to be on our way to our allotted camping position. you see. but that is not necessary now. if they come this way. The suspense was exhausting. The officer said: "Well. I came nearer and nearer to feeling good." "Yes. When we passed the last of these people I was thankful. for Joan had given only the simple command. for when the enemy's bugles sang the "Dismount!" Joan gave the word to trot. I thought she probably knew better than I what to do. 79 . and my thanks. for an hour.make delay and increase the danger—still. and we moved forward. We crossed it and destroyed it. and find out enough to make them want to try for the bridge through the woods? Is it best to allow the bridge to stand?" It made me shiver to hear her. then we found the bridge still standing. One has to feel it himself in order to know what it is like. it will be well done. But if they should send out spies. but to me it seemed a thousand. I breathed freer. Moved in a dead walk past a dim and lengthening column of enemies at our side. somebody might have wanted the countersign somewhere along that line if we came flying by at speed." Joan said. Captain. then said: "It might be well enough to send a force to destroy the bridge. A dozen times I had imagined I heard the hoofbeats of the real Captain Raymond's troop arriving behind us. now I saw her idea. and that was a great relief to me. tranquilly: "With your permission. I could send another in your place. and had been sitting on pins and needles all the while that that conversation was dragging along. Before the command to dismount had been given. I breathed freer. so we were allowed to pass unchallenged. The officer considered awhile. With you to do it. The further we went the more formidable was the strength revealed by the hostile force." They saluted. but was still not comfortable. She was always at herself.

I think. for when we resumed our march beyond the river there were no sounds behind us except those which the storm was furnishing. I did wrong." 80 . I would God I knew if I have done wrong. and a commander just in the humor to superintend the gathering of it in. This troubled Joan. but I could not get away. sorrowfully. There!" "I see now. and would have camped without sending a force to destroy the bridge if he had been left unadvised. in the night and unchallenged. and that in the perils and necessities of war deceptions that help one's own cause and hurt the enemy's were always permissible. I forbore to tell him lies." said Joan.We had expected to hear the rush of a pursuing force behind us. and she said: "I thought he was deceiving himself. then she added. My mission required it. "I told no lie. for that would have been wrong." She was assured that she had done right." She was silent a moment. yet I deceived. Jean said: "Joan. turning the matter over in her mind. but she was not quite satisfied with that. and none are so ready to find fault with others as those who do things worthy of blame themselves. and thought that even when a great cause was in danger one ought to have the privilege of trying honorable ways first. Joan said: "It will be as you say. perhaps that made them lies. and am to blame. and then he went on to admire how ingeniously she had deceived that man and yet had not told him anything that was not the truth. no doubt. and I had to get away. but he must have been delayed seriously. "But the thing itself was right. I had tried all other ways first. for we thought that the real Captain Raymond would arrive and suggest that perhaps the troop that had been mistaken for his belonged to the Virgin of Vaucouleurs." The Sieur Bertrand was amused at Joan's naive way of referring to her advice as if it had been a valuable present to a hostile leader who was saved by it from making a censurable blunder of omission. but you didn't say you were going further. I said that Joan had harvested a good many compliments intended for Captain Raymond. you told us yourself that you were going to Uncle Laxart's to nurse his wife. for the commander took a troop for granted. but if my truths deceived him. with quiet decision. and that he would find nothing of a crop left but a dry stubble of reprimands when he got back. and I would do it again. and I am to blame. yet you did go on to Vaucouleurs.

Not even the dangers that threatened us could keep us awake. and the cold was less severe. But we were not molested again. the essence of its meaning escaping us. Her saying seemed a commonplace at the time. and we slept in our saddles. It was a remarkable march. and as her later history revealed her to us. She would sacrifice herself—and her best self. whereas our war-ethics permitted the purchase of our lives. we entered the town of Gien.It seemed an over-nice distinction. but occupied a higher plane. Presently the wind died down. as we were supposing. and that her position was not identical with ours. but only that. and shows what men can do when they have a leader with a determined purpose and a resolution that never flags. Joan was the freshest of us all. we should have perceived that she had a clear meaning there. by deception. that is. she would not buy her life at that cost. That was a glad morning for us. This tenth night seemed longer than any of the others. as always. and knew we were in a friendly land. exhaustion overcame us. or any mere military advantage. and had more of it on hand now than at any previous time. in both body and spirits. As the heavy time wore on. with the hostiles all behind us. but nobody said anything. The road was become a bog. but one sees now that it contained a principle which lifted it above that and made it great and fine. and still. and the horses labored through it at a walk—they could do no better. her truthfulness—to save her cause. and of course it was the hardest. the sleet stopped falling. 81 . because we had been accumulating fatigue from the beginning. by tortuous and wretched roads. When the dull dawn came at last we saw a river before us and we knew it was the Loire. We had averaged above thirteen leagues a night. small or great. We were a worn and bedraggled and shabby-looking troop. If we had known her as well as she knew herself.

" "Who?" asked Jean. and he has got more of it than any 82 . but by that time the news was abroad that the young girl commissioned of God to deliver France was come. The troop slept all the afternoon. We had the comfortable taproom of the village inn to ourselves. who was at the Castle of Chinon. such a press of people flocked to our quarters to get sight of her that it seemed best to seek a quieter place. Noel Rainguesson said: "I think it is wonderful. and after supper we felt pretty fresh and fine. especially our little group of young Domremians.Chapter 5 We Pierce the Last Ambuscades WE RESTED and otherwise refreshed ourselves two or three hours at Gien. wherefore. The Paladin was suddenly become his ancient self again. and I wrote it. but discretion is the winning thing in war. "What had he to do with it?" asked Pierre d'Arc. discretion is the rarest and loftiest of qualities. We were now within six leagues of the King. Joan dictated a letter to him at once. a very monument of self-complacency. She could depend on us and on herself for valor. It was nothing but Joan's confidence in his discretion that enabled her to keep up her heart. and for the first time in ten unspeakably long days were exempt from bodings and terrors and hardships and fatiguing labors. after all. "Everything. In it she said she had come a hundred and fifty leagues to bring him good news. She added that although she had never seen him she would know him in any disguise and would point him out. and begged the privilege of delivering it in person. so we pushed on and halted at a small village called Fierbois. the way he has brought us through." The Paladin seemed not to hear. The two knights rode away at once with the letter. "Why. the Paladin. and was swaggering up and down.

and I call upon you all to beware you give credence to the malicious inventions of this ramshackle slander-mill that has been doing its best to destroy my character for years." said the Paladin. to climb a tree. Noel Rainguesson. But that is natural. "I don't know. where a danger exists. brains are an obstruction to it. that is the way with him. than any other sixty men in France." "I didn't know he had more discretion than other people. I saw him climb nine trees in a single night. "for discretion argues brains. but always flies off the handle and becomes disagreeable. "—whereas." said Pierre. even the tree. for instance. enabling it to perceive and avoid dangers that haven't any existence at all. We know this because if it were an intellectual quality it would only perceive a danger. I got off to tighten my saddle-girth—I wish I may die in my tracks if it isn't so—and whoever wants to believe it can. you see. and will grind up your own reputations for you next." "Why did he choose that time for it?" asked Jean. but forgets all the rest. he would remember getting off the horse because he was so used to doing it. He always did it when there was an alarm and the clash of arms at the front. you are wrong there. it acts upon us through feeling." "You saw nothing of the kind! A person that can lie like that deserves no one's respect. for instance. and proceeding by feeling. And you notice his defect of memory. Discretion is a quality of the heart—solely a quality of the heart. Perfect discretion means absence of brains. Discretion hasn't anything to do with brains. he thinks. it feels.other man in France—more of it. To tighten up his girth. I think." "There. for it does not reason. whereas—" "Hear him twaddle—the damned idiot!" muttered the Paladin. and whoever don't can let it alone. not reason. then you'll be the less likely to get into trouble." "Now you are getting ready to make a fool of yourself." "No. perhaps. and he hasn't any more brains than the rest of us. He remembers getting off his horse. I ask you all to answer me. in my opinion. it being purely a quality of the heart. its reach is correspondingly wider and sublimer. when the Paladin took his horse's ears for hostile lances and got off and climbed a tree—" "It's a lie! a lie without shadow of foundation. "and you want to coil some of that long tongue of yours around your neck and stick the end of it in your ear. as. that night in the fog. he never can discuss a theme temperately. Do you believe what this reptile has said?" 83 .

If you ask for my witnesses. "now what do you think of yourself. and kept hundreds and thousands of the enemy at bay when they were thirsting for your blood. I can endure your lies. That you people's small performances might appear the better and win you the more glory. In gratitude to one's benefactor—" "Benefactor? What do I owe you. after the third skirmish. And I did not do it to display my daring. This wounds me more than any number of injurious and unkind speeches could do. and yet I am obliged to say. And I want to say this. hesitatingly: "I—well." "It is another lie." "There!" cried the Paladin.All seemed embarrassed. but not your love. I hardly know what to say. and I give you fair warning that you are going too far. Time and again I was urged to go to the rear because the 84 . After it was over I saw him come out of the bushes and attack a dead man single-handed. I should like to know?" "You owe me your life. It is a delicate situation." The laughter that followed inflamed the Paladin's anger to white heat. I saw enough to teach me that. He said. I did it because I loved you and could not live without you. of course. yonder they lie." "Meaning me. I am not able to believe that you climbed nine trees. I paved it with corpses. where the fighting was thickest. I found that road mud. I fertilized it with blood." "There—you have said enough! I will not stay here to listen to these infamies. and only Pierre replied. You will see me attack a live one if you are not careful. I found that country sterile. I stood between the trees and the foe. that I am not able to believe the whole of it—no. to be remote from you in order that you might not see and be discouraged by the things I did to the enemy." Noel pleaded. It seems offensive to me to refuse to believe a person when he makes so direct a statement. Noel Rainguesson? How many do you believe I climbed. I will reckon with you all. on the road we have come. I hid my own deeds through all the march. It was my purpose to keep this a secret in my own breast. rude as it may appear. and he said: "I bide my time—I bide my time. before I go. Keep that corruption for somebody with a stronger stomach than mine. "he is a perfect lion when he gets started. I went always to the front. I promise you that!" "Don't get him started. Pierre?" "Only eight. but you force me to reveal it.

They and we reverently stood—as becomes persons who are in the presence of kings and the superiors of kings—until Joan. although we had not permitted ourselves to do otherwise since the day she prophesied that wretched traitor's death and he was straightway drowned. and close by. lying in the strangling grip of the English. then the Sieur de Metz said to Joan: 85 . with a lofty air. divinely commissioned to raise the siege. for the recital of his imaginary deeds had already set him up again and made him feel good. and it was probably laid for us by that treacherous rascal. Orleans was at our back now. troubled by this mark of homage and respect. too. but we were not the apprentices we were ten or twelve days before. and reported. We were no more dismayed by the sight of those people than our commander was. you miscreant. Ah.command could not proceed on account of my dead. thus confirming many previous signs that she was indeed an ambassador commissioned of God. and not content with it nor yet used to it. we would face about and go to their relief. and in considerable force. That was our last ambuscade. soon. always alert. and always ready to deal with any emergency that might turn up. their patience well wearied. the King's own minister and favorite. please God. Joan had delivered the order. We had learned to be always in battle array. our hearts did not jump into our throats and our weapons tremble in our hands. we plowing through them as if they had been men of straw. no. De la Tremouille. and not throw this help lightly away. we were seasoned to this kind of adventure now. they turned tail and scattered. They burst suddenly out of the woods. "Forward!" and we were down upon them with a rush. commanded us to sit. And yet you. They sent commissioners at once to the King to beg him to consider this matter. the tedious King and his tedious people! Our two good knights came presently. When we were half-way to Chinon we happened upon yet one more squad of enemies. We housed ourselves in an inn. Before they could form. These commissioners were already at Chinon by this time. From Gien the news had spread to Orleans that the peasant Maid of Vaucouleurs was on her way. and soon the town came flocking to get a glimpse of the Maid. They stood no chance. Next day we mounted and faced toward Chinon. accuse me of climbing trees! Pah!" And he strode out. The news made a great excitement and raised a great hope—the first breath of hope those poor souls had breathed in five months.

they are great and their importance grows."The King has got the letter. but there be three or four that are nearest his person—schemers and traitors every one—that put obstructions in the way. shut up in this wee corner of the realm like a rat in a trap. God be witness! no army. whereas if ever he assert himself and rise and strike for crown and country like a man. but they must not despair. he knows that our faithful city is fighting all solitary and alone against disease. nor any shadow of one. and by contrast with his hungry poverty you behold this crownless pauper and his shoals of fools and favorites tricked out in the gaudiest silks and velvets you shall find in any Court in Christendom. by lies and pretexts. and that behind him the English flag will float unchallenged over every acre of his great heritage. They said with heat: 'It is a marvel that any man in such desperate case as is the King can moon around in this torpid way. the Archbishop of Rheims. and seek all ways. in his treasure forty francs. starvation. saying as they say. and the sword to stay this awful calamity." "Who is it that forbids?" "None forbids. Tell them so. their reign is done. and see his all go to ruin without lifting a finger to stay the disaster. While they keep the King idle and in bondage to his sports and follies. they care not if the crown go to destruction and the King with it. and turn aside and go another way when we appear. he knows that when our city falls—as fall it surely will except succor come swiftly—France falls. Chiefest of these are Georges de la Tremouille and that plotting fox. wherefore they are cold to us. And look you. he will not hear our prayers. yet he will not strike one blow to save her. he knows these things. he will not even look upon our faces.' That is what the commissioners said." "You have spoken with others besides these?" "Not of the Court. and watch their mouths and their actions. gently: "It is pity. to make delay. with wormy rags for upholstery and crippled furniture for use. So they but thrive. but they will not let us have speech with him. acting as they act." Joan said." 86 . What a most strange spectacle it is! Here he is. thinking as they think. a very house of desolation. and they are in despair. The Dauphin will hear them presently. his royal shelter this huge gloomy tomb of a castle. he knows that when that day comes he will be an outlaw and a fugitive. But we have spoken with the commissioners from Orleans. no—the Court are the meek slaves of those reptiles. and not a farthing more.

The Archbishop and his confederate have for backer that veteran soldier Raoul de Gaucourt. and sweep over the field like a storm—that is the spirit that can save France. He will perceive this in time. then she said. and comes—she to whom a king must be a dread and awful presence—and will stand up before such an one and say. She spoke with the Sieur Bertrand. for they believe you come from God. To her mind he was not King yet. Yolande. can take a sword in her small hand and win victories where the trained generals of France have looked for defeats only. Is there none in that Castle of Chinon who favors us?" "Yes. and as if she were talking to herself: 'A child of seventeen—a girl—countrybred—untaught—ignorant of war. all of which I answered according to my ability. and she hates those others. Queen of Sicily. Grand Master of the Palace. for what else could have borne up that child on that great march. and I know her promise will be 87 ." said Bertrand. a worthy man. for fifty years—and always found them." "She favors us. whence could come a courage and conviction so sublime as this but from very God Himself!' She was silent again awhile. and asked a thousand questions. Be not afraid. thinking and making up her mind. shrinking—yet throws away her shepherd's crook and clothes herself in steel. and it will content them. Then she sat thinking over these replies until I thought she was lost in a dream and would wake no more. 'And whether she comes of God or no. the King's mother-in-law. who is wise and good. At last she said. "We will tell them so. the King's beguilers.She almost always called the King the Dauphin. with no head for any greater matter. and fights her way through a hundred and fifty leagues of fear. come it whence it may! It is in her. and the conduct of battles—modest. "She was full of interest. and that alone. I do truly believe. there is that in her heart that raises her above men—high above all men that breathe in France today—for in her is that mysterious something that puts heart into soldiers. gentle. not being crowned. and turns mobs of cowards into armies of fighters that forget what fear is when they are in that presence—fighters who go into battle with joy in their eyes and songs on their lips. And so he lifts his frosty mustache and scoffs. but simply a soldier. ignorant of war. and made her despise its dangers and fatigues? The King must see her face to face—and shall!' She dismissed me with those good words. slowly. But it was not so. God has sent me to save you! Ah. He cannot make out to see how a country-girl. the use of arms." "When God fights it is but small matter whether the hand that bears His sword is big or little.

in front of four imposing and austere bishops and their train of servants. The next day Queen Yolande got one victory over the King's keepers. Then he flew downstairs. and bowing to the ground with every step. but she was not a chatterer to tell great matters and make herself important to little people. then he will hold up his head again. and is only thinking of throwing away everything and flying to some foreign land. fervently. that they could not find 88 .kept. and presently appeared again. Joan rose. it is true. This began to look encouraging. They were come from the King to speak with the Maid of Vaucouleurs. and they implored him to trust in her. and for a while no word was said. for it was their prerogative to speak first." "Would she were King!" said the other knight. and the innkeeper came flying up to say a commission of illustrious ecclesiastics was come from the King—from the King his very self. and they made the most they could out of their opportunity." I was miserable with curiosity to know what it was that she would tell him. and I did not expect she would. with quiet confidence. and that it is shut up in a mystery which they cannot fathom. no. as the truly great always do. and they were so astonished to see what a child it was that was making such a noise in the world and degrading personages of their dignity to the base function of ambassadors to her in her plebeian tavern. but she did not say. she was reserved. The bishops took seats. and have faith that she was sent to save France. Two hours later there was a great stir below. She was but a child." said Joan. and how great and noble a spirit animated her. backing into the room. He was strongly moved to do this. They begged him to consent to see her. "For there is little hope that the King himself can be stirred out of his lethargy. but no other but God. The commissioners say there is a spell upon him that makes him hopeless—yes. and promised that he would not drop the matter out of his mind. "I know it. and he knows it. They told the King what a spotless and beautiful character Joan was. He is wholly without hope. When I see him I will tell him a secret that will drive away his trouble. and kept things to herself. They will delay her all they can—those animals—but she will not fail in the end. believe in her. she procured an audience for our two knights. for. in spite of their protestations and obstructions." "I know the mystery. and we all stood. understand!—think of this vast honor to his humble little hostelry!—and he was so overcome with the glory of it that he could hardly find breath enough in his excited body to put the facts into words. but would consult with his council about it.

dear. in the simple fashion which was her wont: "Ye will pardon me for reminding you again—but I have no message to send to any one. and said. and in those of Joan's brothers. but to deliver Orleans. She was standing in a reverent attitude. wherefore she was now commanded to put it into words. not any more disturbed by their state and grandeur than a princess would have been. and set the crown upon his head.any words to say at first. to you fling the King's command in his face and refuse to deliver this message of yours to his servants appointed to receive it?" "God has appointed me to receive it. and waste no more time about it." "Forbear this folly. too. Then presently their spokesman told Joan they were aware that she had a message for the King. reverend sirs. Ah. I pray you let me have speech for his grace the Dauphin. and come at your message! Deliver it. When the spokesman had finished." 89 . and it is not well. and their faces flushed darkly. with her head down and her hands clasped in front of her. how little we were expecting what happened then! We were aghast to hear her say what she said. most reverend fathers in God. and with little stumbling. but that she would be enabled to word her message well. and lead the Dauphin to his good city of Rheims. I could hardly contain my joy—our message was to reach the King at last! And there was the same joy and pride and exultation in the faces of our knights. And I knew that they were all praying—as I was—that the awe which we felt in the presence of these great dignitaries. with all her ordinary simplicity and modesty of voice and manner: "Ye will forgive me. for she was always reverent toward the consecrated servants of God. she raised her head and set her calm eye on those faces. and so make a favorable impression here. but I have no message save for the King's ear alone." "Is that the message you send to the King?" But Joan only said." Those surprised men were dumb for a moment. would not affect her in the like degree. As for me. where it would be so valuable and so important. I am not come hither to talk. and which would have tied our tongues and locked our jaws." "You err indeed. briefly and without waste of time or embroideries of speech. and another's commandment may not take precedence of that. then the spokesman said: "Hark ye.

They thought to get my message and seem to deliver it straight. was yet able to penetrate the cunning devices of a King's trained advisers and defeat them. Our countenances were vacant. taken suddenly and unprepared.The King's messengers rose in deep anger and swept out of the place without further words. have no fear. where were the value of that argument—whom could it convince? Be patient. "The King." The Sieur de Metz nodded his head several times. "If one would have a message go sound and ungarbled. none came. now we were beginning to feel that maybe there were greatnesses in her brain 90 . or are they friends?" "Enemies." "Who moved the King to send them?" She waited for an answer. They saw it too. fidelity to all duties—in all things. when all is said. Marveling over this. does one choose traitors and tricksters to send it by?" I saw that we had been fools. for we began to see what was in her mind—so she answered herself: "The Dauphin's council moved him to it. the Dauphin will hear me presently." It was just my thought. and indeed it was the thought of all there present. to think how that untaught girl. we could not understand Joan's conduct. If an enemy carried these in the right words. yet deftly twist it from its purpose. At last the Sieur Bertrand found courage to ask her why she had let this great chance to get her message to the King go by. Then she went on: "They had but small wit that contrived this trap. You know that one part of my message is but this—to move the Dauphin by argument and reasonings to give me men-at-arms and send me to the siege. I could have said it myself. and astonished at it. endurance. our hearts full of a sense of disaster. A sort of awe crept over us. Our precious opportunity was thrown away. and muttered as to himself: "She was right and wise. We had come to know that she was great in courage. "Who sent them here?" she asked. the exact words. and we are but dull fools. indeed. and she wise. so none found anything to say. we and Joan kneeling as they passed. she who had been so wise until this fatal hour. Are they enemies to me and to the Dauphin's weal. we fell silent and spoke no more. fortitude." answered the Sieur Bertrand. yet left out the persuasions of gesture and supplicating tone and beseeching looks that inform the words and make them live. conviction. patience. and no word missing. that make a good and trusty soldier and perfect him for his post.

Master of the Palace. It set us thinking. Joan charmed them every one with her sweetness and simplicity and unconscious eloquence. and all the best and capablest among them recognized that there was an indefinable something about her that testified that she was not made of common clay. and moved on a loftier plane. and housed her. She always made friends and advocates that way. Of course. and he asserted himself sufficiently to put his respect into an act instead of into polite and empty words. 91 . with us her servants. neither the high nor the low could come within the sound of her voice and the sight of her face and go out from her presence indifferent. He moved Joan out of that poor inn. and who had answered the King's mandate with a bland refusal to obey. The King was obliged to respect the spirit of a young girl who could hold her own and stand her ground like that. wife of old Raoul de Gaucourt. this royal attention had an immediate result: all the great lords and ladies of the Court began to flock there to see and listen to the wonderful girl-soldier that all the world was talking about. personally confiding her to the care of Madame de Bellier. What Joan did that day bore fruit the very day after. These spread her fame. in the Castle of Courdray. that she was built on a grander plan than the mass of mankind.that were even greater than these great qualities of the heart.

You see how fastidious they were. for the audience was to be at night. that she. so we were on the lookout. It was as if people should come to put out the fire when a man's house was burning down. and they were afraid that Joan would be so paralyzed by the glare of light from the long files of torches. the great concourse of renowned personages. the brilliant costumes. the solemn pomps and ceremonies. The King's council advised him against arriving at a decision in our matter too precipitately. One day great news came—the Orleans commissioners. No doubt I could have comforted them. but not in all. During two days our pair of noble knights were in distress and trepidation on Joan's account. for we had one great anticipation in front of us. of course. but I was not free to speak. would be overcome by these terrors and make a piteous failure.Chapter 6 Joan Convinces the King WELL. Would Joan be disturbed by this cheap spectacle. He arrive at a decision too precipitately! So they sent a committee of priests—always priests—into Lorraine to inquire into Joan's character and history—a matter which would consume several weeks. and they waited till they could send into another country to find out if he had always kept the Sabbath or not. had at last turned the council's position and persuaded the King to see Joan. with 92 . anything to make delay. a simple country-maid. and the other splendors of the Court. with Yolande and our knights. we had never seen a king. and now some day we should have that prodigious spectacle to see and to treasure in our memories all our lives. dreary for us young people in some ways. The others were doomed to wait longer than I. before letting him try. So the days poked along. as it turned out. but with us others it was otherwise. and always eager and watching for the chance. we could not eat or sleep or do any rational thing for the excitement and the glory of it. this tinsel show. Joan received the immense news gratefully but without losing her head. and all unused to such things.

and wore it several times upon occasions of state. and which I cannot think of even now in my dull age without being moved just as rhythmical and exquisite music moves one. There was a wide free space down the middle of the hall. the familiars of God. with his train of servants and assistants. So then the gracious Queen imagined and contrived that simple and witching costume which I have described to you so many times. and at the end of it was a throne royally canopied. At the appointed time the Count of Vendome. Queen Yolande wanted Joan to make the best possible impression upon the King and the Court. came richly clothed. and the two knights and I went with her. but in that she had to be disappointed. It is true that Joan had been hindered and put off a good while. light streamed upon these masses of color from two hundred and fifty flambeaux. She kept that raiment always. of course. in splendid tabards. she was received with honors granted to only the greatest personages. When we entered the great audience-hall. she was a dream. being entitled to this privilege by reason of our official positions near her person. as became a servant of God. and other things now sacred because they had belonged to her. wrought upon the princeliest pattern. and one sent upon a mission of a serious sort and grave political import. but now that she was admitted to an audience at last. with long slender silver trumpets at their mouths. that dress—that is what it was—music that one saw with the eyes and felt in the heart. Joan not being persuadable to it. and set off with jewels. to conduct Joan to the King. two sides of the hall were like flower-gardens for variety of color and the magnificence of the costumes. so she was strenuous to have her clothed in the richest stuffs. a great lord of the court. a glory like the glory of the sun streaming from each of those innumerable heads. for that was music. with two of her swords. Yes. Here were ranks of guards in shining armor and with polished halberds. she was a poem. and upon it sat a crowned and sceptered figure nobly clothed and blazing with jewels. but begging to be simply and sincerely dressed. there it all was just as I have already painted it. the massed radiance filling the deeps of space with a blinding splendor? I thought not. and it is preserved to this day in the Treasury of Orleans. and her banner. with square silken banners depending from 93 . and seen their retinue of angels stretching back into the remoteness of the sky.its small King and his butterfly dukelets?—she who had spoken face to face with the princes of heaven. like a measureless fan of light. she was a spirit when she was clothed in that. myriads upon myriads. At the entrance door stood four heralds in a row.

and was shocked at the paleness of his face. Then they presently began to come to life again. Joan walked two yards behind the Count. nor even any slight inclination of her head. I whispered and said: "What is it. man. That was all there was to see at present. pronounced Joan's name. They were not expecting this beautiful and honorable tribute to our little country-maid. but stood looking toward the throne in silence. and were not conscious of anything but the one object they were gazing upon. which was a sure sign that those people. they were full of curiosity to see what she would do—they having a secret and particular reason for this curiosity. I was devouring the crowned personage with all my eyes. and which seemed to say. Now she turned her head slowly. The eyes of all others were fixed upon Joan in a gaze of wonder which was half worship. This is what they saw: She made no obeisance. and they held themselves erect. I glanced up at De Metz. It made our good knights proud and happy. They had the look of people who are under the enchantment of a vision. The Count made a deep obeisance. and my heart almost stood still with awe. Our solemn march ended when we were as yet some eight or ten steps from the throne. She was still gazing steadfastly toward the throne. rousing themselves out of the spell and shaking it off as one drives away little by little a clinging drowsiness or intoxication. and stiffened their stride. this was repeated at every fifty feet of our progress—six times in all. and her eye wandered along the lines of standing courtiers till it fell 94 . and as we moved down the hall under the pictured and gilded vaulting. what is it?" His answering whisper was so weak I could hardly catch it: "They have taken advantage of the hint in her letter to play a trick upon her! She will err. Now they fixed their attention upon Joan with a strong new interest of another sort. who seldom forget themselves. That is not the King that sits there. "How sweet—how lovely—how divine!" All lips were parted and motionless. and looked fine and soldierly. and they will laugh at her. we three walked two yards behind Joan.them embroidered with the arms of France. then bowed again and moved to his place among a group of officials near the throne. these trumpets gave forth in unison one long rich note. So they watched." Then I glanced at Joan. had forgotten themselves now. and I had the curious fancy that even her shoulders and the back of her head expressed bewilderment. As Joan and the Count passed by.

I am content. I caught the King's next question: "But tell me who you are. and he muttered in grief and indignation: "Ah. exclaiming in that soft melodious voice which was her birthright and was now charged with deep and tender feeling: "God of his grace give you long life. and clasped his knees." After a slight pause she added." and he pointed to the throne. and she ran and threw herself at his feet. Joan did not stir from her knees. and added. for I perceive that she is equal to her occasions. There he is. I am not the King. And He willeth also that you set me at my appointed work and give me men-at-arms. and all the people fell away and left those two 95 . gracious liege. then her face lighted joyously. her eye lighting at the sound of her words. it is an amazing thing!" Then he mashed all the bones of my hand in his grateful grip. what have these painted infidels to say!" Meantime the young person in the plain clothes was saying to Joan: "Ah. with a proud shake of his mane." This interruption of his lost me a remark or two of the other talk. "Now. and am sent to say that the King of Heaven wills that you be crowned and consecrated in your good city of Rheims. however. But for this lie she had gone through safe. and none other. and thoughtful. and made him stop in his place. Now." De Metz's troubles vanished away. she knew. The knight's face clouded. After a little he waved his hand lightly. and be thereafter Lieutenant of the Lord of Heaven. O dear and gentle Dauphin!" In his astonishment and exultation De Metz cried out: "By the shadow of God. you are he. how could she know? It is a miracle. it is a shame to use her so. having that in her head that cannot profitably be helped by the vacancy that is in mine.upon a young man who was very quietly dressed. you mistake. she was not guessing. and said: "No. I will go and proclaim to all the house what—" "Stay where you are!" whispered I and the Sieur Bertrand in a breath. "For then will I raise the siege of Orleans and break the English power!" The young monarch's amused face sobered a little when this martial speech fell upon that sick air like a breath blown from embattled camps and fields of war. but still lifted her happy face toward the King. who is King of France. He was grave now. and will meddle no more. and what would you?" "I am called Joan the Maid. my child. and this trifling smile presently faded wholly away and disappeared. and he said: "Verily.

but we had our eyes and could note effects. The perplexed King asked Joan for a sign. they were inflated beyond measure with pride in Joan. We could not hear. As for our two knights. they not being able to think out any way to account for her managing to carry herself through this imposing ordeal without ever a mistake or an awkwardness of any kind to mar the grace and credit of her great performance. That part of the talk was like this—as one may read in all histories." 96 . of course. It was as if Joan had told him something almost too wonderful for belief. and makes you dream of throwing all away and fleeing from your realm. There is a secret trouble in your heart which you speak of to none—a doubt which wastes away your courage. and presently we and all the house noted one effect which was memorable and striking. but nearly dumb. The knights and I moved to the opposite side of the hall and stood there. and you shall no more doubt. We saw Joan rise at a sign. and that her Voices were supernatural and endowed with knowledge hidden from mortals. The talk between Joan and the King was long and earnest. Well. they had seen. though none knew what that meaning was at that time. and at the same time look immeasurably astonished. for all knew it was big with meaning. and yet of a most uplifting and welcome nature. and has been set down in memoirs and histories and in testimony at the Process of Rehabilitation by some who witnessed it. and held in low voices. Within this little while you have been praying. but was even more tranquil and at her ease in holding speech with a monarch than ever they themselves had been. All that host had been consumed with curiosity to see what Joan would do. and they were fully as much astonished to find that she was not overcome by the pomps and splendors about her. with all their practice and experience. that God of his grace would resolve that doubt. He wanted to believe in her and her mission. then she and the King talked privately together. It was long before we found out the secret of this conversation. as to speech. and now they were full of astonishment to see that she had really performed that strange miracle according to the promise in her letter. even if the doing of it must show you that no kingly right is lodged in you. but we know it now. and all the world knows themselves in a vacant space. but how could he do this unless these Voices could prove their claim in some absolutely unassailable way? It was then that Joan said: "I will give you a sign. For suddenly we saw the King shake off his indolent attitude and straighten up like a man. in your own breast.

I know now that these Voices are of God. But no." "They have resolved that doubt. tell it me—I will believe. Always—from all companies. high or low—she went forth richer in honor and esteem than when she came. and doubt no more. and kept abreast of us like a wave the whole way. and none but God could know about it.It was that that amazed the King. all attempts at talk being drowned in the storm of shoutings and huzzas that broke out all along as we passed. not checkmated. they could invent some more delays. removing his doubts upon that head and convincing him of his royal right. for it was as she had said: his prayer was the secret of his own breast. The wonders which Joan had been performing before the King had been carried all around by this time." Telling him he was of lawful birth was what straightened him up and made a man of him for a moment. bending low over her hand and kissing it. and if any could have hanged his hindering and pestiferous council and set him free. for he sent us back to Courdray Castle torch-lighted and in state. and as for talking together. They have said true in this matter. 97 . Then he dismissed her with gracious words. which are these: Thou art lawful heir to the King thy father. And the King did another handsome thing by Joan. We had been made proud by the honors which had so distinguished Joan's entrance into that place—honors restricted to personages of very high rank and worth—but that pride was as nothing compared with the pride we had in the honor done her upon leaving it. and the silver trumpets sounding those rich notes of theirs. God has spoken it. those creatures were only checked. but give me men-at-arms and let me get about my work. he would have answered Joan's prayer and set her in the field. and finely equipped and bedizened they were. too. The King himself led Joan by the hand down the great hall to the door. if they have said more. these last. as a body might say. we couldn't. up to this time. Now lift up thy head. though they hadn't seen the color of their wages since they were children. and true heir of France. so the road was so packed with people who wanted to get a sight of her that we could hardly dig through. the glittering multitude standing and making reverence as they passed. For whereas those first honors were shown only to the great. and I bring their very words. had been shown only to the royal. So he said: "The sign is sufficient. under escort of his own troop—his guard of honor—the only soldiers he had.

he got a hearing. and acknowledged lord of the tap-room of the inn.Chapter 7 Our Paladin in His Glory WE WERE doomed to suffer tedious waits and delays. and well they might. and he had been in battle. He was king bee of the little village that snuggled under the shelter of the frowning towers and bastions of Courdray Castle. faded velvet doublet and trunks. he drew custom as honey draws flies. with an art that was all his own. he was the only one who was happy and had no heavy times. and they were his obliged and willing servants. so he was the pet of the innkeeper. and we settled ourselves down to our fate and bore it with a dreary patience. Most people who have the narrative gift—that great and rare endowment—have with it the defect of telling their choice things over the same 98 . for he was a fine and stately contrast to the small French gentlemen of the day squeezed into the trivial French costume of the time. everybody stopped to look and admire. long rapier. Those simple artisans and peasants listened with deep and wondering interest. its perils and surprises. He bought them at second hand—a Spanish cavalier's complete suit. and all that—a graceful and picturesque costume. and the Paladin's great frame was the right place to hang it for effect. hero of that hostelry. short cloak hung from the shoulder. wide-brimmed hat with flowing plumes. When he opened his mouth there. at any rate—and that was a wide stretch more of it than they might ever hope to see. counting the slow hours and the dull days and hoping for a turn when God should please to send it. He wore it when off duty. funnel-topped buskins. The Paladin was the only exception—that is to say. This was partly owing to the satisfaction he got out of his clothes. and of his wife and daughter. for he was a traveler and had seen the world—all of it that lay between Chinon and Domremy. and twirling his new mustache with the other. lace collar and cuffs. and knew how to paint its shock and struggle. He was cock of that walk. and when he swaggered by with one hand resting on the hilt of his rapier.

and so. "Give us something fresh. but was lapping over the edges. and by the time he had told one of then ten times it had grown so that there wasn't room enough in France for it any more. Within three nights afterward all his battles were taking a rest. except by their names. instead of saying to him as they would have said to another. He could not tell his battles apart himself. where we could stand at the wickets in the door and see and hear. with one voice and with a strong interest. and more general wreck and disaster all around. At first when the Paladin heard us tell about the glories of the Royal Audience he was broken-hearted because he was not taken with us to it. because he did not tell it twice the same way. and more widows and orphans and suffering in the neighborhood where it happened. the hostess. and within two days he was telling what he did do when he was there. now. for already his worshipers in the tap-room were so infatuated with the great tale of the Royal Audience that they would have nothing else. with more casualties on the enemy's side each time. yet had a snug and cozy look. But up to that point the audience would not allow him to substitute a new battle. next." they would say. The tap-room was large. It was a comfortable place to be in on such chilly and blustering March nights as these. Noel Rainguesson hid himself and heard it. with its inviting little tables and chairs scattered irregularly over its red brick floor. "Tell about the surprise at Beaulieu again—tell it three or four times!" That is a compliment which few narrative experts have heard in their lifetime. The host. and could be trusted to take care of its affair. His mill was fairly started. and this injures them and causes them to sound stale and wearisome after several repetitions. his talk was full of what he would have done if he had been there. and so besotted with it were they that they would have cried if they could not have gotten it. whose art was of a finer sort. and 99 .way every time. and after that we went together to listen. but it was not so with the Paladin. and came and told me. but always made a new battle of it and a better one. and sure to improve as long as France could hold them. knowing that the old ones were the best. and were sipping their wine in contentment and gossiping one with another in a neighborly way while they waited for the historian. it was more stirring and interesting to hear him tell about a battle the tenth time than it was the first time. and its great fire flaming and crackling in the wide chimney. we are fatigued with that old thing. and a goodly company had taken shelter there. bribing the inn hostess to let us have her little private parlor.

the armorer. was the barber-surgeon. and without other helps to his advancement than just his tongue and the talent to use it given him by God—a talent which was but one talent in the beginning. for he is that in all villages. also taking his hand and touching his lips to it. The people sat down and began to hammer on the tables with their flagons and call for "the King's Audience!—the King's Audience!—the King's Audience!" The Paladin stood there in one of his best attitudes. and so on. the weaver.their pretty daughter were flying here and there and yonder among the tables and doing their best to keep up with the orders. the baker. As he has to pull everybody's teeth and purge and bleed all the grown people once a month to keep their health sound. and they did it with alacrity and affectionate heartiness. and heightening the effect with a resounding cheer. which pleased him very much and made his little rat-eyes shine. and conscious and important. the blacksmith. the maltster. At the end of it was a platform ten or twelve feet wide. clashing their metal flagons together with a simultaneous crash. The barber called upon the people to rise and drink the Paladin's health. the barber called after her. and such applause is right and proper. and the barber hustled forward and greeted him with several low and most graceful and courtly bows. and three steps leading up to it. and by constant contact with all sorts of folk becomes a master of etiquette and manners and a conversationalist of large facility. and told her to add the wine to his score. drovers. the farrier. 100 . with a big chair and a small table on it. When the Paladin presently came sauntering indolently in. Among the wine-sippers were many familiar faces: the cobbler. but was now become ten through husbandry and the increment and usufruct that do naturally follow that and reward it as by a law. and when the host's daughter brought it up on the platform and dropped her courtesy and departed. This won him ejaculations of approval. Then he called in a loud voice for a stoup of wine for the Paladin. for when we do a liberal and gallant thing it is but natural that we should wish to see notice taken of it. he knows everybody. he was received with a cheer. the wheelwright. and a space or aisle down the center of it had been kept vacant and reserved for the Paladin's needs. The room was about forty feet square. and their sort. as a matter of course. the miller's man with his dusty coat. There were plenty of carriers. It was a fine thing to see how that young swashbuckler had made himself so popular in a strange land in so little a while. and journeymen artisans.

Maid and all. 101 . just as a poet puts his heart into a heroic fiction.with his plumed great hat tipped over to the left. but all believed that he believed it. the folds of his short cloak drooping from his shoulder. and as he walked he talked. He spoke of the governor of Vaucouleurs. The barber jumped for it and set it upon the Paladin's table. He did not seem to know that he was making these extraordinary changes. By his first night's account the governor merely attached him to the Maid's military escort in a general and unofficial way. and so casually that often one failed to notice that a change had been made. It was plain that there was a charm about the performance that was apart from the mere interest which attaches to lying. the first night. He put his heart into his extravagant narrative. he believed what he was saying. simply as the governor of Vaucouleurs. He was not lying consciously. and every little while stopped and stood facing his house and so standing continued his talk. and the one hand resting upon the hilt of his rapier and the other lifting his beaker. To him. he spoke of him the second night as his uncle the governor of Vaucouleurs. We went three nights in succession. and then brotherin-law. It was presently discoverable that this charm lay in the Paladin's sincerity. which he had picked up somewhere. As the noise died down he made a stately sort of a bow. Nobody believed his narrative. the third night his father the governor put the whole command. He made his enlargements without flourish. without emphasis. then fetched his beaker with a sweep to his lips and tilted his head back and drained it to the bottom. In three nights he promoted the Count of Vendome from a fresh acquaintance to a schoolmate. The first night the governor spoke of him as a youth without name or ancestry. and whenever he enlarged a statement. the third night he spoke of him as the lineal descendent of the whole dozen. Then the Paladin began to walk up and down his platform with a great deal of dignity and quite at his ease. the second night his uncle the governor spoke of him as the latest and worthiest lineal descendent of the chiefest and noblest of the Twelve Paladins of Charlemagne. the enlargement became a fact too. the third night he was his father. his initial statements were facts. the second night his uncle the governor sent him with the Maid as lieutenant of her rear guard. they dropped from his lips in a quite natural and effortless way. but "destined to achieve both". in his special charge. and his earnestness disarmed criticism—disarmed it as far as he himself was concerned.

At the King's Audience everything grew, in the same way. First the four silver trumpets were twelve, then thirty-five, finally ninety-six; and by that time he had thrown in so many drums and cymbals that he had to lengthen the hall from five hundred feet to nine hundred to accommodate them. Under his hand the people present multiplied in the same large way. The first two nights he contented himself with merely describing and exaggerating the chief dramatic incident of the Audience, but the third night he added illustration to description. He throned the barber in his own high chair to represent the sham King; then he told how the Court watched the Maid with intense interest and suppressed merriment, expecting to see her fooled by the deception and get herself swept permanently out of credit by the storm of scornful laughter which would follow. He worked this scene up till he got his house in a burning fever of excitement and anticipation, then came his climax. Turning to the barber, he said: "But mark you what she did. She gazed steadfastly upon that sham's villain face as I now gaze upon yours—this being her noble and simple attitude, just as I stand now—then turned she—thus—to me, and stretching her arm out—so—and pointing with her finger, she said, in that firm, calm tone which she was used to use in directing the conduct of a battle, 'Pluck me this false knave from the throne!' I, striding forward as I do now, took him by the collar and lifted him out and held him aloft—thus—as if he had been but a child." (The house rose, shouting, stamping, and banging with their flagons, and went fairly mad over this magnificent exhibition of strength—and there was not the shadow of a laugh anywhere, though the spectacle of the limp but proud barber hanging there in the air like a puppy held by the scruff of its neck was a thing that had nothing of solemnity about it.) "Then I set him down upon his feet—thus—being minded to get him by a better hold and heave him out of the window, but she bid me forbear, so by that error he escaped with his life. "Then she turned her about and viewed the throng with those eyes of hers, which are the clear-shining windows whence her immortal wisdom looketh out upon the world, resolving its falsities and coming at the kernel of truth that is hid within them, and presently they fell upon a young man modestly clothed, and him she proclaimed for what he truly was, saying, 'I am thy servant—thou art the King!' Then all were astonished, and a great shout went up, the whole six thousand joining in it, so that the walls rocked with the volume and the tumult of it."


He made a fine and picturesque thing of the march-out from the Audience, augmenting the glories of it to the last limit of the impossibilities; then he took from his finger and held up a brass nut from a bolt-head which the head ostler at the castle had given him that morning, and made his conclusion—thus: "Then the King dismissed the Maid most graciously—as indeed was her desert—and, turning to me, said, 'Take this signet-ring, son of the Paladins, and command me with it in your day of need; and look you,' said he, touching my temple, 'preserve this brain, France has use for it; and look well to its casket also, for I foresee that it will be hooped with a ducal coronet one day.' I took the ring, and knelt and kissed his hand, saying, 'Sire, where glory calls, there will I be found; where danger and death are thickest, that is my native air; when France and the throne need help—well, I say nothing, for I am not of the talking sort—let my deeds speak for me, it is all I ask.' "So ended the most fortunate and memorable episode, so big with future weal for the crown and the nation, and unto God be the thanks! Rise! Fill your flagons! Now—to France and the King—drink!" They emptied them to the bottom, then burst into cheers and huzzas, and kept it up as much as two minutes, the Paladin standing at stately ease the while and smiling benignantly from his platform.




Joan Persuades Her Inquisitors
WHEN JOAN told the King what that deep secret was that was torturing his heart, his doubts were cleared away; he believed she was sent of God, and if he had been let alone he would have set her upon her great mission at once. But he was not let alone. Tremouille and the holy fox of Rheims knew their man. All they needed to say was this—and they said it: "Your Highness says her Voices have revealed to you, by her mouth, a secret known only to yourself and God. How can you know that her Voices are not of Satan, and she his mouthpiece?—for does not Satan know the secrets of men and use his knowledge for the destruction of their souls? It is a dangerous business, and your Highness will do well not to proceed in it without probing the matter to the bottom." That was enough. It shriveled up the King's little soul like a raisin, with terrors and apprehensions, and straightway he privately appointed a commission of bishops to visit and question Joan daily until they should find out whether her supernatural helps hailed from heaven or from hell. The King's relative, the Duke of Alencon, three years prisoner of war to the English, was in these days released from captivity through promise of a great ransom; and the name and fame of the Maid having reached him—for the same filled all mouths now, and penetrated to all parts—he came to Chinon to see with his own eyes what manner of creature she might be. The King sent for Joan and introduced her to the Duke. She said, in her simple fashion: "You are welcome; the more of the blood of France that is joined to this cause, the better for the cause and it." Then the two talked together, and there was just the usual result: when they departed, the Duke was her friend and advocate. Joan attended the King's mass the next day, and afterward dined with the King and the Duke. The King was learning to prize her company and


value her conversation; and that might well be, for, like other kings, he was used to getting nothing out of people's talk but guarded phrases, colorless and non-committal, or carefully tinted to tally with the color of what he said himself; and so this kind of conversation only vexes and bores, and is wearisome; but Joan's talk was fresh and free, sincere and honest, and unmarred by timorous self-watching and constraint. She said the very thing that was in her mind, and said it in a plain, straightforward way. One can believe that to the King this must have been like fresh cold water from the mountains to parched lips used to the water of the sun-baked puddles of the plain. After dinner Joan so charmed the Duke with her horsemanship and lance practice in the meadows by the Castle of Chinon whither the King also had come to look on, that he made her a present of a great black war-steed. Every day the commission of bishops came and questioned Joan about her Voices and her mission, and then went to the King with their report. These pryings accomplished but little. She told as much as she considered advisable, and kept the rest to herself. Both threats and trickeries were wasted upon her. She did not care for the threats, and the traps caught nothing. She was perfectly frank and childlike about these things. She knew the bishops were sent by the King, that their questions were the King's questions, and that by all law and custom a King's questions must be answered; yet she told the King in her naive way at his own table one day that she answered only such of those questions as suited her. The bishops finally concluded that they couldn't tell whether Joan was sent by God or not. They were cautious, you see. There were two powerful parties at Court; therefore to make a decision either way would infallibly embroil them with one of those parties; so it seemed to them wisest to roost on the fence and shift the burden to other shoulders. And that is what they did. They made final report that Joan's case was beyond their powers, and recommended that it be put into the hands of the learned and illustrious doctors of the University of Poitiers. Then they retired from the field, leaving behind them this little item of testimony, wrung from them by Joan's wise reticence: they said she was a "gentle and simple little shepherdess, very candid, but not given to talking." It was quite true—in their case. But if they could have looked back and seen her with us in the happy pastures of Domremy, they would have perceived that she had a tongue that could go fast enough when no harm could come of her words.


So we traveled to Poitiers, to endure there three weeks of tedious delay while this poor child was being daily questioned and badgered before a great bench of—what? Military experts?—since what she had come to apply for was an army and the privilege of leading it to battle against the enemies of France. Oh no; it was a great bench of priests and monks—profoundly leaned and astute casuists—renowned professors of theology! Instead of setting a military commission to find out if this valorous little soldier could win victories, they set a company of holy hairsplitters and phrase-mongers to work to find out if the soldier was sound in her piety and had no doctrinal leaks. The rats were devouring the house, but instead of examining the cat's teeth and claws, they only concerned themselves to find out if it was a holy cat. If it was a pious cat, a moral cat, all right, never mind about the other capacities, they were of no consequence. Joan was as sweetly self-possessed and tranquil before this grim tribunal, with its robed celebrities, its solemn state and imposing ceremonials, as if she were but a spectator and not herself on trial. She sat there, solitary on her bench, untroubled, and disconcerted the science of the sages with her sublime ignorance—an ignorance which was a fortress; arts, wiles, the learning drawn from books, and all like missiles rebounded from its unconscious masonry and fell to the ground harmless; they could not dislodge the garrison which was within—Joan's serene great heart and spirit, the guards and keepers of her mission. She answered all questions frankly, and she told all the story of her visions and of her experiences with the angels and what they said to her; and the manner of the telling was so unaffected, and so earnest and sincere, and made it all seem so lifelike and real, that even that hard practical court forgot itself and sat motionless and mute, listening with a charmed and wondering interest to the end. And if you would have other testimony than mine, look in the histories and you will find where an eyewitness, giving sworn testimony in the Rehabilitation process, says that she told that tale "with a noble dignity and simplicity," and as to its effect, says in substance what I have said. Seventeen, she was—seventeen, and all alone on her bench by herself; yet was not afraid, but faced that great company of erudite doctors of law and theology, and by the help of no art learned in the schools, but using only the enchantments which were hers by nature, of youth, sincerity, a voice soft and musical, and an eloquence whose source was the heart, not the head, she laid that spell upon them. Now was not that a beautiful thing to see?


If I could, I would put it before you just as I saw it; then I know what you would say. As I have told you, she could not read. "One day they harried and pestered her with arguments, reasonings, objections, and other windy and wordy trivialities, gathered out of the works of this and that and the other great theological authority, until at last her patience vanished, and she turned upon them sharply and said: "I don't know A from B; but I know this: that I am come by command of the Lord of Heaven to deliver Orleans from the English power and crown the King of Rheims, and the matters ye are puttering over are of no consequence!" Necessarily those were trying days for her, and wearing for everybody that took part; but her share was the hardest, for she had no holidays, but must be always on hand and stay the long hours through, whereas this, that, and the other inquisitor could absent himself and rest up from his fatigues when he got worn out. And yet she showed no wear, no weariness, and but seldom let fly her temper. As a rule she put her day through calm, alert, patient, fencing with those veteran masters of scholarly sword-play and coming out always without a scratch. One day a Dominican sprung upon her a question which made everybody cock up his ears with interest; as for me, I trembled, and said to myself she is done this time, poor Joan, for there is no way of answering this. The sly Dominican began in this way—in a sort of indolent fashion, as if the thing he was about was a matter of no moment: "You assert that God has willed to deliver France from this English bondage?" "Yes, He has willed it." "You wish for men-at-arms, so that you may go to the relief of Orleans, I believe?" "Yes—and the sooner the better." "God is all-powerful, and able to do whatsoever thing He wills to do, is it not so?" "Most surely. None doubts it." The Dominican lifted his head suddenly, and sprung that question I have spoken of, with exultation: "Then answer me this. If He has willed to deliver France, and is able to do whatsoever He wills, where is the need for men-at-arms?" There was a fine stir and commotion when he said that, and a sudden thrusting forward of heads and putting up of hands to ears to catch the answer; and the Dominican wagged his head with satisfaction, and


looked about him collecting his applause, for it shone in every face. But Joan was not disturbed. There was no note of disquiet in her voice when she answered: "He helps who help themselves. The sons of France will fight the battles, but He will give the victory!" You could see a light of admiration sweep the house from face to face like a ray from the sun. Even the Dominican himself looked pleased, to see his master-stroke so neatly parried, and I heard a venerable bishop mutter, in the phrasing common to priest and people in that robust time, "By God, the child has said true. He willed that Goliath should be slain, and He sent a child like this to do it!" Another day, when the inquisition had dragged along until everybody looked drowsy and tired but Joan, Brother Seguin, professor of theology at the University of Poitiers, who was a sour and sarcastic man, fell to plying Joan with all sorts of nagging questions in his bastard Limousin French—for he was from Limoges. Finally he said: "How is it that you understand those angels? What language did they speak?" "French." "In-deed! How pleasant to know that our language is so honored! Good French?" "Yes—perfect." "Perfect, eh? Well, certainly you ought to know. It was even better than your own, eh?" "As to that, I—I believe I cannot say," said she, and was going on, but stopped. Then she added, almost as if she were saying it to herself, "Still, it was an improvement on yours!" I knew there was a chuckle back of her eyes, for all their innocence. Everybody shouted. Brother Seguin was nettled, and asked brusquely: "Do you believe in God?" Joan answered with an irritating nonchalance: "Oh, well, yes—better than you, it is likely." Brother Seguin lost his patience, and heaped sarcasm after sarcasm upon her, and finally burst out in angry earnest, exclaiming: "Very well, I can tell you this, you whose belief in God is so great: God has not willed that any shall believe in you without a sign. Where is your sign?—show it!" This roused Joan, and she was on her feet in a moment, and flung out her retort with spirit:


and matters were reversed. Send me to Orleans and you shall have signs enough. falling ever deeper and deeper under the influence of that mysterious something. that elusive and unwordable fascination. She was well-nigh smothered. And these grave men. accustomed to weigh every strange and questionable thing. for it was not in her delicate nature to like being conspicuous. fairly overwhelming Joan with objections and arguments culled from the writings of every ancient and illustrious authority of the Roman Church. of the dame De Rabateau. councilors and scholars of the Parliament and the University." All day long Joan. her judges had things their own way. On one of the latter days of that three-weeks session the gowned scholars and professors made one grand assault all along the line. crying out: "Listen! The Book of God is worth more than all these ye cite. And I tell ye there are things in that Book that not one among ye can read. There could not be but one result: all the objections and hindrances they 109 . the heroic little figure! can't you see her? There was a great burst of acclamations. but at last she shook herself free and struck back. she presiding. by invitation. sour man as he was. and honest. in the great court and subject to its rigid rules of procedure. but which neither high nor low could explain or describe. was at a disadvantage. while he scored nothing against Joan. as you can see by the histories. and one by one they all surrendered. but at night she held court herself. and cautiously consider it. he was a manly man. and she sat down blushing. and turn it about this way and that and still doubt it. "This child is sent of God."I have not come to Poitiers to show signs and do miracles. but he didn't do it. that winning and persuasive and convincing something which high and low alike recognized and felt. and night after night. came night after night. for at the Rehabilitation he could have hidden those unlucky incidents if he had chosen. and I stand upon it. with all your learning!" From the first she was the guest. yet. This speech and that episode about the French language scored two points against Brother Seguin. and not these only. wife of a councilor of the Parliament of Poitiers. that spell. saying. Give me men-at-arms—few or many—and let me go!" The fire was leaping from her eyes—ah. with her tongue free and her same judges there before her. but the old lawyers. but spoke them right out in his evidence. and to that house the great ladies of the city came nightly to see Joan and talk with her. which was the supremest endowment of Joan of Arc.

called the Maid. then. she carried her judges with her in a mass. for to repel it would be to offend the Holy Spirit. and is hereby declared. when there was silence again. First there were some solemn ceremonies. penetrating the deep hush so that every word was heard in even the remotest parts of the house: "It is found. proper and usual at such times. now solemnly and irrevocably delivered into her little hands. dying down and bursting forth again and again. for she was swallowed up in a great tide of people who rushed to congratulate her and pour out benedictions upon her and upon the cause of France. for all the great people of the town were there who could get admission and find room. and that the King may and ought to accept the succor she offers. that there is nothing in her person or her words contrary to the faith. and I lost sight of Joan. The court was a sight to see when the president of it read it from his throne. and render him unworthy of the air of God. the reading followed. that Joan of Arc." The court rose. In the end. and then the storm of plaudits burst forth unrebuked. 110 .could build around her with their hard labors of the day she would charm away at night. is a good Christian and a good Catholic. and got her great verdict without a dissenting voice.

But now came a verdict on that head. now they came clamoring to be enlisted under the banner of the Maid of Vaucouleurs. Two of the greatest scholars and theologians of the time—one of whom had been Chancellor of the University of Paris—rendered it. The verdict made a prodigious stir. the Church's authority to dress as a man. Never mind about the smaller waves. yes. it came flooding in. Our affairs were in full career now. but in a body. The commission of priests sent to Lorraine ostensibly to inquire into Joan's character—in fact to weary her with delays and wear out her purpose and make her give it up—arrived back and reported her character perfect. Whereas before. Oh. and the roaring of war-songs and the thundering of the drums filled all the air. tide after tide. you see. and nothing could ever rouse the people from their lethargy: "They will hear the drums—and they will answer.Chapter 9 She Is Made General-in-Chief IT WAS indeed a great day. let us come to the largest one of all. Having got a start. it is just and legitimate that her apparel should conform to the situation. that time there in our village when I proved by facts and statistics that France's case was hopeless. and a stirring thing to see. I remembered now what she had said. Our next wave of it was of this sort. the spiritless and cowed people hung their heads and slunk away if one mentioned war to them. wave on wave the good luck came sweeping in. There had been grave doubts among the priests as to whether the Church ought to permit a female soldier to dress like a man." It was a great point gained. In our case it was the same with good luck. wherever the great news traveled. the wave 111 . They decided that since Joan "must do the work of a man and a soldier. they will march!" It has been said that misfortunes never come one at a time. She had won! It was a mistake of Tremouille and her other ill-wishers to let her hold court those nights. Dead France woke suddenly to life.

and children. still those clear notes pealed out. called the Maid. Saintrailles. and take heed therefore. and throwing lacking articles of clothing on as they ran. and we pricked up our ears and began to count them. At last we reached the square. and still the rush of people increased till the whole town was abroad and streaming along the principal street. emoluments. These were the thoughts I was thinking. not even a corporal. the Bastard of Orleans. As we hurried along. one—two. veterans of old renown. and presently lighted upon a picture—a picture which was still so new and fresh in my memory that it 112 . hath been pleased to confer upon his well-beloved servant Joan of Arc. by the grace of God King of France. that the most high. men. with a prince of the blood for subordinate! Yesterday she was nothing—to-day she was this. My mind went travelling back. with one step. pause. we saw the herald in his brilliant costume. and dignity of General-in-Chief of the Armies of France—" Here a thousand caps flew in the air. with his servitors about him. couriers had been despatched to the King with it. again—and out we skipped and went flying. high on the pedestal of the great cross. and the hurricane began again. she was at the top. which was now packed with citizens. and all those others. but at last it did. for that formula was used only when the King's herald-at-arms would deliver a proclamation to the people. and the next morning bright and early the clear notes of a bugle came floating to us on the crisp air.that swept us small fry quite off our feet and almost drowned us with joy. then the herald went on and finished:—"and hath appointed to be her lieutenant and chief of staff a prince of his royal house. Yesterday she was not even a sergeant. and there. all flushed. authorities. The day of the great verdict. the most illustrious Charles. The next moment he began his delivery in the powerful voice proper to his office: "Know all men. not even a private—to-day. and the multitude burst into a hurricane of cheers that raged and raged till it seemed as if it would never come to an end. the title. illustrious masters of the trade of war. I was trying to realize this strange and wonderful thing that had happened. pause. people came racing out of every street and house and alley. One—two—three. General of the Armies of France. excited. women. one—two—three. you see. and was split up into innumerable strips by the blowers of it and wafted through all the lanes and streets of the town. his grace the Duke of Alencon!" That was the end. Yesterday she was less than nobody to the newest recruit—to-day her command was law to La Hire.

And now—the kitten had hardly had time to become a cat. and now it was curled up in her lap asleep. A peasant-girl in a far-off village. and she was knitting a coarse stocking and thinking—dreaming—about what. they were so out of the common order. with a prince of the blood to give orders to. and herself and her village as unknown as if they had been on the other side of the globe.seemed a matter of only yesterday—and indeed its date was no further back than the first days of January. She had picked up a friendless wanderer somewhere and brought it home—a small gray kitten in a forlorn and starving condition—and had fed it and comforted it and got its confidence and made it believe in her. and seemed so impossible. one may never know. her seventeenth year not yet quite completed. and yet already the girl is General of the Armies of France. and out of her village obscurity her name has climbed up like the sun and is visible from all corners of the land! It made me dizzy to think of these things. This is what it was. 113 .

She must have been thinking it all out before and arranging it in her mind. and framed itself into such vivacious and forcible language. The Great Bastard—him of the ducal house. But Joan meant to carry 114 . This letter was to be forwarded presently from Blois. It was of the finest steel.Chapter 10 The Maid's Sword and Banner JOAN'S first official act was to dictate a letter to the English commanders at Orleans. and polished like a mirror. and money were offering in plenty now. and gave him to Joan to be chief of her household. Catherine's at Fierbois. and governor of Orleans—had been clamoring for weeks for Joan to be sent to him. made of cloth-of-gold. Joan's Voices had told her that there was an ancient sword hidden somewhere behind the altar of St. clothing. Still. old D'Aulon. The priests knew of no such sword. heavily plated with silver. and at the same time he gave order that they should be properly equipped with arms. a trusty man and fine and honest. making their number and dignity accord with the greatness of her office. It had no sheath and was very rusty. but a search was made. summoning them to deliver up all strongholds in their possession and depart out of France. it flowed from her lips so smoothly. and commanded her to appoint the rest of her people herself. Meantime the King was having a complete suit of armor made for her at Tours. and now came another messenger. The King kept him. and she sent De Metz to get it. a veteran officer. richly ornamented with engraved designs. and Joan appointed Blois as a recruiting-station and depot of supplies. Men. it might not have been so. provisions. buried a little way under the ground. and her faculties were constantly developing in these latter weeks. and sure enough it was found in that place. and ordered up La Hire from the front to take charge. whither we were now to come. and horses. but the priests polished it up and sent it to Tours. she always had a quick mind and a capable tongue. and the people of Tours equipped it with another. They also had a sheath of crimson velvet made for it.

As a rule Noel Rainguesson was quite willing to let the dismal 115 . But the very mention of the subject was anguish to the Paladin. so she laid the showy sheaths away and got one made of leather. In these circumstances would policy allow her to consider us? We were not as cheerful as the rest of the town. It was of the most delicate white boucassin. and a Scotch painter named James Power made it. the streets and inns were thronged. MARIA. giving orders. whereon was represented an angel offering a lily to the Holy Virgin. the bustle of preparation was everywhere. Around Joan's headquarters a crowd of people was always massed. songs and shoutings and huzzas filled the air night and day. and when they got it. mostly not. It was generally believed that this sword had belonged to Charlemagne. sometimes not. on the reverse the crown of France supported by two angels. inscription. presenting lilies. and giving what odd moments she could spare to the companies of great folk waiting in the drawing-rooms. the town was full of strangers.this sword always in battle. for whereas we had some little hope. We were in a mixed state of mind—sometimes hopeful. but were inclined to be depressed and worried. she was so occupied. but she said it was not necessary. She also caused a smaller standard or pennon to be made. despatching couriers. At Tours she designed her Standard. and everybody carried a glad and cheerful face. but that was only a matter of opinion. whereas we had nothing of the sort to recommend us. She could fill her humblest places with titled folk—folk whose relationships would be a bulwark for her and a valuable support at all times. with fringes of silk. She had not appointed her household yet—that was our trouble. and should carry it only as a symbol of authority. for she was busy planning her campaign. receiving reports. but they seldom got it. and that these applications were backed by great names and weighty influence. we hardly saw her at all. JESUS. We knew she was being overrun with applications for places in it. every little while one heard the measured tramp of marching men—squads of recruits leaving for Blois. as she should never kill anybody. As for us boys. For device it bore the image of God the Father throned in the clouds and holding the world in His hand. Every now and then one heard the bray and crash of military music. Sometimes we discussed our slim chances and gave them as good an appearance as we could. hoping for a glimpse of the new General. Everything was humming there at Tours. I wanted to sharpen that old blade. he had none at all. they went wild. two angels knelt at His feet.

and—" He was drowned out with a chorus of groans and outraged exclamations. I had a dream last night. in fact. I have kept out of her sight as much as I could. and the news go back to the village and make those gawks stare that always said I wouldn't ever amount to anything—wouldn't it be great! Do you think it will come true." "Noel. I did say she promised to marry me. one of D'Aulon's liveried servants appeared and said we were required at headquarters. after all. and the news would go to the village. anyway—some kind of a lackey or body-servant. it is all a mistake." The Paladin roused up and looked almost cheerful. Do you think it will come true?" "Certainly.matter alone. I could. There's my hand on it. with a rising hopefulness: "I wish it might come true. and before he could begin again. She can't. Then all of a sudden all the joy went out of his face and misery took its place. for he was a believer in dreams." "Noel. and he said: "Oh. We rose. I forgot that foolish business at Toul. if it comes true I'll never forget you—shake again! I should be dressed in a noble livery. Then he pulled himself together and said. and those animals would say. Noel? Don't you believe it will?" "I do. it will never come true. I might almost say I know it will. lackey to the General-in-Chief. I could hug you if that dream could come true. or something of that kind. "It was the only lie I've ever told. Once we were talking the thing over. hoping she would forget that and forgive it—but I know she never will. but not when the Paladin was present. of course. but they put me up to it and persuaded me. He said. Paladin. hasn't he!" He began to walk the floor and pile castles in the air so fast and so high that we could hardly keep up with him. dear. admiring—well. And. remorsefully. I swear they did!" The vast creature was almost crying. with the eyes of the whole world on him. It wasn't a high one. he has shot up into the sky now. indeed! To be servant of the first General of France and have all the world hear of it. for my dreams hardly ever fail. and Noel said: 116 . when Noel said: "Cheer up. 'Him. and you were the only one among us that got an appointment. I wasn't to blame. but it was an appointment. and in anything and everything of a superstitious sort. all these weeks.

in front of a crowd of glittering officers of the army. and I said to myself." The Paladin entered humbly enough. she was become so great and so high above us now. you will give it me back. but improved. Let him be called. I think she has turned this braggart into a hero. and we are to go there and do him homage. but we couldn't find our tongues to say so. whose name was Jean Pasquerel. Joan greeted us with a winning smile." It was fine to see the Paladin's face light up when she said that. a young gentleman named Raimond was second page. looking embarrassed and afraid. I was first page and secretary. and his voice was unsteady with emotion when he said: "If I ever disgrace this trust. I make no doubt of it. He stopped there." He took the banner." "Now that is not well. but there is a man in you. Now she looked around and said: "But where is the Paladin?" The Sieur Bertrand said: "He thought he was not sent for. "By the ring of that. It is another of her miracles. and said: "I watched you on the road. my comrades here will know how to do a friend's office upon my body. as knowing they will not fail me. You will ride with me in every field." 117 . so we left him. your Excellency. She had previously appointed a maitre d'hotel and a number of domestics. You began badly." said Joan. It was a beautiful surprise to have ourselves honored like this when she could have had people of birth and consequence instead. and said she appointed all of us to places in her household. She is going to appoint him. and when France is saved. Come along!" But the Paladin was afraid to go. He ventured no farther than just within the door. which is now the most precious of the memorials that remain of Joan of Arc. One at a time we stepped forward and each received his warrant from the hand of our chief. for she wanted her old friends by her. the two knights stood highest." "I believe you. D'Aulon. she had two heralds. and also a chaplain and almoner. and I will bring it out. Noel was her messenger. All of us had honorable places. "Will you follow where I lead?" "Into the fire!" he said. "Here—take my banner. then Joan's two brothers. Of old you were a fantastic talker. Then Joan spoke pleasantly. When we presently stood in the presence."There—what did I tell you? I have a presentiment—the spirit of prophecy is upon me. and this charge I lay upon them.

And of all people in the world. isn't it a gigantic promotion. riding along. Sons of two dukes tried to get it. It's a kind of copy of Joan's own in miniature. Well." "Yes. It is the most conspicuous place in the army. I think I do. finding there capacities which 118 ." "I don't know how to account for it—do you?" "Yes—without any trouble at all—that is. and glanced up quickly. Finally Noel came up out of his thinkings and said: "The first shall be last and the last first—there's authority for this surprise. but I see you are.' 'No. this majestic windmill carries it off.Chapter 11 The War March Is Begun NOEL and I went back together—silent at first. and made his meaning clear. we were talking about Joan's great talents.' he said. He said the common eye sees only the outside of things. If you can make me understand this puzzle. and judges by that.' Then he explained. It was the greatest place in her gift.' I said. she has the seeing eye. 'But. do it." Noel was surprised at that. as if to see if I was in earnest. but the seeing eye pierces through and reads the heart and the soul. and he said. 'The seeing eye?—I shouldn't count on that for much—I suppose we all have it. He said: "I thought you couldn't be in earnest. and she can create more. greatest of all her gifts. There are many generals. and impressed. but there is only one Standard-Bearer." "True." "I believe I can. Tell me what the explanation is." "And the most coveted and honorable. One day. as we know. it was. like an unthinking fool. But at the same time wasn't it a lofty hoist for our big bull!" "It truly was. after her own. 'very few have it. when you come to look at it!" "There's no doubt about it. I am not over being stunned yet. You have noticed that our chief knight says a good many wise things and has a thoughtful head on his shoulders.

that Vesuvius of profanity. When she was a child and the tramp came one night. that rag-pile. though I sat with them and talked with them two hours. unspeakable hellions. then she will certainly take them in hand personally. that one for dash and daredevil assault. I would rather hear him swear than another man pray.' I judge he is the right man to take temporary charge there at Blois. if it cannot read men and select its subordinates with an infallible judgment. or I don't know her as well as I ought to." "La Hire!" cried Noel." 119 . while the commander without the seeing eye would give to each the other's place and lose. Does he know how to deal with that mob of roaring devils? Better than any man that lives. When I dined with the governor of Vaucouleurs so long ago. but she saw the honest man through the rags. yet she marked them for men of worth and fidelity. she has sent for Satan himself—that is to say. It sees as by intuition that this man is good for strategy. She places him in temporary command until she can get to Blois herself—and then! Why. her father and all of us took him for a rascal. He would rob. Said he. Whom has she sent for to take charge of this thundering rabble of new recruits at Blois. 'If God the Father were a soldier. that godless swashbuckler. that lurid conflagration of blasphemy. His name stirs me just as it did when I was a little boy. He is the frankest man there is. that abandoned refuse of perdition. forever in eruption.the outside didn't indicate or promise. He said the mightiest military genius must fail and come to nothing if it have not the seeing eye—that is to say. I saw nothing in our two knights." "I want to hear him swear. That will be a sight to see—that fair spirit in her white armor. after all these years of intimacy. and the naivest. he said it was nothing. the other for patient bulldog persistence. and they have confirmed her judgment. Joan was there five minutes. for he is the head devil of this world his own self. and it appoints each to his right place and wins. Joan has cast the seeing eye upon him. Once when he was rebuked for pillaging on his raids. and neither spoke with them nor heard them speak. and probably the father of most of them. you see. he is the match of the whole of them combined. made up of old disbanded Armagnac raiders. and which the other kind of eye couldn't detect. every one? Why." "Of course. and I saw it. La Hire—that military hurricane. "our hero of all these years—I do want to see that man!" "I too. He was right about Joan. delivering her will to that muck-heap.

we shall see. the procession was complete. I should have placed him in the rear to kill the wounded and violate the dead. the spectators realized that the curtain was rolling up before their eyes upon the first act of a prodigious drama. the windiest blusterer and most catholic liar in the kingdom. It was a clear. I shouldn't have chosen him for the most dangerous post in the army. When a person in Joan of Arc's position tells a man he is brave. in costly stuffs and rich colors. and saw a cloud of lancers moving. to believe yourself brave is to be brave." "Well. the curtain was up. and believing it is enough. as you may well imagine. until at last one seemed to even physically feel the concussion of the huzzas as well as hear them. Clothed for peace. "She's got the creating mouth as well as the seeing eye! Ah. Joan of Arc has spoken. We were beautiful to look upon now. I'm glad of his luck. riding two and two. the sun glowing with a subdued light upon the massed armor. Joan and the Duke of Alencon in the lead. Orders had been issued for the march toward Blois. we made a handsome spectacle. with her head up!" I was summoned now to write a letter from Joan's dictation. sharp. the first war-march of Joan of Arc was begun. that is the thing. and so on. plumed and sashed and iron-clad for war. I have an honest affection for the Paladin. and France is marching. the Paladin was a tower dyed with the glories of the sunset. 120 . and their rising hopes were expressed in an enthusiasm that increased with each moment. It joined us."Which brings us back to where we started. so to speak. yes. Joan probably knows what is in him better than we do. France was cowed and a coward. but striking bright upon the soaring lance-heads—a vaguely luminous nebula. beautiful morning. D'Aulon and the big standard-bearer next. in fact. During the next day and night our several uniforms were made by the tailors. As our showy great company trotted out in column. with a constellation twinkling above it—and that was our guard of honor. and as we plowed through the cheering crowds. but because he is my child—I made him what he is. it is the one only essential thing. And I'll give you another idea. with Joan bowing her plumed head to left and right and the sun glinting from her silver mail. he believes it. and our new armor provided. whether clothed for peace or war." "Now you've hit it!" cried Noel. he was a still statelier thing to look at. but I hadn't the seeing eye. Far down the street we heard the softened strains of wind-blown music. and not merely because he is a good fellow.

It was in the midst of this wild mob that Noel and I had our first glimpse of La Hire. They went roaring and drinking about. with a bushel of swishing plumes on his helmet. and how she said that if she could but be permitted to stand afar off and let her eyes rest once upon those great men. a man went down. He did it with his great fists. We followed the veteran to headquarters. for uttering lightly those mighty names. was his own secret. she would hold it a privilege. "staggering and cursing around like this. and they were no whit behind the men for romps and noise and fantastics. and wherever his blow landed. and as he passed through the camp he was restoring order. and the other. he was cased in mail from head to heel. that camp. that way. and at his side the vast sword of the time. there in the pastures of Domremy. admiring—yes. They were to her and the other girls just what they 121 . and proclaiming that the Maid had come. whooping. As he moved along swearing and admonishing. He was on his way to pay his respects in state to Joan. devouring. and their idol and ours. Oh. the pet hero of the boys of France from our cradles up to that happy day. What his idea of straightening up was. and he would have no such spectacle as this exposed to the head of the army. I called to mind how Joan had once rebuked the Paladin. La Hire and the Bastard of Orleans. He answered to our dearest dreams. swearing. you may say. shouting.Chapter 12 Joan Puts Heart in Her Army WE WERE at Blois three days. it is one of the treasures of my memory! Order? There was no more order among those brigands than there is among the wolves and the hyenas. he let drive this way. not borrowed. listening. and the place was full of loud and lewd women. He was of great size and of martial bearing. "Damn you!" he said. and entertaining themselves with all manner of rude and riotous horse-play. His way of creating order was his own. observing. and the Commander-in-Chief in the camp! Straighten up!" and he laid the man flat.

with his helmet in his gauntleted hand. and made her laugh as she had not laughed since she played in the Domremy pastures. too. When La Hire entered. For. they were littered in hell. he was coming to uncover his head before her and take her orders. he would knock his head off. There they were. we stepped on ahead and got a glimpse of Joan's military family. and one could see that those two took to each other on the spot. and yet it was true. And presently she gave him some instructions. La Hire bowed low. and all accepted recruits must be present at divine service twice a day. pouring out a most pathetic stream of arguments and blasphemy. and he and Joan sat there. drinking must be brought within proper and strictly defined limits. she said that all those loose women must pack out of the place at once. they'll see us both damned first!" And he went on. and they talked and laughed together like old friends. then he refreshed himself with a lurid explosion of oaths. so the soldier yielded. by Joan's glad smile. Next. and said all right." La Hire could not say a word for a good part of a minute.were to the boys. in his quality as master of the camp. But she stuck to her point. Well. but the Lord High Admiral of France was the handsomest of them all and had the most gallant bearing. six officers of wide renown. here was one of them at last—and what was his errand? It was hard to realize it. and discipline must take the place of disorder. While he was quieting a considerable group of his brigands in his soothing way. to begin with. one could see the surprise in his face at Joan's beauty and extreme youth. for they had all arrived now. that it made her happy to get sight of this hero of her childhood at last. and the others went away. and one could see. and would do the best that was in him. and he sipped her wine. near headquarters. she wouldn't allow one of them to remain. and said that if any man in the camp refused to renounce sin and lead a pious life. these poor darlings of mine! Attend mass? Why. if such were the orders he must obey. dear heart. And finally she climaxed the list of surprises with this—which nearly lifted him out of his armor: "Every man who joins my standard must confess before the priest and absolve himself from sin. the rough carousing must stop. That started Joan off again. the great chiefs of the army. she was really 122 . handsome men in beautiful armor. and made a bluff but handsome little speech with hardly an oath in it. which made his breath stand still. It was good to hear. then he said. which broke Joan all up. sweet child. The visit of ceremony was soon over. but La Hire stayed. in deep dejection: "Oh.

I would rather go to—" "Never mind where. but said he doubted if there was a man in camp that was any more likely to go to it than he was himself. 123 . That tough old lion went away from there a good deal tamed and civilized—not to say softened and sweetened." La Hire tried to cheer up. No matter. it isn't. left him more or less trammeled. no." "Oh. and she wanted him to be entirely free." "Break it off? It is impossible! I beg you to—to—Why—oh. she said he might swear by his baton. you are going!" "I? Impossible! Oh. my General. He sighed like a zephyr. and so wouldn't go to mass. and would try to modify himself elsewhere. for Joan said: "But. now that it was so old and stubborn a habit. for perhaps those expressions would hardly fit him. it is my native speech!" He begged so hard for grace for his impediment. on pain of death if he didn't. dear man. In the morning you are going to begin. that Joan left him one fragment of it. Noel and I believed that when he was away from Joan's influence his old aversions would come up so strong in him that he could not master them. but only the others. the symbol of his generalship. So the soldier sighed and said he would advertise the mass. but he was not able to do it. He promised that he would swear only by his baton when in her presence. but doubted he could manage it. and presently said: "Well. But she would not consent to that form of conversions. but before I would do it for another. am I dreaming? Am I drunk—or is my hearing playing me false? Why. She said they must be voluntary. But we got up early in the morning to see. I'll do it for you. he wasn't going to kill the voluntary ones.having a good time. and after that it will come easy. this is lunacy!" "Oh. and such a solace and support to his declining years. La Hire said that that was all right. She said that to give a man a chance to volunteer. you see. Now don't look downhearted like that. Break it off. none of them must be killed—Joan couldn't have it. Then there was another surprise for him. I swear I—" "But don't swear. You are going to the service—twice a day. Soon you won't mind it.

she could do with them what she would. hers so fair and pink. In her eye was stored all charity and compassion. but with his it was different. He was so big. and first they wondered.Satan was converted. and the hot desire she had aroused in it to be led against the enemy. then they worshiped. when her glance fell upon you it seemed to bring benediction and the peace of God. and wherever they appeared the enthusiasm broke forth. visiting every corner of it. its devotion to her. He went outside the camp when he wanted to swear. inspecting. Joan rode up and down that camp. exceeded any manifestations of this sort which La Hire had ever seen before in his long career. he a fortress of rusty iron. In three days it was a clean camp and orderly. and when the reformed raiders and bandits caught sight of them they spoke out. she so youthful. His admiration of it all. one could storm the gates of hell with it now. were beyond his power to put into words. so fresh and smooth. she so little. After that. They rode through the camp a dozen times a day. he such a cyclopedia of sin. They rode side by side. and those barbarians were herding to divine service twice a day like good children. the rest followed." Joan and he were inseparable. observing. his face was so bronzed and scarred. she was so pure. in his lightnings. and he so stern. you see. she was so gracious. descended out of the clouds. Well. she a shining statuette of silver. but his pride and confidence in it knew no limits now. and his wonder over the mystery and miracle of it. generally. he a great figure of brawn and muscle. He had held this army cheap before. with that sweet face to grace the vision and perfect it. perfecting. with affection and welcome in their voices. she a little masterwork of roundness and grace. and said: "There they come—Satan and the Page of Christ!" All the three days that we were in Blois. and wherever that fair young form appeared in its shining armor. He said: "Two or three days ago it was afraid of a hen-roost. 124 . The women were gone. La Hire was stunned by these marvels. Joan worked earnestly and tirelessly to bring La Hire to God—to rescue him from the bondage of sin—to breathe into his stormy heart the serenity and peace of religion. He was that sort of a man—sinful by nature and habit. but full of superstitious respect for holy places. The enthusiasm of the reformed army for Joan. so innocent. he could not understand them. and a quaint and pleasant contrast they made. he was so gray and so far along in his pilgrimage of life. the rude host seemed to think they saw the god of war in person.

I think. but of course I could not know that. he had no words to put it in. 1. And it was not borrowed. but was his very own. I could have understood why he was feeling so superior.She urged. for there had come a day between. when God's good gift of laughter had gone out from me to come again no more in this life. and then—oh."1 Then he put on his helmet and marched out of Joan's tent as satisfied with himself as any one might be who had arranged a perplexed and difficult business to the content and admiration of all the parties concerned in the matter.—TRANSLATOR 125 . I pray you to do by La Hire as he would do by you if you were La Hire and he were God. had never prayed. and he would obey—he would go through the fire for her if she said the word—but spare him this. only this. begging about piteously to be let off—to be let off from just that one thing. he had none to help him frame it. but it originated with La Hire. three days of our stay. grieved and shocked. she was laughing—laughing at La Hire's prayer. he made it out of his own head—saying: "Fair Sir God. she won that incredible victory. and the fact is of official record in the National Archives of France. I was coming to the tent at that moment.This prayer has been stolen many times and by many nations in the past four hundred and sixty years. It was not until six-and-thirty years afterward that I found that out. he stood there before her and put up his mailed hands and made a prayer. that impossible thing. he would do anything else—anything—command. for he couldn't pray. as I mistakenly thought—crying as if she could not contain nor endure the anguish of her soul. then I only cried when that picture of young care-free mirth rose before me out of the blur and mists of that long-vanished time. But it was not so. and saw him march away in that large fashion. But when I got to the tent door I stopped and stepped back. and saw him come out. crying as if she would die. And yet—can any believe it?—she carried even that point. She made La Hire pray. We have the authority of Michelet for this. that nothing was impossible to Joan of Arc. he was ignorant of how to frame a prayer. she implored him to pray. He stood out. Yes. and indeed it was fine and beautiful to see. she begged. for I heard Joan crying. It shows. If I had know that he had been praying.

and curving itself in and out of the crookedness of the road like a mighty serpent. and there were three degrees—tough. stretching away into the fading distances.Chapter 13 Checked by the Folly of the Wise WE MARCHED out in great strength and splendor. They seldom obeyed the King. Old warworn captains are hard-headed. and Marshal de Boussac. Would they obey the Maid? In the first place they wouldn't know how to obey her or anybody else. then came a body of priests singing the Veni Creator. La Hire. Florent d'Illiers. and by long habits of lawlessness they had lost all acquaintanceship with obedience. The several divisions were commanded by the great Armagnac generals. It was the first time that any of us youngsters had ever seen an army. and Poton de Saintrailles. Each in his degree was tough. after these the glinting forest of spears. the banner of the Cross rising out of their midst. they never obeyed him when it didn't suit them to do it. The initial part of Joan's great dream was realizing itself at last. tougher. if they had ever had any. practical men. They had no idea of obeying her except in cases where their veteran military knowledge and experience showed them that the thing she required was sound and right when gauged by the regular military standards. and took the road toward Orleans. and in the second place it was of course not possible for them to take her military character seriously—that country-girl of seventeen who had been trained for the complex and terrible business of war—how? By tending sheep. toughest—and La Hire was the last by a shade. It was indeed an inspiring sight. But what was the good of saying that? These independent birds knew no law. Were they to blame for this attitude? I should think not. They do not easily believe in the ability of ignorant children to plan campaigns and command 126 . the whole party. Joan rode at the head of it with her personal staff. and it was a most stately and imposing spectacle to us. but only a shade. They were just illustrious official brigands. that interminable column. the Sire de Retz.

She trusted those people. while theirs was to besiege the besiegers and starve them out by closing their communications—a plan which would require months in the consummation. To the French generals the idea of trying to fight their way past those fortresses and lead the army into Orleans was preposterous. the generals. To their minds they were everything with her. "The idea is insane—it is blunder No. That was this: the English soldiers were in a demoralized condition of superstitious terror. That was their idea—an unconscious paraphrase of Joan's reply to the Dominican. Why was Joan's idea insane." They privately sent the word to the Bastard of Orleans. 1. but that it was in their line of business. by fighting. they believed that the result would be the army's destruction. Joan would give the victory. It was her purpose to march boldly upon Orleans by the north bank of the Loire. nonsense—that was their function. to take it off. They said to themselves. One may not doubt that their opinion was militarily sound—no. and was not on the lookout for it. Did they consider Joan valueless? Far from it. She gave that order to her generals. By reason of 127 . They did it by deceiving Joan. She had a clear idea of how she meant to proceed. she was not expecting this sort of treatment. they had become satisfied that the Maid was in league with Satan. No general that ever lived could have taken Joan seriously (militarily) before she raised the siege of Orleans and followed it with the great campaign of the Loire. but not from hers? Because her plan was to raise the siege immediately. she saw to it that the game was not played a second time. would have been. So they began by playing a deception upon her. from the generals' point of view. They had a deep and superstitious reverence for her as being endowed with a mysterious supernatural something that was able to do a mighty thing which they were powerless to do—blow the breath of life and valor into the dead corpses of cowed armies and turn them into heroes. She could inspire the soldiers and fit them for battle—but fight the battle herself? Oh. but for one circumstance which they overlooked. would fight the battles. it is what might have been expected of this child who is ignorant of war. It was a lesson to her. They. He also recognized the insanity of it—at least he thought he did—and privately advised the generals to get around the order in some way. but nothing without her.armies. not hers. The English had built a fence of strong fortresses called bastilles around Orleans—fortresses which closed all the gates of the city but one. They valued her as the fruitful earth values the sun—they fully believed she could produce the crop.

" "And did you advise that I be brought by this side of the river instead of straight to Talbot and the English?" Her high manner abashed him. She said: "Are you the bastard?" "Yes. "my Lord's counsel is safer and wiser than yours. However. She was for attacking one of the three bastilles that were on our side of the river and forcing access to the bridge which it guarded (a project which. would raise the siege instantly). not sent for love of me. Louis and St. her joy in being now so far on her way to the theater of her mission was fire enough to warm her. You thought to deceive me. Her enthusiasm and impatience rose higher and higher with every mile of progress. Joan could have marched by the English forts. I am he. and it soon did it. but you have deceived yourselves. even to revered military idols of her childhood. and she was nearly as stiff as her armor itself when we resumed the march in the morning. enthusiasm. and am right glad of your coming. On the other hand. Dunois. and down it went. and he was not able to answer with anything like a confident promptness." said Joan. but with many hesitations and partial excuses he managed to get out the confession that for what he and the council had regarded as imperative military reasons they so advised.this a good deal of their courage had oozed out and vanished. At the prayer of St. for it is God's help. and zeal. if successful. six miles above Orleans. it was not to be. However. for iron is not good material for a blanket. for I bring you the best help that ever knight or city had. and was not in the mood for soft speeches. but by God's pleasure. and will not suffer the 128 . It was a cold night. came up from the city to welcome Joan. with a body of knights and citizens. but the long-ingrained fear of the English came upon her generals and they implored her not to make the attempt. but at last we reached Olivet. the Maid's soldiers were full of courage. She had been cheated out of her first chance to strike a heavy blow for her country. For she saw the trick that had been played upon her—the river lay between us and Orleans. So we moved on and came to a halt at a point opposite Checy. In camp that night she slept in her armor on the ground. "In God's name. The soldiers wanted to attack. Charlemagne He has had pity on Orleans. Bastard of Orleans. and indignation took its place. Joan was still burning with resentment over the trick that had been put upon her. but had to suffer disappointment.

enemy to have both the Duke of Orleans and his city. The provisions to save the starving people are here, the boats are below the city, the wind is contrary, they cannot come up hither. Now then, tell me, in God's name, you who are so wise, what that council of yours was thinking about, to invent this foolish difficulty." Dunois and the rest fumbled around the matter a moment, then gave in and conceded that a blunder had been made. "Yes, a blunder has been made," said Joan, "and except God take your proper work upon Himself and change the wind and correct your blunder for you, there is none else that can devise a remedy." Some of these people began to perceive that with all her technical ignorance she had practical good sense, and that with all her native sweetness and charm she was not the right kind of a person to play with. Presently God did take the blunder in hand, and by His grace the wind did change. So the fleet of boats came up and went away loaded with provisions and cattle, and conveyed that welcome succor to the hungry city, managing the matter successfully under protection of a sortie from the walls against the bastille of St. Loup. Then Joan began on the Bastard again: "You see here the army?" "Yes." "It is here on this side by advice of your council?" "Yes." "Now, in God's name, can that wise council explain why it is better to have it here than it would be to have it in the bottom of the sea?" Dunois made some wandering attempts to explain the inexplicable and excuse the inexcusable, but Joan cut him short and said: "Answer me this, good sir—has the army any value on this side of the river?" The Bastard confessed that it hadn't—that is, in view of the plan of campaign which she had devised and decreed. "And yet, knowing this, you had the hardihood to disobey my orders. Since the army's place is on the other side, will you explain to me how it is to get there?" The whole size of the needless muddle was apparent. Evasions were of no use; therefore Dunois admitted that there was no way to correct the blunder but to send the army all the way back to Blois, and let it begin over again and come up on the other side this time, according to Joan's original plan.


Any other girl, after winning such a triumph as this over a veteran soldier of old renown, might have exulted a little and been excusable for it, but Joan showed no disposition of this sort. She dropped a word or two of grief over the precious time that must be lost, then began at once to issue commands for the march back. She sorrowed to see her army go; for she said its heart was great and its enthusiasm high, and that with it at her back she did not fear to face all the might of England. All arrangements having been completed for the return of the main body of the army, she took the Bastard and La Hire and a thousand men and went down to Orleans, where all the town was in a fever of impatience to have sight of her face. It was eight in the evening when she and the troops rode in at the Burgundy gate, with the Paladin preceding her with her standard. She was riding a white horse, and she carried in her hand the sacred sword of Fierbois. You should have seen Orleans then. What a picture it was! Such black seas of people, such a starry firmament of torches, such roaring whirlwinds of welcome, such booming of bells and thundering of cannon! It was as if the world was come to an end. Everywhere in the glare of the torches one saw rank upon rank of upturned white faces, the mouths wide open, shouting, and the unchecked tears running down; Joan forged her slow way through the solid masses, her mailed form projecting above the pavement of heads like a silver statue. The people about her struggled along, gazing up at her through their tears with the rapt look of men and women who believe they are seeing one who is divine; and always her feet were being kissed by grateful folk, and such as failed of that privilege touched her horse and then kissed their fingers. Nothing that Joan did escaped notice; everything she did was commented upon and applauded. You could hear the remarks going all the time. "There—she's smiling—see!" "Now she's taking her little plumed cap off to somebody—ah, it's fine and graceful!" "She's patting that woman on the head with her gauntlet." "Oh, she was born on a horse—see her turn in her saddle, and kiss the hilt of her sword to the ladies in the window that threw the flowers down." "Now there's a poor woman lifting up a child—she's kissed it—oh, she's divine!" "What a dainty little figure it is, and what a lovely face—and such color and animation!"


Joan's slender long banner streaming backward had an accident—the fringe caught fire from a torch. She leaned forward and crushed the flame in her hand. "She's not afraid of fire nor anything!" they shouted, and delivered a storm of admiring applause that made everything quake. She rode to the cathedral and gave thanks to God, and the people crammed the place and added their devotions to hers; then she took up her march again and picked her slow way through the crowds and the wilderness of torches to the house of Jacques Boucher, treasurer of the Duke of Orleans, where she was to be the guest of his wife as long as she stayed in the city, and have his young daughter for comrade and roommate. The delirium of the people went on the rest of the night, and with it the clamor of the joy-bells and the welcoming cannon. Joan of Arc had stepped upon her stage at last, and was ready to begin.




What the English Answered
SHE WAS ready, but must sit down and wait until there was an army to work with. Next morning, Saturday, April 30, 1429, she set about inquiring after the messenger who carried her proclamation to the English from Blois—the one which she had dictated at Poitiers. Here is a copy of it. It is a remarkable document, for several reasons: for its matter-of-fact directness, for its high spirit and forcible diction, and for its naive confidence in her ability to achieve the prodigious task which she had laid upon herself, or which had been laid upon her—which you please. All through it you seem to see the pomps of war and hear the rumbling of the drums. In it Joan's warrior soul is revealed, and for the moment the soft little shepherdess has disappeared from your view. This untaught country-damsel, unused to dictating anything at all to anybody, much less documents of state to kings and generals, poured out this procession of vigorous sentences as fluently as if this sort of work had been her trade from childhood: JESUS MARIA King of England and you Duke of Bedford who call yourself Regent of France; William de la Pole, Earl of Suffolk; and you Thomas Lord Scales, who style yourselves lieutenants of the said Bedford—do right to the King of Heaven. Render to the Maid who is sent by God the keys of all the good towns you have taken and violated in France. She is sent hither by God, to restore the blood royal. She is very ready to make peace if you will do her right by giving up France and paying for what you have held. And you archers, companions of war, noble and otherwise, who are before the good city of Orleans, begone into your own land in God's name, or expect news from the Maid who will shortly go to see you to your very great hurt. King of England, if you do not so, I am chief of war, and whenever I shall find your people in France, I will drive them out, willing or not willing; and if they do not obey I will slay them all, but if they obey, I will have them to mercy. I am


come hither by God, the King of Heaven, body for body, to put you out of France, in spite of those who would work treason and mischief against the kingdom. Think not you shall ever hold the kingdom from the King of Heaven, the Son of the Blessed Mary; King Charles shall hold it, for God wills it so, and has revealed it to him by the Maid. If you believe not the news sent by God through the Maid, wherever we shall meet you we will strike boldly and make such a noise as has not been in France these thousand years. Be sure that God can send more strength to the Maid than you can bring to any assault against her and her good men-at-arms; and then we shall see who has the better right, the King of Heaven, or you. Duke of Bedford, the Maid prays you not to bring about your own destruction. If you do her right, you may yet go in her company where the French shall do the finest deed that has been done in Christendom, and if you do not, you shall be reminded shortly of your great wrongs. In that closing sentence she invites them to go on crusade with her to rescue the Holy Sepulcher. No answer had been returned to this proclamation, and the messenger himself had not come back. So now she sent her two heralds with a new letter warning the English to raise the siege and requiring them to restore that missing messenger. The heralds came back without him. All they brought was notice from the English to Joan that they would presently catch her and burn her if she did not clear out now while she had a chance, and "go back to her proper trade of minding cows." She held her peace, only saying it was a pity that the English would persist in inviting present disaster and eventual destruction when she was "doing all she could to get them out of the country with their lives still in their bodies." Presently she thought of an arrangement that might be acceptable, and said to the heralds, "Go back and say to Lord Talbot this, from me: 'Come out of your bastilles with your host, and I will come with mine; if I beat you, go in peace out of France; if you beat me, burn me, according to your desire.'" I did not hear this, but Dunois did, and spoke of it. The challenge was refused. Sunday morning her Voices or some instinct gave her a warning, and she sent Dunois to Blois to take command of the army and hurry it to Orleans. It was a wise move, for he found Regnault de Chartres and some more of the King's pet rascals there trying their best to disperse the army, and crippling all the efforts of Joan's generals to head it for Orleans. They were a fine lot, those miscreants. They turned their attention to Dunois


now, but he had balked Joan once, with unpleasant results to himself, and was not minded to meddle in that way again. He soon had the army moving.




My Exquisite Poem Goes to Smash
WE OF the personal staff were in fairyland now, during the few days that we waited for the return of the army. We went into society. To our two knights this was not a novelty, but to us young villagers it was a new and wonderful life. Any position of any sort near the person of the Maid of Vaucouleurs conferred high distinction upon the holder and caused his society to be courted; and so the D'Arc brothers, and Noel, and the Paladin, humble peasants at home, were gentlemen here, personages of weight and influence. It was fine to see how soon their country diffidences and awkwardnesses melted away under this pleasant sun of deference and disappeared, and how lightly and easily they took to their new atmosphere. The Paladin was as happy as it was possible for any one in this earth to be. His tongue went all the time, and daily he got new delight out of hearing himself talk. He began to enlarge his ancestry and spread it out all around, and ennoble it right and left, and it was not long until it consisted almost entirely of dukes. He worked up his old battles and tricked them out with fresh splendors; also with new terrors, for he added artillery now. We had seen cannon for the first time at Blois—a few pieces—here there was plenty of it, and now and then we had the impressive spectacle of a huge English bastille hidden from sight in a mountain of smoke from its own guns, with lances of red flame darting through it; and this grand picture, along with the quaking thunders pounding away in the heart of it, inflamed the Paladin's imagination and enabled him to dress out those ambuscade-skirmishes of ours with a sublimity which made it impossible for any to recognize them at all except people who had not been there. You may suspect that there was a special inspiration for these great efforts of the Paladin's, and there was. It was the daughter of the house, Catherine Boucher, who was eighteen, and gentle and lovely in her ways, and very beautiful. I think she might have been as beautiful as Joan herself, if she had had Joan's eyes. But that could never be. There


and now we had the misfortune to all fall in love with the same person at the same time—which was the first moment we saw her. and there was no use in anybody else's trying to get any attention. But what we preferred even to this happiness was the quieter occasions. that could make the doubter believe and the hopeless hope again. She didn't laugh loud—we. there will never be another. that could persuade—ah. The Paladin made us all jealous the first night. for when he got fairly started on those battles of his he had everything to himself. They produced all effects—and just by a glance. wished she would—but kept in the shelter of a fan. They spoke all the languages—they had no need of words. It was then that we did our best. we five youngsters. and the chief object of them was Catherine. when the formal guests were gone and the family and a few dozen of its familiar friends were gathered together for a social good time. and I still remember tenderly those few evenings that I was permitted to have my share of her dear society and of comradeship with that little company of charming people. so to speak. that could put courage into a coward and strike dead the courage of the bravest. there it is—persuasion! that is the word. None of us had ever been in love before. for pure enjoyment. entertained them to the verge of the grave. She was a merry heart. of course. accustomed to acknowledge no way as right and rational but his own—these were the trophies of that great gift that made her the wonder and mystery that she was. Joan's eyes were deep and rich and wonderful beyond anything merely earthly. a glance that could convict a liar of his lie and make him confess it. Catherine was like to die. and full of life. We mingled companionably with the great folk who flocked to the big house to make Joan's acquaintance. that could purify the impure mind. just a single glance. with such fascinations as we had.was never but that one pair. and shook until there was danger that she would unhitch her ribs from 136 . what or who is it that it couldn't persuade? The maniac of Domremy—the fairy-banishing priest—the reverend tribunal of Toul—the doubting and superstitious Laxart—the obstinate veteran of Vaucouleurs—the characterless heir of France—the sages and scholars of the Parliament and University of Poitiers—the darling of Satan. La Hire—the masterless Bastard of Orleans. and to hear this windy giant lay out his imaginary campaigns and fairly swim in blood and spatter it all around. that could bring down a proud man's pride and make him humble. and they made much of us and we lived in the clouds. that could appease resentments and real hatreds. Those people had been living in the midst of real war for seven months.

thus bringing on a new engagement. too. I was near her. too. and when the beleaguering forces smelt it they laid down their arms and wept. taking a whole night to it—a poem in which I most happily and delicately celebrated that sweet girl's charms. as it seemed to me. and could not be got to listen. Then when the Paladin had got done with a battle and we began to feel thankful and hope for a change. The others were as outraged by the Paladin's selfish conduct as I was—and by his grand luck. Each of us could do things that would please and get notice if it were not for this person. Becomes a red rose. I had never been jealous before. which was natural. and quite new. of course—perhaps. but any one could see who was meant. you see—a rose that was white before. with a hundred lies added that had been overlooked before. This was also my own idea. and presently when one of my attempts caused her to lose some precious rag or other of his mendacities and she asked him to repeat. indeed. The idea was my own. then I 137 .her spine. and I have to sit and see myself neglected when I was so longing for the least little attention out of the thousand that this beloved girl was lavishing on him. and increasing the havoc and carnage tenfold. for stooping to such a business—but she cared for nothing but his battles. and would he be so good as to describe that part again and with a little more particularity?—which of course precipitated the whole battle on us. That closed that part of the poem. who occupied all the time and gave others no chance. We talked our trouble over together. and it seemed intolerable that this creature should have this good fortune which he was so ill entitled to. I felt so humiliated by this pitiful miscarriage of mine that I gave up and tried no more. I had made a poem. and turns red in a single night. It pictured this pure and dainty white rose as growing up out of the rude soil of war and looking abroad out of its tender eyes upon the horrid machinery of death. for rivals become brothers when a common affliction assails them and a common enemy bears off the victory. again. Then it sent its sweet perfume out over the embattled city. I do not know how to make you realize the pain I suffered. for the bare title—"The Rose of Orleans"—would reveal that. and tried two or three times to get started on some of the things that I had done in those battles—and I felt ashamed of myself. she would speak up in a way that was so sweet and persuasive that it rankled in me. of course. and then—note this conceit—it blushes for the sinful nature of man. that was the main hurt. and ask him about some detail or other in the early part of his battle which she said had greatly interested her. and new. without mentioning her name.

it was not. 138 . but only part. and all we needed was something to turn up that would call for it. and could be done over again if desired. and so was I. the way Noel said those lines. whereas sixteen was just right. and growing always paler and weaker and thinner in his agony as he neared the cruel grave—the most touching thing—even the boys themselves could hardly keep back their tears. and perhaps forever. waging relentless war against a heartless foe to save her from an all too early grave. filling the vault of heaven with a fiery splendor. we may go on half of our life not knowing such a thing is in us. That is to say. If any had asked me a single day before if it was in me. if that is not too large a name for such a little poem—and eight in the astronomical end—sixteen stanzas altogether. And when the sad pursuing constellations came to know and realize the bitter sorrow that was come upon them—note this idea—their hearts broke and their tears gushed forth. The boys were amazed that I could make such a poem as that out of my own head. wonderfully pathetic. she was the moon. No. That is the way with us. and her city from destruction. death. but she would not halt. and out came the poem. I should have said it was not in me. It is wonderful how gifts and diseases can be concealed in that way. it being as much a surprise to me as it could be to anybody. It was a rash idea. for 'twas thought she loved another.put her into the similitude of the firmament—not the whole of it. I should have told them frankly no. beautiful and pathetic. but that would have been too many to sing or recite before a company that way. the way I had it. and he didn't know himself. At the end of each verse there was a two-line refrain pitying the poor earthly lover separated so far. for I did not know that it was in me. There were eight four-line stanzas in the first end of the poem—the end about the rose. I was so inspired and so all swelled up with beautiful thoughts and fancies. 'Twas thought she loved a poor unworthy suppliant who was upon the earth. as you may say. when in reality it was there all the time. but it was. and no more trouble to me to word it and rhyme it and perfect it than it is to stone a dog. with the rhyme and all to help. she would not listen. Indeed. and I could have made it a hundred and fifty if I had wanted to. and they never knew what was the matter with him till he died. of course. for those tears were falling stars. the horticultural end. from her he loved so well. and all the constellations were following her about. their hearts in flames for love of her. it was always so without family. and possible mutilation in the bloody field. facing danger. but beautiful. My grandfather had a cancer. All that was necessary in my case was for this lovely and inspiring girl to cross my path.

But how to get the opportunity—that was the difficulty. for that matter. they were so charmed and astonished. The thing that pleased them the most was the way it would do the Paladin's business for him. as I wanted the poem to make the best possible impression on Catherine and the company. and as soon as he was out of the room. they would nave nobody but Noel. attitudes. Noel Rainguesson was clear beside himself with admiration of the poem. Never was anybody so delighted. He could hardly believe that I was in earnest. and he couldn't. then I stepped within the door in my official uniform and announced that a messenger from General La Hire's quarters desired speech with the Standard-Bearer. and he could take of La Hire to the very life—or anybody else. I said that to have them know that I was the author of it would be enough for me. and if permitted would be glad to state them to the company. anyway. to let the Paladin get a good start in a manufactured battle. and Noel said if he could just get one chance at those people it would be all he would ask. to a certainty. but I was. gestures.The boys couldn't say enough about it. and give the rest of us a chance for the future. but that fortunately he was personally acquainted with the details of the battle himself. They forgot everything in their anxiety to get him shelved and silenced. That would get great applause. and there was never anything so pathetic and beautiful as the way he recited it. So the next night I kept out of the way until the Paladin had got his start and was sweeping down upon the enemy like a whirlwind at the head of his corps. and Noel took his place and said that the interruption was to be deplored. He had it by heart in half an hour. and when I tried with this poem the boys wouldn't let me finish. He could recite anything better than anybody in the world. That was. and win the house's favor and put it in the right mood to hear the poem. of course—with manner. have Noel take his place and finish the battle himself in the Paladin's own style. He left the room. For that was just his gift—that and mimicry. and wished he could do such a thing. Now I never could recite worth a farthing. of course. The two triumphs together with finish the Standard-Bearer—modify him. and at last we hit upon one that was sure. The boys were full of exultation. imitated to a shade. So then. he would make them realize that there was something higher and finer than warlies to be had here. and then send in a false call for him. I told Noel he might do the reciting. 139 . Then without waiting for the permission he turned himself to the Paladin—a dwarfed Paladin. tones. We invented several schemes that promised fairly. but it was out of his line.

He stood there now. was back again.everything exact. The more they laughed. and it would be impossible to imagine a more perfectly and minutely ridiculous imitation than he furnished to those shrieking people. on every hand. They went into spasms. so he came back. till really the laughter was not properly laughing any more. and the tears flowed down their cheeks in rivulets. and one gracious line after another fell upon those enchanted ears in that deep hush. the more inspires Noel grew with his theme and the greater marvels he worked. He knew the very best background for a poem of deep and refined sentiment and pathetic melancholy was one where great and satisfying merriment had prepared the spirit for the powerful contrast. which ruined all the effect 140 . clapping their hands like mad. Victory? It was a perfect Agincourt. half-audible ejaculations of "How lovely—how beautiful—how exquisite!" By this time the Paladin. and presently there was little left of her but gasps and suffocations. The next time the refrain was repeated he got to snuffling. resting his great frame against the wall and gazing toward the reciter like one entranced. and they kept it up and kept it up. With the next repetition he broke quite down and began to cry like a calf. one could catch. he found out at once that a trick had been played on him. He was so conspicuous that he embarrassed Noel a little. When Noel got to the second part. and sort of half sobbing. and went to wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his doublet. Catherine Boucher was dying with ecstasies. and at once all faces sobered in sympathy and took on a look of wondering and expectant interest. and went right on with the battle. When he approached the door he heard Noel ranting in there and recognized the state of the case. so he remained near the door but out of sight. The Paladin was gone only a couple of minutes. But Noel was clever. and heard the performance through to the end. The applause Noel got when he finished was wonderful. and had stepped within the door. Blessedest feature of all. convulsions. As he breathed the rhythmic measures forth. and that heart-breaking refrain began to melt and move all listeners. who had gone away for a moment with the opening of the poem. and shouting to him to do it over again. but screaming. and also had an ill effect upon the audience. So he paused until all was quiet. the Paladin began to wipe away tears with the back of first one hand and then the other. frenzies of laughter. Now he began in a low but distinct voice the opening verses of The Rose. then his face grew grave and assumed an impressive aspect.

Then he went on from bad to worse. 141 . Such things make a life of bitterness. Hear? You couldn't hear yourself think. and tried to shut its indecorous mouth and make itself grave and proper. but when it saw the Maid herself go to laughing. and then alongside my head there burst out the most inhuman explosion of laughter that ever rent the drum of a person's ear.and started many to the audience to laughing. and it happened: at the other door I saw the flurry and bustle and bowings and scrapings of officials and flunkeys which means that some great personage is coming—then Joan of Arc stepped in. for you could see everything that was in him. for he fetched out a towel from under his doublet and began to swab his eyes with it and let go the most infernal bellowings mixed up with sobbings and groanings and retchings and barkings and coughings and snortings and screamings and howlings—and he twisted himself about on his heels and squirmed this way and that. It was the most degrading sight that ever was. Noel was wholly drowned out and silenced. and I looked. and the house rose! Yes. Only one thing more and worse could happen. The effect of the poem was spoiled. Now I heard the clankety-clank that plate-armor makes when the man that is in it is running. and I do not wish to dwell upon them. it thanked God for this mercy and the earthquake that followed. still pouring out that brutal clamor and flourishing his towel in the air and swabbing again and wringing it out. and the stood there with his gauntlets on his hips and his head tilted back and his jaws spread to that degree to let out his hurricanes and his thunders that it amounted to indecent exposure. and it was La Hire. and those people were laughing the very lungs out of themselves. until I never saw such a spectacle.

and he learned from some boatmen that there was a stir of some kind going on in the bastilles on the other side of the river. and it seemed to me to be well and justly thought. It may be that you have prevented a disaster. It was ten at night when the Paladin brought this news and asked leave to speak to Joan. and satisfied herself that the word was true. Your name and service shall receive official mention. Joan made searching inquiries. as compensation for their defect. and were exulting greatly." who said that the English were going to send me over to strengthen the garrisons on our side during the darkness of the night. then she made this annoying remark: "You have done well. for they meant to spring upon Dunois and the army when it was passing the bastilles and destroy it." 142 . he found a deserter from the fortress called the "Augustins. It was a bitter stroke to me to see what a chance I had lost. but requires such as are more fortunately endowed to get by labor and talent what those others get by chance. and I was up and on duty then.Chapter 16 The Finding of the Dwarf THIS EPISODE disagreed with me and I was not able to leave my bed the next day. one or another of us might have had the good luck that fell to the Paladin's share that day. going about the town all the day in order to be followed and admired and overhear the people say in an awed voice. "'Ssh!—look. It was Noel who said this. But for this. but it is observable that God in His compassion sends the good luck to such as are ill equipped with gifts. and in the evening. and without her presence the army would do like the French armies of these many years past—drop their weapons and run when they saw an English face. seeking further. and you have my thanks. The Paladin. since the "Witch" would not be there. a thing quite easy to do. The others were in the same condition. it is the Standard-Bearer of Joan of Arc!" had speech with all sorts and conditions of folk.

Dunois asked her to halt and let the column pass in review. except her head. "What is he that is bound there?" she asked. Joan was armed. He was stretched out on his back. a couple of leagues from the city." "What is his offense?" "He is a deserter. "A prisoner. I heard the order given." "What is to be done with him?" 143 . for the army had begun to get restive and show uneasiness now that it was getting so near to the dreaded bastilles. sad sweet tears!—name in General Orders—personal mention to the King. tears. you see!" I wished Joan could have seen his conduct.Then he bowed low. and the battalions swung by with a martial stride. She was wearing the cunning little velvet cap with the mass of curved white ostrich plumes tumbling over its edges which the city of Orleans had given her the night she arrived—the one that is in the picture that hangs in the Hotel de Ville at Rouen. with a huzza that swept along the length of it like a wave. and when he rose he was eleven feet high. Then she had me fetch the knight Jean de Metz. or at any rate that there was a subtle something somewhere about her beauty that differed it from the human types of your experience and exalted it above them. that the Maid was come. Joan signed to the officer in charge of that division of the train to come to her. as the word ran down the line. We were on our way at five to the minute. and encountered the head of the arriving column between six and seven. The histories say half past four. and lit the fires in her eyes and brought the warm rich color to her cheeks. As he swelled out past me he covertly pulled down the corner of his eye with his finger and muttered part of that defiled refrain. but it is not true. So she took position at the side of the road with her staff. But that all disappeared now. and also his ankles. huzzaing. it was then that you saw that she was too beautiful to be of the earth. General. tears. "Oh. In the train of wains laden with supplies a man lay on top of the goods. so that the men could be sure that the reports of her presence was not a ruse to revive their courage. but she was busy thinking what she would do. and his hands were tied together with ropes. and in a minute he was off for La Hire's quarters with orders for him and the Lord de Villars and Florent d'Illiers to report to her at five o'clock next morning with five hundred picked men well mounted. oh. ah. The sight of soldiers always set her blood to leaping. She was looking about fifteen. and he rode up and saluted. Dunois was pleased.

" "Another? De par le Dieu! You would seek far to find one that can do it better than I. When he raised his hands Joan laid her sword to his bonds. so he went without leave." The officer said: "Ah. for his head was about on a level with her own. Joan said: "Hold up your hands. to bandage his wrists with. "blood—I do not like it"." "Overtook you? Did he come of his own will?" "Yes."He will be hanged. while he was being bandaged. if I had tied him the ropes had not cut his flesh. And I can tie better than those that did this." "He a deserter! Name of God! Bring him to me. he had an unkempt shock of black hair which showed up a striking way when the officer removed his morion for him. somebody." The man looked on silent. and there was a wistful something in his face which made one think that there had been music in it for him and that he would like to hear it again. "He is under sentence!" "Yes. He lifted it when he heard that soft friendly voice. But only for a moment. madam—my General!" "What is it?" she said. They had lacerated his wrists. he made Joan look littler than ever. and she cut the bonds. and there was no hurry. and she shrank from the sight. but it was not convenient on the march." The officer rode forward and loosed the man's feet and brought him back with his hands still tied. and they were bleeding. it was of his own will. "Ah. for I learned it long ago among both men and beasts. Standing by Joan's horse. "Give me something. I am responsible for him". I know. Let me bring another to do it. for weapon he had a big ax in his broad leathern belt. all interest in life seemed to be dead in the man. and built for business! He had a strong face. and he only overtook us yesterday evening. he said. but he asked leave to go and see his wife who was dying." "He is a good soldier." The man's head was down. such as an animal might that is 144 . Meanwhile the march began. pitiful!" she said. stealing a furtive glance at Joan's face occasionally. but the officer said with apprehension: "Ah. What a figure he was—a good seven feet high." "Tell me about him. but it could not be granted. His face was profoundly melancholy. my General! it is not fitting.

to crane their necks and watch the bandaging as if it was the most interesting and absorbing novelty that ever was. quite simply: 145 . all in two years. I have often seen people do like that—get entirely lost in the simplest trifle. one after the other. pleased with her success. She died in my arms. you may go. It may not be true. she would come—she would come through the fire! So I went. and each man hove a deep sigh. then they noticed it. Tell me—what is it you did? Tell me all. Then the army was gone. I begged for leave to go to her—she who was so dear to me—she who was all I had. others fared so—it was God's will. friendless and alone? Could I let her die believing I would not come? Would she let me die and she not come—with her feet free to do it if she would. I think. It was the famine. I begged on my knees." The giant said: "It was this way. as if she were thinking aloud: "It sounds true. I buried her. they didn't breathe. and glanced up with a surprised look as wondering to see the others there. There is no way of accounting for people." Then she said to the man. You have to take them as they are. I had trouble to overtake it. "another could have done it no better—not as well. my angel. once. as I have said. musingly." he said. "I knew it. but my legs are long and there are many hours in a day. Now there in Poitiers.receiving a kindness form an unexpected quarter and is gropingly trying to reconcile the act with its source. If true." Joan said. "There. Could I let her die. they were as good as dead. but if it is true—" She turned suddenly to the man and said. I saw her. I overtook it last night. and I buried them. "This man is pardoned. Give you good day. I had that grace." said Joan at last. My mother died. But they would not let me. it were no great harm to suspend the law this one time—any would say that. and when it began to sprinkle they didn't know it at first. then my three little children. and how he came to be there himself—but that is the way with people. when it is something that is out of their line. and Joan said to the officer. All the staff had forgotten the huzzaing army drifting by in its rolling clouds of dust. "Did you know it was death to come back to the army?" "Yes. Then when my poor wife's fate was come." "Then why did you do it?" The man said. I saw them die. "I would see your eyes—look up!" The eyes of the two met. I saw two bishops and a dozen of those grave and famous scholars grouped together watching a man paint a sign on a shop. and no cost upon it but only her life? Ah.

You shall have proper armor. therefore people liked 146 . and shall go on teaching your art. there was—France! The children of France have always their mother—they cannot be left with nothing to love. and was touched and pleased at the man's grave enthusiasm—solemn enthusiasm. I had nothing to live for. Take one of those led horses there. indeed. it shall be as you will. Joan picked him out on sight. it sat upon him so naturally: "It is to persuade persons to respect France. and he was a devil and the son of a devil when he turned himself loose with his ax. What are you called?" The man answered with unsmiling simplicity: "They call me the Dwarf. but it wasn't a mistake. if I have one—and all my strength. afterward?" "Yes. it made them quiet—quite pleasant and quiet. yes. She was all I had."Because it was death. yes—many. He was so big that he made the Paladin look like an ordinary man. and I will have no other." Joan smiled. and a good fellow he was. He liked to like people. one may call it. and said: "Have you given many lessons?" "Ah. sentinel." Joan laughed again. but I think it is more in jest than otherwise." That is how we came by the Dwarf. and follow the staff when we move. You shall live—and you shall serve France—" "I will serve you!"—"you shall fight for France—" "I will fight for you!" "You shall be France's soldier—" "I will be your soldier!"—"you shall give all your heart to France—" "I will give all my heart to you—and all my soul. or something like that?" "If I may!" "Then you shall. You are my France." It made Joan laugh. and she said: "It has something of that look truly! What is the office of that vast ax?" The soldier replied with the same gravity—which must have been born to him." "Ah. but now I have! You are France for me. no one could be faithfuler than he was. Would you like to be my man-atarms?—orderly. which is great—for I was dead and am alive again." "I should think it would happen so. for the manner of it was deeper than mere gravity—and she said: "Well." "The pupils behaved to suit you. There was nothing left to love.

Yes. I thought—including the Paladin. Joan was our country embodied. Joan returned to the front and rode at the head of the column. going to his death. which was on account of his warm and sumptuous style in battle. She sat up straight. but he saw France. I might say. The world has called our kings by it. They are not content with the cloudy abstract idea.him. And so it is as I say. and you know they wouldn't have given him pet names if they hadn't had a good deal of affection for him. and then their beloved idea is substantial and they can look at it and worship it. He was a good find. That was a humble eye to see so great a truth where some others failed. and the sneezing of the horses. they make a beautiful statue of it. When they love a great and noble thing. They called him the Bastille sometimes. and the other boys looked droopy. The awfulest thing was the silence. And yet. It shows you how the idea was embedded in his mind. and I could see that she was feeling different from me. it was. To me that seems quite remarkable. the spirit of France made flesh—he never got away from that idea that he had started with. that is the sort of a man he was. When we began to file past those grim bastilles and could glimpse the men within. To the Dwarf. the knights treated him almost like an equal—it is the honest truth. there wasn't a sound but the screaking of the saddles. and God knows it was the true one. and how real it was to him. and liked pretty much everybody he came across. When she stood before others. our country made visible flesh cast in a gracious form. When the march past was finished. poor chap. such a faintness came over me and such a sickness that all things seemed to turn dim and swim before my eyes. to the Dwarf. Why. that is where we got him—stretched on the wain. although I do not know this for certain. just what nations do. they saw Joan of Arc. because he was ahead of me and I had to keep my eyes out toward the bastille side. Joan was France. but he thought more of a paring of Joan's finger-nail than he did of all the rest of the world put together. for instance. But Joan was at home—in Paradise. Sometimes he would speak of her by that name. and sometimes they called him Hellfire. and he liked the knights. but I know of none of them who has had so good a right as she to that sublime title. they embody it—they want it so that they can see it with their eyes. in a way. the measured tramplings. standing to their guns and ready to empty death into our ranks. after all. because I could wince better when I saw what to wince at. 147 . like liberty. He liked us boys from the start. too. and nobody to say a good word for him.

It was said also that some of the officers were affected by the same superstitious fears. Bastard. they feeling certain that the creature was not mortal. The English warders on the battlements laughed a coarse laugh. forgetting that every one must begin. and they were for holding still and tiring the English out. It seemed to me that it was an ill-judged time to be taking a walk. She did have her doubts of her generals. Just as we were drifting in that suffocating stillness past a great cannon that stood just within a raised portcullis. it would be natural for them to prefer their own and try to get around carrying hers out. It was said afterward that when their men saw the Maid riding at the front and saw how lovely she was. but the very child of Satan. Sir Bertrand grabbed me as I went. It was on this march that the histories say Dunois told Joan that the English were expecting reinforcements under the command of Sir John Fastolfe.afflicted by the smothering dust-clouds which they kicked up. in any case. their eager courage cooled down in many cases and vanished in the rest. or suffer even a bitterer torture. and I fell out of the saddle. with nothing between me and it but the moat. I don't deny it. and we poked by all the grisly fortresses in peace. for she was all for storm and assault. they never offered to molest us. During the march I caught up on my devotions. than attract attention to myself. Well. and so the officers were prudent and did not try to make them fight. Since they did not believe in her way and were experienced old soldiers. If she really said it I think she only meant she would take off his official head—degrade him from his command. so it was not all loss and no profit for me after all. for if I had gone to the ground in my armor I could not have gotten up again by myself. for if he passes without my knowledge you shall lose your head!" It may be so. but I didn't her it. The English never uttered a challenge nor fired a shot. but it seemed to me that I would rather go unsneezed. and that she turned upon him and said: "Bastard. 148 . if there is one. which were in arrears. I was not of a rank to make suggestions. and was entitled to them. or I would have suggested that if we went faster we should get by sooner. a most uncommon jackass in there split the world with his bray. and that there had been a time when they themselves would have fared no better when shot by a jackass. in God's name I warn you to let me know of his coming as soon as you hear of it. I wanted to sneeze myself. It was not like her to threaten a comrade's life. which was well.

The generals began to balk. and that for only four days.But I did hear something that the histories didn't mention and don't know about. All Orleans met the army at the gate and huzzaed it through the bannered streets to its various quarters. and for the next twenty-four hours it would be quiet. it slumped down dog-tired. I heard Joan say that now that the garrisons on the other wide had been weakened to strengthen those on our side. all but the snoring. for Dunois had rushed it without mercy. but nobody had to rock it to sleep. privately. and that would open up communication with our own dominions and raise the siege. but they only baffled and delayed her. the most effective point of operations had shifted to the south shore. 149 . right away. so she meant to go over there and storm the forts which held the bridge end.

" "What's his old complaint?" Catherine asked. seeing my chance to help. "He—" "I will trouble you not to trouble yourself to explain anything for me." "Animals!" said Miss Catherine. he thinks he does think. just ordinary emotion. "I have reason to think—" "That is his way. He was troubled by his old complaint. which was all the time. The nice old treasurer. but this is an error.Chapter 17 Sweet Fruit of Bitter Truth WHEN WE got home." said Noel. "always when he thinks he has reason to think. we found the army in admirable condition I think I have never seen a finer body of animals. But it was not a fortunate remark. I am not objecting." I said. if you want to call it that. because now that his specially ordained and peculiar military rank set him above everybody on the personal staff but old D'Aulon. Nobody asked the Paladin to begin. What would you call it. and I was ashamed of myself for my hasty smartness. He didn't see the army. for the Paladin said: "It probably isn't your turn to criticize people's prudence—you who fall out of the saddle when a donkey brays. loftily. but he did begin." They all laughed." said the Paladin. I said: "It isn't quite fair for you to say I fell out on account of the donkey's braying. I noticed him. and in fact all three were flatteringly eager to hear about our adventures. It was emotion. Sir Bertrand?" 150 . He said: "God be thanked. and he didn't see it. who didn't eat with us. he didn't care a farthing for the knights' nobility no mine. "I will explain to you what he means." "Very well. but took precedence in the talk whenever it suited him. "Prudence. breakfast for us minor fry was waiting in our mess-room and the family honored us by coming in to eat it with us. because he was born that way." said Noel.

" said the old treasurer. sir." It was as straight and sensible a speech as ever I heard." "It was the cleanest and best way out. If I were you. and it was dismally still at the time. and you don't need to be ashamed of your record in that matter. too. it's nothing to be ashamed of. I don't quite know about that. too. It was clever of him. but to walk along in front of death. I should think. and then as none of the rest had bravery enough to expose the fear that was in him." That made me comfortable. "It's what I think. What does the Standard-Bearer think?" "Well. whatever it was." I was grateful to myself for getting into that scrape. 151 . no music. and the parents were gratified. saying that the ghosts of their house had been a dread and a misery to them and their forebears for generations. too. nobody believed he could tell the truth that way without practice. it was excusable. and saved the Standard-Bearer's credit. All of you have learned how to behave in hot hand-to-hand engagements. De Conte. Even the Paladin delivered his nod. That surprised everybody. so I came out and said: "It was fear—and thank you for the honest idea. Sir Jean de Metz said: "We were all in a body together when the donkey brayed. and I was grateful for the opening it gave me. then the girl clapped her hands in glee." He looked about him with a pleasant expression of inquiry on his good face. I don't see how any young campaigner could escape some little touch of that emotion."Well. "you've done well. I think. or would tell that particular sort of a truth either with or without practice. and nobody had ever been found yet who was willing to confront them and find out what their trouble was. with one's hands idle. and as each pair of eyes in turn met his head they were in nodded a confession. "We've got one! Would you try that one? Will you?" She was so eager and pretty that the Paladin said straight out that he would. and nothing going on. I've often thought I would like to see a ghost if I—" "Would you?" exclaimed the young lady. I would name the emotion. it—well. and when Miss Catherine said. I suppose he judged it would favorably impress the family. and no noise. Then the old treasurer said: "Passing the forts in that trying way required the same sort of nerve that a person must have when ghosts are about him in the dark. is a very trying situation. one volunteered after the other with a prompt mouth and a sick heart till all were shipped for the voyage. my lad.

152 .so that the family could heal it and content the poor specters and beguile them to tranquillity and peace.

The surging crowd was made up half of citizens and half of 153 ." she said. fully armed. "there are no sounds of war. and if there really is a battle. Before one could count five there broke upon the stillness the swelling rush and tramp of an approaching multitude of men and horses. but with no horses ready. when Catherine Boucher suddenly entered in great excitement. French blood is being spilt. give me my arms!' Her giant was on guard at the door. Fly!—and stay by her.Chapter 18 Joan's First Battle-Field ABOUT NOON I was chatting with Madame Boucher. sir. sarcastically—for I was always fond of sarcasm. fly! The Maid was doing in her chair in my room. nothing easier than that—I'll attend to it!" At the furthest end of the house I met Joan. and then out of the distance came the muffled deep boom!—boom-boom!—boom! of cannon. and he brought D'Aulon. saying. with hoarse cries of command. yes. 'French blood is flowing!—my arms. and we burst out after Joan in a body. and it was said that I had a most neat gift that way: "Oh. when she sprang up and cried out. and straightway that rushing multitude was roaring by the house like a hurricane. the Paladin in the lead with the banner." "You will hear war-sounds enough in a moment. Keep her out of the fight—don't fail of this!" I started on a run. your Excellency. keep her out of it—don't let her risk herself—there is no need—if the men know she is near and looking on. everything is quiet. and she said: "Ah." I said. and was gone. nothing was going on." "Indeed I did not know it. hurrying toward the door. Our knights and all our staff came flying. armed. and you did not tell me. and I and the giant have been warning the staff. who began to arm her. It was true. all was quiet. it is all that is necessary. and said: "Fly.

The city and the little garrison. and swept the English before them. a few hundred soldiers and citizens had plunged out at the Burgundy gate on a sudden impulse and made a charge on one of Lord Talbot's most formidable fortresses—St. French hearts—follow me!" and we came winging in her wake on the rest of the borrowed horses. and all awhirl with enthusiasm. we felt fine. men—follow me!" there was a change. in a way that was terrible to see. The sally had been reinforced by troops from the "Paris" bastille. and when we approached the French were getting whipped and were falling back. praise God. had gone wild over Joan's coming. crying. therefore he chose his place for himself. The news of this had swept through the city and started this new crowd that we were with. without orders from anybody. the holy standard streaming above us. Loup had sallied confidently out to meet the attack. and could no longer restrain their desire to get at the enemy. As we poured out at the gate we met a force bringing in the wounded from the front. it makes my hair rise to see it!" We were soon on the field. that is to say. "Forward. hacking and slashing. No. When Joan was seen a huzza went up. and went ahead of Joan and made a road for her. there—way for the MAID OF ORLEANS!" The first time that that immortal name was ever uttered—and I. and the lane closing together in our rear. so long hopeless and afraid.soldiers. The explanation of this sudden uprising was this. crying "Forward. now. was there to hear it! The mass divided itself like the waters of the Red Sea. and so were we. But when Joan came charging through the disorder with her banner displayed. The sight moved Joan. the French turned about and surged forward like a solid wave of the sea. a hundred people shouting: "Way. being used to victories when "witches" were not around. French blood. and down this lane Joan went skimming like a bird. so. and being hacked and slashed. soon in the midst of the turmoil. In the field the Dwarf had no assignment. and she shouted: "A horse—a horse!" A dozen saddles were at her disposal in a moment. It was horrible 154 . Joan was seeing her first real battle. for the garrison of St. She mounted. he was not under orders to occupy any particular place. This was a different thing from the ghastly march past the dismal bastilles. It was a battle in the open field. and she said: "Ah. and had no recognized leader. Loup—and were getting the worst of it.

Being right under Joan's exalting and transforming eye. where a multitude of flags were flaunting gaily in the wind. it is too desperate. He called it cracking nuts. let me urge you not to make the attempt. Not yet!" "Why not yet? Is there more to be done?" "More. he forgot his diffidence in the presence of danger. you can't be serious! We can't take this place. and then the English fought a retreating fight. and uttering handsome compliments as he came. he forgot his native prudence. We were in that close place only a few minutes. and plunged through the battle on his foam-flecked horse and galloped up to Joan. Now arrived Dunois from the city. whereas we saw these things now for the first time in all their naked ghastliness. and the blood and the mutilations and the dead faces were mercifully dim. saluting. Joan and the rest of us followed it so briskly that we outspeeded our forces and had the English behind us as well as before. and it looked like that. and we drove them to their fortress foot by see the iron helmets fly into fragments under his dreadful ax. He made a good road. now. and stone cannon-balls upon us. he forgot what fear was. which we did. She cried out: 155 . an awful sight to us youngsters. they facing us all the time." "Ah. cross-bow bolts. "Now? Hardly now. Let me order the forces back. and said the populace were up there observing her fortunate performance and rejoicing over it." Joan's heart was overflowing with the joys and enthusiasms of war. and paved it well with flesh and iron. then our forces to the rear broke through with a great shout and joined us. and it made her impatient to hear such talk. but in a fine and gallant way. The bulk of the enemy got safely within the works and left us outside with piles of French and English dead and wounded for company—a sickening sight. and he never laid about him in his imaginary battles in a more tremendous way that he did in this real one. Bastard. Bastard? We have but begun! We will take this fortress. One was obliged to respect the Paladin. and added that she and the forces would have a great reception now. and wherever he struck there was an enemy the less. and their reserves on the walls raining showers of arrows. and then there was work done that was fine to see. for our little ambush fights in February had been in the night. He waved his hand toward the distant walls of the city. The knights commanded us to face outward around Joan.

It was urged that they were most probably combatants in disguise. Sound the charge!" "Ah. whose outlines were lost in its own cannon-smoke. you know. will ye play always with these English? Now verily I tell you we will not budge until this place is ours. and Joan took these under her protection and saved their lives. and down they came against that formidable work. my General—" "Waste no more time. We gutted it. but Joan was here and there and everywhere encouraging the men. and her hero heart was a young girl's heart too. and if even one of these wears it rightfully. taking all its stores and artillery. and then destroyed it. sitting among a ruck of corpses. for they wanted to praise her and glorify her and do her homage for her victory. with the pity and the tenderness that are natural to it. and sent them away in safety. she was off by herself. surely it were better that all the guilty should escape than that we have upon our hands the blood of that innocent man."Bastard. the troops answered with a yell. They and the bells went mad. Among the prisoners were a number of priests. Loup was ours. crying—for she was a young girl. Joan was their darling now. with her face in her hands. and the bastille St. and feed them. and when we did find her. I will lodge them where I lodge. made a final and resistless charge. Bastard. but at last La Hire. and there went up a cry for the General. and she kept them to their work. We suffered repulse after repulse. how can any tell? They wear the livery of God. and learned to know so well in later fields. but she said: "As to that." We marched back to the city with our crop of cannon and prisoners on view and our banners displayed. The martial notes pealed out. She was thinking of the mothers of those dead friends and enemies. During three hours the tide ebbed and flowed. the first chance they had had to rejoice over a French exploit. who was now come. we had trouble to find her. When all our host was shouting itself hoarse with rejoicings. and whose sides were spouting flame and thunder. and the press of people struggling and shouldering each other to get a glimpse of her was so great 156 . We will carry it by storm. You may guess that they made good use of it. Here was the first substantial bit of war-work the imprisoned people had seen in the seven months that the siege had endured. man—let the bugles sound the assault!" and we saw that strange deep light in her eye which we named the battle-light. flowed and ebbed.

They chided her for going into the battle and exposing herself to danger during all those hours. Her new name had gone all about. The Holy Maid of Vaucouleurs was a forgotten title. the city had claimed her for its own.that we could hardly push our way through the streets at all. They could not realize that she had meant to carry her warriorship so far. and asked her if it had really been her purpose to go right into the turmoil of the fight. and she was the MAID OF ORLEANS now. and was on everybody's lips. 157 . Between that first utterance and the last time it will be uttered on this earth—ah. and saved from death against all hope or probability. It is a happiness to me to remember that I heard that name the first time it was ever uttered. It was good advice. or hadn't she got swept into it by accident and the rush of the troops? They begged her to be more careful another time. but it fell upon pretty unfruitful soil. maybe. think how many moldering ages will lie in that gap! The Boucher family welcomed her back as if she had been a child of the house.

and had a big table in it of enduring oak and well preserved. with candles. and this room was in a remote part of it which had been left unoccupied for nobody knew how many years. because of its evil repute. The dusty cobwebs under the ceiling had the look of not having had any business for a century. and had supper. fifteen here. this time—but she was otherwise minded. but this only postponed the trouble. it could not do more. and if it exists—and of that there is no 158 . This was a large room. It was a big house. We followed her and her parents to the haunted room at eleven o'clock.Chapter 19 We Burst In Upon Ghosts BEING WORN out with the long fight. There is no communication anywhere with that narrow room. As for me. As soon as there was a good opening and a fair chance. It is plain that this room was once larger than it is now. and also with torches to place in the sockets on the walls. like a salon. He could not go on forever. she brought up her unwelcome subject. Then we got up refreshed. and that the wall at this end was built in some bygone time to make and fence off a narrow room there. eighteen there. unless Catherine Boucher would give him a new start and have it all done over again—as we hoped she would. I could have been willing to let the matter of the ghost drop. with very thick walls. but the chair were worm-eaten and the tapestry on the walls was rotten and discolored by age. we all slept the rest of the afternoon away and two or three hours into the night. when he had carried the bastille by assault and eaten up the garrison there was nothing for it but to stop. and the others were of a like mind. Catherine said: "Tradition says that these ghosts have never been seen—they have merely been heard. and thirty-five yonder. no doubt. for they talked diligently of the battle and said nothing of that other thing. and we faced it the best we could. And indeed it was fine and stirring to hear the Paladin rehearse his deeds and see him pile his dead.

Then she and her parents left us. As this went on—oh. and take note of what happens. and as before I was staring at those waxen faces and feeling those airy touches on my hair and my shoulders once more. which made the matter the worse. low and not distinct." That was all. and I seemed sitting with a congress of the dead.reasonable doubt—it has no light and no air. as it seemed to me. and I shrank from them and cringed. it made one's heart sore to hear it. eternities it seemed. and when the wind began to moan around the house presently. and Sir Jean de Metz spoke out and said: "Come! we will smash that wall and set those poor captives free. swinging his great ax with both hands. mixed with pitiful ejaculations. for I saw the others doing the like. with his legs quaking. When their footfalls had died out in the distance down the empty stone corridors an uncanny silence and solemnity ensued which was dismaler to me than the mute march past the bastilles. and so the two voices went on. it made me sick and miserable. the more deadly still that stillness got to be. It came from that little dungeon. and others sprang for torches and brought them. When the last stroke died. Wait where you are. 159 . and the one seemed trying to comfort the other. came a "boom!—boom!—boom!"—a distant bell tolling midnight. and. ah. and it was easy to see that no one there was comfortable. and everybody sprang up and stood. The longer we sat so. But those sounds were so real and so human and so moving that the idea of ghosts passed straight out of our minds. faint and far and weird and slow. that depressing stillness followed again. At last. and I wished I had been brave enough to be a coward this time. but is an absolute dungeon. Here. We sat looking vacantly at each other. the tones were so full of compassion and sorry and despair! Indeed. for indeed it is no proper shame to be afraid of ghosts. And then these ghosts were invisible. They might be in the room with us at that moment—we could not know. with your ax!" The Dwarf jumped forward. and was not ashamed to show this fear. I felt airy touches on my shoulders and my hair. One minute—two minutes—three minutes of this. There was a pause. the time dragged so drearily—all those faces became as wax. with moanings. then we herd muffled sobbings. and knew that they were feeling those faint contacts too. then we heard a long deep groan. seeing how helpless the living are in their hands. Then there was a second voice. and soft sobbings.

We plunged within and held up the torches.Bang!—whang!—slam!—smash went the ancient bricks. and weave about them the romance of the dungeon's long-vanished inmates as best you can. 160 . Nothing there but vacancy! On the floor lay a rusty sword and a rotten fan. Now you know all that I know. Take the pathetic relics. and there was a hole an ox could pass through.

cross in force and capture those works. Joan interrupted him and said: "That will not do. a sort of industry just in their line. They said they had resolved to attack the most important of the English bastilles on the Orleans side next morning—and there the spokesman stopped. and then.Chapter 20 Joan Makes Cowards Brave Victors THE NEXT day Joan wanted to go against the enemy again. and then began some rambling talk not quite germane to the question. if the English weakened the far more important fortresses on the other side of the river to come to its help. it is not likely that any of you could better the matter. Are you concealing something from me? Bastard. She asked them what they were about and what they had resolved upon. You waste much time here in inventing plans that lead to nothing. Joan said: "Well. answer me this: if this attack is made and the bastille taken. am I to believe that you have lost your wits?" She turned to Dunois. how much better off would we be than we are now?" The Bastard hesitated. Joan intruded and took them by surprise. this council has a general plan. That is all. and said. But privately they profaned it with plottings. This would give them the bridge and free communication with the Sologne. good Bastard. They decided to keep this latter part of the program secret from Joan. They decided to do the only thing proper to do now in the new circumstances of the case—feign an attack on the most important bastille on the Orleans side." "There is nothing more. go on. I take it. "Bastard. and making delays that are a damage. without going into details. what is it?" 161 . you have answered. you have sense. but it was the feast of the Ascension." "Am I to believe this? That is to say. and the holy council of bandit generals were too pious to be willing to profane it with bloodshed. Since the Bastard is not able to mention any advantage to be gained by taking that bastille and stopping there. which was French territory.

that is the music I love to hear! Yes. but considered it impracticable. for we will cross and take the bridge forts. The true point of attack has shifted. We will move upon the forts of the south bank to-morrow at dawn. tell me the truth—does not this council know that there is no other course for us than the one I am speaking of?" Dunois conceded that the council did know it to be the most desirable. He said: "You see. we are sure that the waiting game is the best. John. then sit down and tire the English out. that we must begin with the bastille St." "And carry them by storm?" "Yes. then. General. carry them by storm!" La Hire came clanking in. seven months ago—to get provisions for a long siege." "In the name of God! As if seven months was not enough. be prudent!" "Be prudent and starve? Do ye call that war? I tell you this. and heard the last remark. One must take the fortifications that command the bridge. Now ye shall drop these pusillanimous dreams—the English shall go in three days!" Several exclaimed: "Ah. and that will give the English time to—" Joan turned and said: 162 ."It is the same it was in the beginning. my General—we will carry them by storm!" He saluted in his large way and came up and shook Joan by the hand. that is the right time and the beautiful words. Bastard. whereas you would carry everything by storm. General. He cried out: "By my baton. you want to provide for a year of it. You have but lost a day and made our task harder. and he excused the council as well as he could by saying that inasmuch as nothing was really and rationally to be hoped for but a long continuance of the siege and wearying out of the English." "That I would!—and moreover that I will! You have my orders—here and now. it is on the other side of the river now. They will reinforce the bridge forts from this side to-night. they were naturally a little afraid of Joan's impetuous notions. if you do not already know it: The new circumstances have changed the face of matters. The English know that if we are not fools and cowards we will try to do that. They are grateful for your piety in wasting this day. Some member of the council was heard to say: "It follows. knowing what ought to happen to-morrow.

blows were ready to be struck now. but you perceive that this child understands this complex game of war as well as any of you. The English will know enough to retire from it and fall back on the bridge bastilles when they see us coming. The joy of the people passed all bounds. after all these humiliating years. "Even a war-council would know enough to do that itself. that the policy of paltering and dawdling was ended. The city learned the great news that once more in French history." She added. Our landing on the island of St. The city walls were black with them to see the army march out in the morning in that strange new position—its front. as yet. John. so long accustomed to skulking. when she was disputing with the council. for although there was a fortress there—St. France was going to take the offensive. was going to advance. We moved down the shore and Joan planted her standard before the bastille of the Augustins. the first of the formidable works that protected the end of the bridge. was going to face about and strike. and that is all ye seem to see. that France. here you have it without ruffles or embroidery—by God. We threw a bridge of a few boats across the narrow channel thence to the south shore and took up our march in good order and unmolested."Give yourselves no uneasiness about the bastille St. therefore they made ready for the new state of things by transferring heavy reinforcements to the bastilles of the south bank from those of the north. La Hire made this general remark to the council: "She is a child. Aignan was not disputed. The trumpets sounded the assault." Then she took her leave. with a touch of sarcasm. You shall imagine for yourselves what the excitement was like and how it expressed itself. that in place of taking blows. We crossed the five in strong force. for 163 . John—the English vacated and destroyed it and fell back on the bridge forts below as soon as our first boats were seen to leave the Orleans shore. and two charges followed in handsome style. I think she can teach the best of you how to play it!" Joan had spoken truly. and if you want my opinion without the trouble of asking for it. toward an English camp. Keep to that superstition if you must. for the boats were small and not numerous. the sagacious English saw that the policy of the French had undergone a revolution. when Joan rode out at the head of the host with her banner floating above her. but we were too weak. which was what Joan had said would happen. not its tail. so used to retreating. and a tedious long job it was. that France.

through the smoke and flame and the deafening cannon-blasts. Joan keeping us hard at it. 164 . and when they saw the Maid's banner speeding in the other direction and the enemy scrambling ahead of it in disorder. Prive were seen coming up to reinforce the big bastille. The English fought like—well. but their wits were gone. Then she wheeled about and cried out: "If there is but a dozen of you that are not cowards. there is no more to say. and both forces came against us with a rush. The Augustins was ours. they fought like the English. and followed us. too. and at last as the sun was sinking we carried the place with a rush. if we would free the bridge and raise the siege. Our flying squadrons heard the bugle and turned to look. and shouting jeers and insults at us. when that is said. excepting the artillery and ammunition. Joan's temper flamed up. They came on a run. slashing and slaying. hold fast to what we had got. Joan was doing her best to rally the men. So Joan was not minded to let the men be demoralized by pillage and riot and carousings. La Hire heard it and hurried his force forward and caught up with us just as we were planting our banner again before the ramparts of the Augustins. their hearts were dominated for the moment by the old-time dread of the English. We must lie on our arms where we were. this is a child of Satan! That was their thought—and without stopping to analyze the matter they turned and fled in a panic. and the Augustins sallied out. We had a long and tough piece of work before us. The Tourelles must be ours. she had the Augustins burned. and after her a few dozen who had heard her words and been inspired by them. with all its stores in it. We made assault after assault. but we carried it through before night. and she halted and commanded the trumpets to sound the advance. their courage returned and they came scouring after us. and be ready for business in the morning. it is enough—follow me!" Away she went. We had achieved one great undertaking. and it was their turn now to experience a grisly fright—surely this is a witch. and planted our standard on its walls.our main body was still lagging behind. and must. and sent our small army flying in a panic. and she and La Hire saying we were able to take that big bastille. Joan was determined to accomplish the other. The pursuing force was astonished to see her sweeping down upon them with this handful of men. Before we could gather for a third assault the garrison of St. We were strong enough now.

everybody shouting. The chiefs argued with her. she wanted to stay with the army before the Tourelles. and several people drunk. to be ready for the assault in the morning. and so the tempest was always on hand.Everybody was tired out with this long day's hard work. We never went out or came in without furnishing good and sufficient reasons for one of these pleasant tempests. still. therefore the people too to the upheavals with all the more relish on that account. There had been a blank absence of reasons for this sort of upheavals for the past seven months. all the bells clanging. and at last persuaded her to go home and prepare for the great work by taking proper rest. 165 . and of course this was the case with Joan. and also by having a leech look to a wound which she had received in her foot. Just as usual. we found the town in a fury of joy. So we crossed with them and went home.

After some loving words and greetings to her mother and family. Don't distress her. you shall give yourself no concern about it." 166 . She said she had something on her mind. have you another wound and a worse. or very near it. I am writing about one which I shall get when we storm that bastille tomorrow. But then. and there they took their supper and there the wound was dressed. Joan went with Catherine straight to the apartment which the two occupied together. but Joan laid her hand upon her arm and made her sit down again.Chapter 21 She Gently Reproves Her Dear Friend TO GET away from the usual crowd of visitors and have a rest." A laugh like the laugh of the old days." "Child. I came. Joan. saying: "There. but it will fright her so to read these words. Joan. a laugh like a chime of bells. weary as she was. and wait only one day—two days at most—then write and say your foot was wounded but is well again—for it surely be well then. when Catherine spoke up and said: "Ah. was Joan's answer. came this: "But the thing which moves me to write now. there is no other wound. Strike them out." She was going on. and refuse faith to any that shall try to make you believe it is serious. in spite of Catherine's protests and persuasions. now. as yet. and have not spoken of it? What have you been dreaming about. do as I say. Joan. be tranquil. and must send a courier to Domremy with a letter for our old Pere Fronte to read to her mother. sent the Dwarf for me. full of vague fears. is to say that when you presently hear that I am wounded. strike them out. then she said: "My foot? Why should I write about such a scratch as that? I was not thinking of it. that you—" She had jumped up. dear heart. to have the leech called back at once. instead of going to bed. the impulsive free laugh of an untroubled spirit. and she began to dictate.

as I see by my record here. no. And it will not make me miserable." These marvels disturbed Catherine profoundly. Joan. resignedly. Catherine said: "And it is to happen to-morrow?—always to-morrow? Is it the same date always? There has been no mistake. It will happen—there is no doubt. in Chinon. it will. for we will hope—" "But it isn't a presentiment—it is a fact. "Louis. do you know it is going to happen?" "Yes." "Ah." said Catherine." "Joan. it will seek me." Joan turned to me. "the 7th of May is the date—there is no other. The wound is to come." "Then you shall not go a step out of this house till that awful day is gone by! You will not dream of it. It is uncertainties that do that." 167 . My Voices told me. two weeks ago. and to no good. will you?—promise that you will stay with us. shall I stay away for only a wound? Oh. dear good friend. One can get used to anything in this world. Joan. and come to-morrow. Catherine said in that same abstracted way as before: "Will. and no confusion?" "No.Catherine had the look of one who is trying to understand a puzzling proposition but cannot quite do it." "It is dreadful! Since when have you know it?" "Since—I think it is several weeks." I answered." But Joan was not persuaded. If I do not seek it. You spoke of it again the 20th of April. such a presentiment is a dreadful thing—it takes one's peace and courage all away. you will remember. in a distraught fashion: "A wound which you are going to get? But—but why grieve your mother when it—when it may not happen?" "May not? Why. I should have to go if my death were waiting for me there. How long is it?" "Your Excellency spoke of it first to the King. My duty calls me to that place to-morrow. She said. we must try to do better than that. I cannot seem to—my mind is not able to take hold of this. but I had long ceased to be surprised at them." Joan said. Cast it from you!—drive it out! It will make your whole night miserable. quite. It is a strong word. but this is not an uncertainty. Oh. She said: "It would not help the matter. and also the 22d. "if they told you—But are you sure it was they?—quite sure?" "Yes." The puzzle was a puzzle still. I know it. "that was as much as seven weeks ago.

There was a loving smile on Joan's face. then she said: "Oh. dear. Leave that to me. but Joan did it. you shall stay." She thought a moment. then added. as you shall decide. and I have had no experience. and I did so want to take her in my arms and comfort her. You love France and do not tell lies. Joan did it well. Do you love France?" I wondered what she might be contriving now. but I saw no clue. and I did that. gladly.'" There was a pause—a silence of the sort that tortures one into stealing a glance to see how the situation looks. they only made me realize how poor I was—how miserably poor in what I would most have prized in this world. and I am so paltry—so paltry and such a fool!" and she broke down and began to cry. I am so ashamed of myself!—and you are so noble and brave and wise. do—for you know about these solemn procedures and stately proprieties. and I would do much to please you. yes. JOAN OF ARC. as it was. Joan said: "Then you will send word to my headquarters that I am not going?" "Oh. and 168 . who are so good to me. Do not be hurt. but answer me—have you ever told a lie?" "In my life I have not wilfully told a lie—fibs. And how will you word it?—for it must have proper official form. and of course I said nothing."Then you are determined to go?" "Of a certainty. she being afraid she may get hurt. but. by the hand of CATHERINE BOUCHER. but the color was mounting in crimson waves into Catherine's. that the Generalin-Chief of the Armies of France will not face the English on the morrow. one should not be unreasonable. what have I done to deserve this question?" "Then you do love France. There is only one thing that I can do for France—hearten her soldiers for battle and victory." "Then word it like this: 'The chief of staff is commanded to make known to the King's forces in garrison and in the field. I thank you from my heart. Signed. I had not doubted it. I will go or I will stay." "That is sufficient. Catherine said. reproachfully: "Ah. Joan! How good and dear it is of you to do this for me! Oh. but no lies. "However. and not go!" In her delight she flung her arms about Joan's neck and squandered endearments upon her the least of which would have made me rich. therefore I will trust you. who loves France. and her lips were quivering and the tears gathering." "It is good of you. Shall I word it for you?" "Oh." "Oh.

that it would be safest and best to be content with what God had already done. and might make an awkwardness. that the city was now well victualed and able to stand a long siege. a good and wholesome thing is a little harmless fun in this world. when you look at it all around? Even Catherine dried up her tears and laughed when she thought of the English getting hold of the French Commander-in-Chief's reason for staying out of a battle. He said he was instructed to say that the council had decided that enough had been done for the present. We got to work on the letter again. and of course did not have to strike out the passage about the wound. "So it was to get me away from my men that they pretended so much solicitude about my fatigue. and introduced a gallant knight. well. and be embarrassing to us all. too. Take this message back." Now came Pasquerel. She granted that they could have a good time over a thing like that. it tones a body up and keeps him human and prevents him from souring. wasn't it. but I could have done it as well. that the wise course must necessarily be to withdraw the troops from the other side of the river and resume the defensive—therefore they had decided accordingly. it turned out to be. and the other playmate and friend. alas. and when she got to Haumette and Little Mengette it was no use. Joan was in fine spirits. and was many times tortured with doubts afterward as having perhaps let a chance pass which might have changed all my life and made it happier and more beautiful than. out of my heart of hearts! I shall never see our home any more. then said: "Give them my love—my warm love—my deep love—oh.most sweetly and tenderly. when I think of that scene. that. Well. It was a funny idea now. not to the council—I have no speeches for those disguised ladies' maids—but to the Bastard and La Hire. and I hope I did right and for the best. who are men. it brought our village and the Fairy Tree and the flowery plain and the browsing sheep and all the peaceful beauty of our old humble homeplace back. but when she got to sending messages to this. her voice broke and she couldn't go on. who had been sent with a message. so I did not offer. the Sire de Rais. 169 . and do not like to call it up out of the deeps of my memory because of the pangs it brings. though I could not know. She waited a moment. "The incurable cowards!" exclaimed Joan. and the familiar names began to tremble on her lips. though I knew it would be foolish and out of place to suggest such a thing. For this reason I grieve yet. To set that little trap for Catherine was as good and effective a way as any to show her what a grotesque thing she was asking of Joan. Joan's confessor.

and I shall be hurt between my neck and my shoulder. good sir." Then she said to her priest: "Rise early. and be by me all the day. And say the offensive will be resumed in the morning. There will be much work on my hands. You may go.Tell them the army is to remain where it is. and I hold them responsible if this command miscarries." 170 .

" "Listen to that—by the bridge! Now stop this jesting. Now be beguiled—wait and eat. who was grieved. There's a saying that he that would cross a river twice in the same day in a boat. will do well to eat fish for luck. you shall have a month for it in place of a day. there's going to be fish in plenty. but we don't require quite that much. she being in such a blaze of anxiety to get at that last remaining bastille which stood between her and the completion of the first great step in the rescue and redemption of France. she couldn't afford the patience. Aren't you coming back to us?" "Yes. dear General. then?" "By the bridge. for to-day I cross but once in a boat." "Be good then. but not in a boat. Boucher put in another plea: "But think—we poor beleaguered citizens who have hardly known the flavor of fish for these many months.Chapter 22 The Fate of France Decided WE WERE up at dawn. even of you. and do as I would have done you. good man. to see Joan going breakfastless to such a day's work. It's a noble fish." 171 ." Joan said: "Oh. and I will bring one of those Englishmen with me and he shall have his share. In the hall we met the master of the house. when this day's work is done the whole river-front will be yours to do as you please with." "Ah. have spoil of that sort again." "How. and begged her to wait and eat." "That doesn't fit my case. lest he have an accident. that I know. but she couldn't afford the time—that is to say." "Oh. and we owe it to you. don't say that. There's a noble shad for breakfast. wait—be persuaded. your Excellency will do well. and after mass we started. and save me some for supper.

" It would not be possible for any to describe how those few words turned that mourning into joy—into exaltation—into frenzy. When we reached the gate. But that feeling was gone now. have your way if you must. and called out: "Whither would ye suppose? I am going to take the Tourelles. FORWARD!" We were off." "Then make way. The soldiers broke from the crowd and came flocking to our standard. If you have an order from the King. You see. always ready to fight with words. but only universal gloom. as you may say. When shall you be back?" "When we've raised the siege of Orleans. But when they saw the Maid. He said it would be impossible to do this. and many of the citizens ran and got pikes and halberds and joined us. and were astonished. for they were filled with excited people. "Where is she going? Whither is she bound?" Joan heard it. They believed the Maid was a match for the council. and they were right. produce it. Bailly of Orleans. There was not a smile anywhere. and the hurrahing continued—yes. Joan told Gaucourt to open it and let her pass. The streets were full of citizens and of groups and squads of soldiers. It was as if some vast calamity had smitten all hope and cheer dead. Joan said: "There is no authority above mine but the King's. or take the consequences!" He began to argue the case. under that stout soldier Raoul de Gaucourt. the council had closed the Burgundy gate and placed a strong force there. and this shameful thing had plunged the city into sorrow and despair. We were not used to this. for he was like the rest of the tribe."Ah. we moved through a solid cloud of noise. But he that fasts must attempt but little and stop early. As we moved on. but in the midst of his gabble Joan interrupted with the terse order: "Charge!" 172 . and all the windows on both sides contributed to it. with orders to prevent Joan from getting out and resuming the attack on the Tourelles. well. our numbers increased steadily." "I cannot claim to have an order from him. for his orders were from the council and were strict. there was an immediate stir. not acts. and how a storm of huzzas burst out and swept down the streets in every direction and woke those corpse-like multitudes to vivid life and action and turmoil in a moment. but the spectacle was melancholy. General. and the eager question flew from mouth to mouth.

without further dispute. and was decided. or ever will. she was frightened. Its rear communicated with the bastille by a drawbridge. When she felt the sharp pain and saw her blood gushing over her breast. the Treaty of Troyes would have held good. Whenever you read in histories about hours or days or weeks in which the fate of one or 173 . and could keep it forever. an English province. The English sent up a glad shout and came surging down in strong force to take her. shouting encouragements to her men. under which ran a swift and deep strip of the Loire. and then for a few minutes the might of both adversaries was concentrated upon that spot. He said afterward that he was cut off in the midst of what he was saying—in the midst of an argument by which he could have proved that he could not let Joan pass—an argument which Joan could not have answered. The boulevard was strong. and Joan. and brief work we made of that small job. and as she sank to the ground she began to cry bitterly. and Dunois doubted our ability to take it. Over her and above her. already English property. poor girl. Charles VII.We came with a rush. when that misfortune happened which we knew was to happen—the iron bolt from an arbaquest struck between her neck and her shoulder." said the person he was talking to. We poured into the fosse through the smoke and a tempest of missiles. and in ten minutes by the clock. with a vast accession of noise. would have flown the country. the most of which was laughter. A nationality and a kingdom were at stake there. First we must take a supporting work called a boulevard. He was not used to this unsentimental promptness. before we could assault the great bastille. then about noon she ordered an assault and led it herself. the fate of France. If the English had captured Joan then. and France. indeed she was France to both sides—whichever won her won France. and no more time to decide it in than it takes to hard-boil an egg. to so remain until Judgment Day. and tore its way down through her armor. English and French fought with desperation—for she stood for France. for all time. It was good to see the Bailly's surprise. She pounded it with artillery all the forenoon. It was the most momentous ten minutes that the clock has ever ticked in France. it appears she did answer it. was to be decided. and which was otherwise nameless. but Joan had no such doubt. and soon our van was over the river and moving down against the Tourelles. Right there in that small spot. would have become. started to climb a scaling-ladder. "Still. We swung through the gate in great style.

"For France!" and a splintered helmet flew like eggshells. the ten minutes that France. but not to much purpose. with two nations struggling over her for her possession. They were like the Paladin. It was to be given whenever Joan should feel sure the boulevard was about to fall into her hands—then that force must make a counter-attack on the Tourelles by way of the bridge. and did the work of any six of the others. shielding him. He piled a bulwark of iron-clad dead in front of him and fought from behind it. lay bleeding in the fosse that day. as some of the histories say. and that the wound was treated with oil and properly dressed. Which it did. and did not try to. he said those two words. half of it her own and the other half English. with that awful dressing over it. Joan heard the bugles. for bodies had fallen across her as she lay and had poured their red life-streams over her. to the officer in command of a battery. Toward night Dunois gave it up. but when he was under Joan's eye and the inspiration of her great spirit. do not you fail to remember. This was a signal to the force on the Orleans side of the river under La Hire.another nation hung in the balance. for it was only under her eye that men were heroes and not afraid. and he ran up a ladder with Joan as easily as another man would carry a child. to stand ready to fire five shots in quick succession. with us. It may be—I did not wish to see. I think he was afraid of his shadow—I mean in the afternoon. Joan lay on the grass. As to this I do not know. And you will not forget the Dwarf. I only know it was pulled out. who was not. and sent another. when it was very big and long. and the pain made Joan cry again. and the skull that carried it had learned its manners and would offend the French no more. and bore her out of the battle. She countermanded the order. The iron bolt was still in the wound—some say it projected out behind the shoulder. He swung his ax with both hands. saying they could not bear to hurt her. For he stood over her. "What!" she cried. and at last when the victory was ours we closed about him. "Sounding the retreat!" Her wound was forgotten in a moment. what was he afraid of? Nothing in this world—and that is just the truth. Some say she pulled it out herself because others refused. whenever it came down. It was pulled out. 174 . poor thing. for she was drenched with blood to her feet. One couldn't see the white armor now. called otherwise Joan of Arc. but still insisting that the fight go on. weak and suffering. nor your French hearts to beat the quicker for the remembrance. a great crowd following and anxious. hour after hour.

then. and were at once eager for another assault on the boulevard. so he plunged under water like a lance. the burning timbers gave way under them and emptied them in a mass into the river in their heavy armor—and a pitiful sight it was to see brave men die such a death as that. God pity them!" said Joan. Sir Williams Glasdale. wherefore. Why. and standing there in the rain of bolts and arrows. we fought like wild beasts. for there was no give-up to those English—there was no way to convince one of those people but to kill him. then—all together—go!" And go it was. with her staff about her. and of course came up no more. He was clothed all in steel. and so. There. a most valorous knight. and maintained by many. A fire-boat was brought down and moored under the drawbridge which connected the Tourelles with our boulevard. "Ah. That was their leader. when she had sent him a message asking him to surrender. hand to hand.Joan mounted her horse now. We soon patched a sort of bridge together and threw ourselves against the last stronghold of the English power that barred Orleans from friends and supplies. and wept to see that sorrowful spectacle. when at last we drove our English ahead of us and they tried to cross that drawbridge and join their friends in the Tourelles. one might live a thousand years and never see so gorgeous a thing as that again. while we were hammering and being hammered in the smaller fortress. she ordered the Paladin to let her long standard blow free. "the place is yours—enter in! Bugles. Before the sun was quite down. You never saw anything like it." "Now. the reserve on the Orleans side poured across the bridge and attacked the Tourelles from that side." said Joan to the waiting battalions. She said those gentle words and wept those compassionate tears although one of those perishing men had grossly insulted her with a coarse name three days before. At least so it was thought. Joan's forever memorable 175 . but they were fired a moment after Joan had ordered the assault. sound the assault! Now. We were busy and never heard the five cannon-shots fired. in those days. We swarmed up the ladders and over the battlements like a wave—and the place was our property. and even then he doubted. Presently he said: "It touches. and to note when its fringes should touch the fortress. Joan rode straight to the fosse where she had received her wound. and when our people saw us coming they raised a great shout.

those acres of people that we plowed through shed tears enough to raise the river." All knew that that region would be empty of English next day. and the booming and bellowing of cannon and the banging of bells surpassed by great odds anything that even Orleans had attempted before in the way of noise. to see that he slumbers were not disturbed. "Welcome! welcome to the Maid of Orleans!" That was the cry. That was the greatest heart and the simplest that ever beat. I heard it a hundred thousand times. Why. No other girl in all history has ever reached such a summit of glory as Joan of Arc reached that day. That word has been true for more than sixty years. Orleans will never forget the 8th of May. the thing which the first generals of France had called impossible was accomplished. And do you think it turned her head. By the time we were ready to start homeward by the bridge the whole city of Orleans was one red flame of bonfires. this little country-maid at seventeen had carried her immortal task through. her banner floated from the fortress of the Tourelles. When we arrived—well. like any tired child. and when the people found she was wounded and would rest. in spite of all that the King's ministers and war-councils could do to prevent it. It is Joan of Arc's day—and holy. her promise was fulfilled. nor ever fail to celebrate it. and the heavens blushed with satisfaction to see it. sometimes. there is no describing that. another girl would have done that. 176 .It is still celebrated every year with civic and military pomps and solemnities. They said. they shut off all passage and traffic in that region and stood guard themselves the whole night through. "She has given us peace. and all said that neither the present citizens nor their posterity would ever cease to hold that day sacred to the memory of Joan of Arc. and had done it in four days! Good news travels fast. she had raised the siege of Orleans! The seven months' beleaguerment was's work was finished. and if Joan's feet had not been protected by iron they would have kissed them off of her. as well as bad. there was not a face in the glare of those fires that hadn't tears streaming down it.—TRANSLATOR. She went straight to bed and to sleep. and that she sat up to enjoy that delicious music of homage and applause? No. it will continue so always. but not this one.2 2. "Welcome to our Maid!" some of them worded it. she shall have peace herself.

They swarmed about the English bastilles like an invasion of ants. and the velvety green meadows seemed paradise to their surprised and happy eyes after the long habit of seeing nothing but dirty lanes and streets. It was difficult for the people to believe that this great thing had really happened. after their dull and joyless captivity. and came back at eventide weary. but leaving their fortresses just as they were. and equipped for a long siege. the grown folk followed Joan from church to church and put in the day in thanksgivings for the city's deliverance. that they were actually free once more. but noisier than those creatures. They had forgotten what grass was like. Talbot and his English forces evacuated their bastilles and marched away. with none to molest or forbid. After the burnings. armed. but laden with flowers and flushed with new health drawn from the fresh country air and the vigorous exercise. retreating—driven away by a girl. Out of every gate the crowds poured. imitation volcanoes whose lofty columns of thick smoke seemed supporting the arch of the sky. and at night they feted her and her generals and illuminated the town. provisioned.Chapter 23 Joan Inspires the Tawdry King IN THE earliest dawn of morning. was gone. It was a wonder to them—those spacious reaches of open country to run and dance and tumble and frolic in. not stopping to burn. The delight of the children took another form. By the 177 . vanished. then turned all those dozen fortresses into monster bonfires. or carry off anything. that the terrible Talbot. that man whose mere name had been able to annul the effectiveness of French armies. destroy. The city emptied itself. To some of the younger ones seven months was a sort of lifetime. and carried off the artillery and stores. and might go and come through any gate they pleased. and high and low gave themselves up to festivities and rejoicings. so they scampered far and wide over the fair regions on both sides of the river. that scourge of the French.

and when I remembered that Joan had called the war-council of Orleans "disguised ladies' maids. They crowded about Joan to touch her feet. The King's dandies were dressed in about the same fashion as himself. and we will let it go at that. comparing her to the saints and heroes of the Bible. and all the colors brilliant. so that the cap and the hair together made the head like a shuttlecock. Joan fell on her knees before the majesty of France. ingratitude. lifting its lip and showing its white teeth whenever any slight movement disturbed it. We moved between emotional ranks of grateful country-people all the way. toward dawn. but in our time we had a private name for him which described him better. In his lap he cuddled a miniature greyhound that snarled. he had on a crimson velvet cape that came no lower than his elbows. and from under that thimble his bush of stiff hair stuck down to his shoulders. her armor. he wore shoes with a rope-like pliant toe a foot long that had to be hitched up to the knee to keep it out of the way. All the materials of his dress were rich. The King had come to Tours to meet Joan. that she or any other person should kneel to him? But she—she had just done the only great 178 . that name ought to have been saved for these creatures. That was a march which would have turned any one's head but Joan's. on account of victories which other people won for him. on his head he had a tall felt thing like a thimble. we were in the saddle and away toward Tours to report to the King. What had that man done for his country or for anybody in it. but to my mind it had its inspiration in those great men's accurate knowledge of the King's trivial and treacherous character. At the present day this poor thing is called Charles the Victorious. The land was full of her praises. with a feather it its jeweled band that stuck up like a pen from an inkhorn. and warning him not to let "unbelief. He looked like a forked carrot. and was sanctified to him by personal deserving—Charles the Base. One might think there was a touch of prophecy in that.time the populace were fairly in bed. and the other frivolous animal in his lap—a sight which it pained me to see. or other injustice" hinder or impair the divine help sent through her. curving outward at the bottom. and they even knelt in the road and kissed her horse's hoof-prints. her horse. When we entered the presence he sat throned. with his tinseled snobs and dandies around him. so tightly did his clothing fit him from his waist down." it reminded me of people who squander all their money on a trifle and then haven't anything to invest when they come across a better chance. The most illustrious chiefs of the church wrote to the King extolling the Maid.

However. and she dropped her head and tried to hide her face. Then he stepped from his throne and raised her. He said: "You shall not kneel to me. they not knowing her any better than the King did. it is even likely to make her cry if she is as young as Joan was. As for me. my matchless General. A blush began to rise in Joan's cheeks at the thought that she was working for her country for pay. too. "But you must not stand. which is the unkindest thing a person can do when a girl is blushing. for the way they licked their chops. then. and the more they blush the more they fail to get reconciled to it. The King rallied her for blushing. and had consecrated it with the libation of her blood. in fact. you have wrought royally." He led her to a seat and sat down by her.deed that had been done for France in fifty years. no one knows why they do. and royal courtesies are your due." I was ashamed of him. I should not have acquired them." Noticing that she was pale. "Now. However. He passed his pup to a courtier. My prejudices are of a later date than that. one must grant that Charles acquitted himself very well for the most part. speak out frankly. when there is a big crowd of strangers. as to one who owes you much and freely confesses it before all this courtly assemblage. If he had continued as he was at that moment. He acted handsomely. and this 179 . as envying Joan her great chance. for how could he be expected to know this marvelous child in these few weeks. it is hidden from men. he said. God knows the reason for this. to be fair. and your wound is yet green—come. you have lost blood for France. when we who thought we had known her all her life were daily seeing the clouds uncover some new altitudes of her character whose existence was not suspected by us before? But we are all that way: when we know a thing we have only scorn for other people who don't happen to know it. so to speak. And yet that was not fair. and showed quite a spirited and manly joy and gratitude in welcoming her and thanking her for her extraordinary achievement in his service. The positions should have been reversed. on that occasion—very much better than he was in the habit of doing. I would as soon blush as sneeze. these meditations are not of consequence: I will go on with what I was saying. I would rather. and the more they can't bear to have people look at them when they are doing it. What shall be your reward? Name it. and took off his cap to Joan as if she had been a queen. The King made it a great deal worse by calling attention to it. And I was ashamed of these courtiers. as girls always do when they find themselves blushing. sometimes. but they do.

It is as if the circumstances were specially made for it. Leave this silken idleness for the rude contact of war? None of these butterflies desired that. My army is strong and valiant.brought up the rest of the blood and turned her face to fire. so of course the red in Joan's face turned to purple. "Oh. I pray you do not throw away this perfect opportunity. I have but one desire—only one. Everybody listened with anxious interest to hear what her claim was going to be." "That you will not delay a day. lose confidence. being asked for an opinion. "To Rheims—oh. and be bold again. turning to him: 180 . and presently when she was more composed he mentioned the reward again and pressed her to name it. and eager to finish its work—march with me to Rheims and receive your crown. The King was distressed. Delay will change this. Seeing us hesitate to follow up our advantage. They passed their jeweled comfit-boxes one to another and whispered their content in the head butterfly's practical prudence. If—" "Do not be afraid. impossible. Now is the time—pritheee let us march!" The King shook his head. my General! We march through the heart of England's power?" Could those be French faces there? Not one of them lighted in response to the girl's brave proposition. and said. think of those that lie between us and Rheims!" He was going on. dear and gracious Dauphin. all prudence is against it. but when her answer came their faces showed that the thing she asked for was not what they had been expecting. Everything is favorable—everything. our men will wonder. and the tears overflowed and ran down—I could have told anybody that that would happen. and saw that the best thing to do would be to get away from this subject. in his butterfly clothes. The spirits of our army are exalted with victory. saying: "Ah. my child—name it. Then he was sorry. eagerly furnished it: "Sire. seeing what he had done. so he began to say the finest kind of things about Joan's capture of the Tourelles. gather courage. those of the English forces depressed by defeat. and tried to make her comfortable by saying the blush was exceeding becoming to her and not to mind it—which caused even the dog to notice it now. but all promptly showed satisfaction in the King's objection." You could see the indolent King shrink. Think of the English strongholds along the Loire. doubt. and La Tremouille. and the English will wonder. but Joan cut him short. Joan pleaded with the King.

but the King put up his hand." The King did not blush. will you name your reward? I would ennoble you. La Tremouille was angry. and the court laughed too. Will that advantage us?" "Why—no."If we wait." "No state!" "No." Joan said placidly: "I have to beg your pardon. "Joan. and said. My trespass came of ignorance. indifferently: "Because there is no state. but burst into a hearty. my frank. but prudently turned its head and did it silently. reinforced. You shall quarter the crown and the lilies of France for blazon. how is that?" Joan replied. She has spoken the truth. sir. and opened his mouth to speak. and yet you had the impression that matters connected with my department are not matters of state? Pray. a sheriff's constable could take care of it. and said: "There—I take her under the royal protection. and no use for a minister. The term is too large. the ungilded truth—how seldom I hear it! With all this tinsel on me and all this tinsel about me. he was not used to being catechized in this fashion. honest General. and said: "Matters of state are not proper matters for public discussion. its affairs are not matters of state. careless laugh. with a touch of sarcasm: "I am the King's chief minister." "Wait for what?" The minister was obliged to hesitate." "Then what is your suggestion?—what is it that you would propose to do?" "My judgment is to wait. there is no state. they will all be strengthened. I did not know that matters connected with your department of the government were matters of state. with the eyes of a crowd of people on him. France is shrunk to a couple of acres of ground. so he was irritated. for he knew of no explanation that would sound well." and he laughed his cordial laugh again." 181 ." The minister lifted his brows in amused surprise. I am but a sheriff after all—a poor shabby two-acre sheriff—and you are but a constable. Moreover. and with them your victorious sword to defend them—speak the word.

The King paused and looked around upon these signs with quite evident satisfaction. and said: "Oh. and strongly impressed." But the King put his hand on her arm. After a moment she spoke out with what seemed a sort of terrified impulse." Even those insects were sobered by her impassioned words. child. is itself so supreme a reward that nothing can add to it—nothing." [Astonishment and envy flared up in every countenance when the words were uttered which conferred this extraordinary grace. The King looked very grave—grave. so short. Oh. but the end of it quenched it and she looked sad. and he added. and he rose and drew his sword and raised it aloft. use me—there is but little time!" "But little time?" "Only a year—I shall last only a year. and the tears gathered in her eyes.It made an eager buzz of surprise and envy in the assemblage. so great. we will think it over and see. the dearest of all rewards. Give me the one reward I ask. Ah. well. use me. to spend one's self for France. the moments are flying. You have conquered me—it shall be as you—" But a warning sign from his minister halted him. indeed you do. His eyes lit suddenly with an eloquent fire." "Oh. To be allowed to work for France." "Why. the time is so short. use me. thy fitting place! And for thy sake I do hereby ennoble all thy family and all thy kin. dear and noble Dauphin. I will beg it on my knees. And more!—more! To distinguish thy house and honor it above all others. and quickly—it is life or death for France. Does that content you. and so much to be done.] 182 . so true. to the relief of the court: "Well. the highest in your gift—march with me to Rheims and receive your crown. I beseech you. so noble—and by this accolade I join thee to the nobility of France. but Joan shook her head and said: "Ah. not only in the male but also in the female line. and all their descendants born in wedlock. you err. sit. we will think of it. In one little year the end will come. I cannot. impulsive little soldier?" The first part of the speech sent a glow of delight to Joan's face. and there was a really brave awakening in his voice and a manly fire in his eye when he said: "No. there are fifty good years in that compact little body yet. then he brought it slowly down upon Joan's shoulder and said: "Ah. we add a privilege never accorded to any before in the history of these dominions: the females of thy line shall have and hold the right to ennoble their husbands when these shall be of inferior degree. thou art so simple.

and by their kind grace she would remain simple Joan of Arc. But. the gilded children of privilege pressed forward to welcome her to their sacred ranks and call her by her new name. 183 ." As my Lady Du Lis rose."Rise. JOAN OF ARC! The mere sound of it sets one's pulses leaping. anything greater. and your own victorious sword. but she was troubled. shall be grouped in you escutcheon and be and remain the symbol of your high nobility forever. and said these honors were not meet for one of her lowly birth and station. nothing more—and so be called. fit and fair company for each other. My Lady Du Lis—why. in grateful acknowledgment of the good blow which you have struck for the lilies of France. now and henceforth surnamed Du Lis. perishable. Nothing more! As if there could be anything more. petty. and they. and the royal crown. Joan of Arc. anything higher. it was tinsel.

because when they were asleep they didn't know they were noble. And Joan was glad it had been conferred." "I was just afraid of it—just afraid of it. that he could see that they just felt good to be alive. made over the news." 184 . And she was as indifferent to it and as unconscious of it as the other sun would have been. and Noel and I will have to walk behind them—hey?" "Yes. but when it comes to civil ones and society affairs I judge they'll cuddle coolly in behind you and the knights. It was a clever thought in the King to outflank her scruples by marching on them under shelter of her love for her family and her kin. envied. and next the whole country. and their society was courted by everybody. "Afraid of it? I'm talking like a fool. they were so soaked with the comfort of their glory." I said. To us she was the sun soaring in the heavens. of course I knew it. when she saw how pleased they were. Joan of Arc ennobled by the King! People went dizzy with wonder and delight over it.Chapter 24 Tinsel Trappings of Nobility IT WAS vexatious to see what a to-do the whole town. But it was different with her brothers. But we did not think any great things of it. Why. And then he said: "They can't take precedence of me in military functions and state ceremonies." said the Standard-Bearer. which was quite natural. and so sleep was a clean loss of time. "I think you are right. one would have supposed that some great and fortunate thing had happened to her. The Standard-Bearer said. They were proud and happy in their new dignity. Yes. and didn't like to sleep at all. Jean and Pierre sported their coats-of-arms right away. with a sigh. To our minds no mere human hand could add a glory to Joan of Arc. to us it was swallowed up and lost in her own light. with some touch of bitterness. the nobles and commons alike. stared at. You cannot imagine how she was gaped at. I was talking like a fool. and her new nobility a candle atop of it.

why don't you?" "Because I don't see any novelty about it. With some people it is a condition which is present all the time." The Sieur de Metz said: "Paladin. did you? You think you are very clever. we've done that for the last time. Now you take a condition which is present all the time." We others laughed. I've been an ass. Yes. that would have been logical. but I didn't know the half of this that you've been telling. you did. I noticed something natural about the tone of it. that would have been rational. In my opinion there isn't a lay lord in this whole region that can walk in front of them. I see it now—I've been an idiot. man. except the Duke d'Alencon.Noel Rainguesson said. then it came: "I didn't know that. prince of the blood. is fatiguing. in a kind of weary way: "Yes. come!" "You'll find it's so. Didn't it occur to you that in civil and society functions they will take precedence of all the rest of the personal staff—every one of us?" "Oh. "Oh. but I don't see why you should seem surprised at it. He seemed to actually turn pale. because the condition of intellect that can 185 . they do nevertheless substantially quarter the arms of France in their coat. Imagine it! consider it! measure the magnitude of it! We walk in front of those boys? Bless you. this uniformity of result will in time become monotonous. Look at their escutcheon. don't you? I'll take and wring your neck for you one of these days. Its chiefest feature is the lilies of France. monotonousness. your fears haven't reached the top notch. He worked his lips a moment without getting anything out. that is all there is to it—I've been an ass. and the results of that condition will be uniform." "You don't. by the law of its being. don't you? Well. and sung out hello to them just as I would to anybody. I didn't mean to be illmannered. It's royal. that is likely enough. how could I? I've been an idiot." Noel Rainguesson said. royal—do you understand the size of that? The lilies are there by authority of the King—do you understand the size of that? Though not in detail and in entirety. Noel Rainguesson. I met them this morning. nor the half of it. If you had manifested fatigue upon noticing that you had been an ass. musingly: "Yes." You could have knocked the Paladin down with a feather. whereas it seems to me that to manifest surprise was to be again an ass. They are away below the grand possibilities.

I don't care." "Come. and he said: "Dear. and that cut our talk short. stop where you are. do you feel absolutely certain about that thing?" "What thing?" "Why. that Jean and Pierre are going to take precedence of all the lay noblesse hereabouts except the Duke d'Alencon?" "I think there is not a doubt of it. Somebody fetch this sick doll a sugar-rag. Sir Jean de Metz. and I do feel hurt. before you get yourself into trouble. what did you keep intruding your conversation on me for?" "I? I never dreamed of such a thing." Just then the bugles blew the assembly. the only thing. I am prouder to have climbed up to where I am just by sheer natural merit than I would be to ride the very sun in the zenith and have to reflect that I was nothing but a poor little accident. to have you treat me so. for I cannot abide your clack." The Standard-Bearer was deep in thoughts and dreams a few moments. And I have a right to feel hurt. Well. then the silk-and-velvet expanse of his vast breast rose and fell with a sigh. 186 ." "Well. you poor thing. it is neither very fair nor very good-mannered to call what he says clack. Noel Rainguesson. If you didn't want to hear my clack. I shouldn't care to be a painted accident—I shouldn't value it. dear. And don't bother me any more for some days or a week an it please you. merit is everything—in fact. To me. I tried to get out of talking. It seems to me that when a person goads. All else is dross. Look you. anyway. you did it." "Oh. what a lift it is! It just shows what luck can do. and crowds. I like that! I didn't want to talk. and got shot up there out of somebody else's catapult. snuffle—do! and break your heart.enable a person to be surprised and stirred by inert monotonousness is a—" "Now that is enough. and in a manner forces another person to talk.

and come quickly. and it is through him that we know what happened. the treasury was getting empty. oh. The army was full of zeal. Joan's answer was simple and straightforward. nothing done. It got no pay. and then the comforting Voices were heard at her ear saying. and urgently. but it was also hungry. Robert le Maton. but come. The Bastard of Orleans was present also. a former Chancellor of France. and Gerard Machet. soft and low. She said that when she met with people who doubted the truth of her mission she went aside and prayed. complaining of the distrust of these. to Rheims and receive your crown.Chapter 25 At Last—Forward! THE DAYS began to waste away—and nothing decided. it was becoming impossible to feed it. the joy in my heart. Joan threw herself at the King's feet and embraced his knees. and the smooth Bishop was not able to find any fault with it. Joan's distress was pitiful to see." Then she added. saying: "Noble Dauphin." "Then will you not tell us in the King's presence in what way the Voices communicate with you?" It was another sly attempt to trap Joan into indiscreet admissions and dangerous pretensions. "Go forward. But nothing came of it. and I will help thee. under pressure of privation it began to fall apart and disperse—which pleased the trifling court exceedingly. where the King was idling. prithee hold no more of these long and numerous councils. She found him consulting with three of his councilors. At last one day she went to the Castle of Loches. "When I hear that. Christophe d'Harcourt. it is insupportable!" 187 . Daughter of God. She was obliged to stand helpless while her victorious army dissolved away until hardly the skeleton of it was left." Christophe d'Harcourt asked: "Is it your Voices that command you to say that to the King?" "Yes.

for the wars had lasted generations now. He could sit around out of danger while the road was being cleared. most Frenchmen were soldiers. But Joan said: "We will break them up. both by practice and inheritance. Proclamations were issued calling for men. they had done next to nothing but run for near a century. And these were veteran soldiers. too. King and Court got the habit of being treacherous to the leaders. Yet all that those troops needed in order to be good fighters was a leader who would attend strictly to business—a leader with all authority in his hands in place of a tenth of it along with nine other generals equipped with an equal 188 . they granted that perhaps it had been a mistake to let the army waste away. running became the habit of the French troops. and the commons and the nobles began to flock to it with enthusiasm. and admirable runners." With that plan the King was willing to venture assent. leave to march. She had eight thousand men." "No matter—begin! let us begin!" "It is too late." The King objected that he could not venture toward Rheims with those strong places on the Loire in his path. Joan pleaded. a recruiting-camp was established at Selles in Berry." "Yes. then the leaders easily got the habit of disobeying the King and going their own way. But we must throw away no more time. A deal of the month of May had been wasted. When they could answer nothing further. persuaded. Hence. Away back. Think of that. but opposed step by step by the council. Think of gathering together such a body as that in that little region. too. we must bestir ourselves. In fact. when you came to that. gaining ground little by little. while we have been disbanding ours—and pity 'tis. Straightway everything was stirring.The Bastard said that when she said these words her face lit up as with a flame. and yet by the 6th of June Joan had swept together a new army and was ready to march. each for himself and nobody for the lot. Yes. but how could we help it now? how could we march without an army? "Raise one!" said Joan. But that was not their fault. she implored. Nobody could win victories that way. Then you can march. and she was like one in an ecstasy. most of the men in France were soldiers. "But it will take six weeks. and no wonder. They had had no fair and proper leadership—at least leaders with a fair and proper chance. Without doubt the Duke of Bedford has been gathering troops to push to the succor of his strongholds on the Loire. Joan came back in great spirits. reasoned. She begged.

So the King sent for them and presented them to her. under her standard." 189 . And wherever she came charging down the lines. she was such a vision of young bloom and beauty and grace. and with a head and heart bent on war of the most intensely businesslike and earnest sort—and there would be results. They had a leader rightly clothed with authority now. all over the camp. for she was well past seventeen now—in fact. like martial music. and they could not rest till they had seen Joan of Arc. No doubt of that. and the soul that looked out of that face. just a little woman. and such an incarnation of pluck and life and go! she was growing more and more ideally beautiful every day. and it was a true word. When they heard that rich voice of hers they must have thought it was a flute. And nobody could help cheering. Truer word was never spoken. He saw her when she was ready to begin her march and open the campaign. She was here and there and everywhere. Then she said. yes. as was plain to be seen—and these were days of development. it was good to hear them break out and cheer. pushing things. So they led him there. make processions and pray to God for us!' Then she spurred away. you could see that the sight of her stirred them like a poem." Ah. crying 'Forward—march!' One of her brothers. who came eight days ago. as you may say. and in her hand she carried a little battle-ax. and under that leadership their legs would lose the art and mystery of running. The two young Counts de Laval arrived one day—fine young fellows allied to the greatest and most illustrious houses of France. Joan was in great spirits. and when they saw her deep eyes and her face. in her soft womanly voice. "It seemed something divine to see her and hear her.tenth apiece. Then she mounted. she was getting close upon seventeen and a half—indeed.' This cross was in front of the church close by. with her little ax in her hand. Yes. priests and people of the Church. departed with her. One of them wrote home to his people. and this is what he said about it: "She was clothed all in white armor save her head. and in his letter he said. like lofty eloquence. and he never budged. and when she was ready to mount her great black horse he reared and plunged and would not let her. any more than if he had been tied. 'Lead him to the cross. and you may believe she filled the bill of their expectations. and he also was clad all in white armor. 'You. They had Joan of Arc. by day and by night. reviewing the troops. Then she turned toward the door of the church and said.

But God grant I may not have to wait till then. so it seemed a proper time for others to do the like. but at last we crowded through to our old lodgings. and oh. the white armor—all in the soft June afternoon. and from that day forth she was sacred to me. and she held Joan to her breast. saw it all. for she foresaw desperate fighting. and take care of him.I was there. And I rode with the staff—the personal staff—the staff of Joan of Arc. so sweet! I had loved her the first day I ever saw her. and it is not just words. In his letter he said: "She told me that when the King starts for Rheims I shall go with him. Ambroise de Lor. under triumphal arches. and I so famished for it. The duchess was troubled for her husband." Joan said: "I give you the promise with all my heart. Gautier de Brusac. dear. the Bastard of Orleans. and said: "You must watch over him. just as he pictures it. Ah. with the welcoming cannon thundering and seas of welcoming flags fluttering in the breeze. We left on the 6th and stopped over at Romorantin. clothed in shining splendors of costume and decorations: the Duke d'Alencon. you shall have him back without a hurt. the Sire de Boussac. but may have a part in the battles!" She made him that promise when she was taking leave of my lady the Duchess d'Alencon. and stroked her hair lovingly. But Joan had made him a promise. I will not let you go till you promise. I require it of you. and so they parted. That young count was dying to go. the usual shoutings and packed multitudes. she was so beautiful. and more and longer. and I saw it. too. Master of the Crossbowmen. yet was not thought of for that office. it is a promise. Etienne de Vignoles. Marshal of France. Do you believe? And are you satisfied with me now?" The duchess could not speak. It was grand times. and I saw old Boucher and the wife and that dear Catherine gather Joan to their hearts and smother her with kisses—and my heart ached for her so! for I could have kissed Catherine better than anybody. but the King held him back for the present. the dainty plumed cap. and other illustrious captains. I see it just as if it were yesterday. and send him back to me safe. The duchess was exacting a promise. The Grand Staff rode with her. too. Admiral of France. but she kissed Joan on the forehead. And I see it yet—the little battle-ax. the Lord de Granville. the Sire de Culan. I have carried her image in my heart for sixty-three 190 . then on the 9th Joan entered Orleans in state. called La Hire. the usual crush to get sight of Joan.

years—all lonely thee. so old. oh. it is as fresh and young and merry and mischievous and lovely and sweet and pure and witching and divine as it was when it crept in there. bringing benediction and peace to its habitation so long ago. but it. for it never has had company—and I am grown so old. yes. solitary. so long ago—for it has not aged a day! 191 .

was formidably strong. the first point of attack. the Admiral of France. with seven thousand picked English veterans behind 192 . De Brusac argued that the situation was very grave. and all the other really important chiefs.Chapter 26 The Last Doubts Scattered THIS TIME. I not being given to beguiling you with lies. That was a change! That was new! It broke the traditions. but I was there. It shows you what sort of a reputation as a commander-in-chief the child had made for herself in ten days in the field. during the 10th. But at the same time there were some among them who still trembled at her new and dashing war tactics and earnestly desired to modify them. Now this discussion is not set down in the histories. and while they waited for Joan to join them they discussed the situation. as knowing you will trust me. Don't you remember that when at sixteen Joan conducted her own case in a grim court of law and won it. while Joan was slaving away at her plans and issuing order after order with tireless industry." And this time the command was obeyed. Gautier de Brusac was spokesman for the timid ones. Joan's side was resolutely upheld by d'Alencon. These veterans were not going to branch out and do things without the sanction of the Maid—that is true. you see. and I will speak of it. La Hire. It was a conquering of men's doubts and suspicions and a capturing and solidifying of men's belief and confidence such as the grayest veteran on the Grand Staff had not been able to achieve in thirty years. the Marshal de Boussac. as before. the King's last command to the generals was this: "See to it that you do nothing without the sanction of the Maid. And so. that Jargeau. its imposing walls bristling with artillery. In the afternoon of that day they came in a body to hold one of these councils of war. the old judge spoke of her as "this marvelous child"? It was the right name. the old-time consultations and arguings and speechifyings were going on among certain of the generals. and would continue to be obeyed all through the coming great days of the Loire campaign. the Bastard. and it was a great gain.

and at their head the great Earl of Suffolk and his two redoubtable brothers. It seemed to him that the proposal of Joan of Arc to try to take such a place by storm was a most rash and over-daring idea. there's a new state of things. those people can't learn that they must strike out a new road—no. The new case is the very opposite. and a surpassing military genius has perceived it with her clear eye. they will march stupidly along and follow the old one. by the Lord God of heaven and earth. distrust of the wisdom of the Commander-in-Chief. no heart. to meet those circumstances. that can improve upon it! The old state of things was defeat. in defiance of the established laws and usages of war. secretly or publicly. she knows her trade. was— But he got no further. and that same clear eye has noted where it must go. and pouring out their indignant displeasure upon any and all that mid hold. Men. but those people are never able to see that they have got to change too. to death and perdition. and she ought to be persuaded to relinquish it in favor of the soberer and safer procedure of investment by regular siege. La Hire gave his plumed helm an impatient toss and burst out with: "By God. wait—starve it out. and said: "There are some that never know how to change. It seemed to him that this fiery and furious new fashion of hurling masses of men against impregnable walls of stone. Would you assault stone walls with such? No—there was but one way with that kind: sit down before a place and wait. If an earthquake come and rip the land to chaos. Circumstances may change. And a new road is required. The man does not live. La Hire took a chance again. if you could. defeat. defeat—and by consequence we had troops with no dash. never has lived. and none can teach it her!" And before he could get out anything more. the De la Poles. never will live. and let it swallow up the foe in the whirlwind of its fires! Nothing shows the splendor and wisdom of her military genius like her instant comprehension of the size of the change 193 . and a half a dozen others. and the Bastard of Orleans. no hope. D'Alencon was on his feet. All that they know is the one beaten track that their fathers and grandfathers have followed and that they themselves have followed in their turn. it is this: men all on fire with pluck and dash and vim and fury and energy—a restrained conflagration! What would you do with it? Hold it down and let it smolder and perish and go out? What would Joan of Arc do with it? Turn it loose. and has marked it out for us. And when they had said their say.them. and that beaten track now lead over precipices and into morasses. all thundering at once.

and romps. and she had gone there in state with the Grand Staff. and we presently forgot that we were soldiers. in brave new armor. La Hire said: "It is settled. there is no need nor any occasion for them." Then a faraway look came into her eyes. and so there was dancing. for the city had given a banquet in her honor. all the while. through a riot of joy-bells and a sparkling Milky Way of illuminations. and her instant perception of the right and only right way to take advantage of it. By and by Joan entered." We had a homelike farewell supper that evening—just the personal staff and the family. With her is no sitting down and starving out. its seven thousand picked veterans? Joan of Arc is to the fore. no dilly-dallying and fooling around. There was not another word said about persuading Joan to change her tactics. and they rose and saluted with their swords. its devastating artillery. sat sentry at Joan's door—the stern 194 . and I think that a picture of her home drifted across the vision of her mind. the laugh that rippled so buoyantly from her lips and made old people feel young again to hear it. and going to sleep. and she asked what their pleasure might be. Dear. And outside. with its battlements and towers.which has come about. he carried them. Yes. And as I passed along to bed there was another one: the big Dwarf. belated odds and ends of the French power gathering for the morrow's tragedy on the grim stage of war. no lazying. The matter concerned Jargeau. carefree laugh. it is storm! storm! storm! and still storm! storm! storm! and forever storm! storm! storm! hunt the enemy to his hole. no. my General. and as one who muses." Joan laughed her pleasant laugh. her merry. After supper some lively young folk whom we knew came in. and you will see. how long ago it was!—and I was young then. then turn her French hurricanes loose and carry him by storm! And that is my sort! Jargeau? What of Jargeau. and by the splendor of God its fate is sealed!" Oh. dear. for she said very gently. There were some who thought we could not take the place. was the measured tramp of marching battalions. and she said to the company: "Have no fears—indeed. "But that I know God guides us and will give us success. and games. I had liefer keep sheep than endure these perils. and screams of laughter—just as extravagant and innocent and noisy a good time as ever I had in my life. They sat talking comfortably enough after that. in those days we had those contrasts side by side. Joan had to miss it. loafing. and only remembered that we were boys and girls and full of animal spirits and long-pent fun. We will strike the English boldly by assault.

as it were—and on his ample shoulder was curled a kitten asleep. 195 .Spirit of War made flesh.

for some reason or other he was not hurrying. Constable of France in earlier days. but she snatched her standard from his failing hand and plunged on through the ruck of flying missiles. and the hoarse bellowing of the guns. the Marshal de Rais. but I think we were not uneasy. In truth. and then for a good time one had turmoil. Louis de Bourbon. and collision and confusion of struggling multitudes. and always at these times one caught sight of that slight figure in white mail which was the center and soul of our hope and trust. that force was not yet in our neighborhood. We had a right to feel a little uneasy. and then the hiding of it all under a rolling firmament of smoke—a firmament through which veiled vacancies appeared for a moment now and then. for they were grandsons of that illustrious fighter Bertrand du Guesclin. and were joined to the Grand Staff. giving fitful dim glimpses of the wild tragedy enacting beyond. The Paladin was struck down at her side wounded. and whenever we saw that. Which was well. and gained a footing and fought hard to keep it. we knew that all was well. cheering her men with encouraging cries. Those two young De Lavals were come now. and the Vidame de Chartres were added also. Joan sent forward a heavy force which hurled itself against the outworks in handsome style. We reached Jargeau and began business at once. Seeing this. for we knew that a force of five thousand men was on its way under Sir John Fastolfe to reinforce Jargeau. He was losing precious time—four days at Etampes. and four more at Janville. Joan raised her battlecry and led a new assault herself under a furious artillery fire. with its back to us and its face to the fight. war being their proper trade. with banners flying and Joan and the Grand Staff in the van of the long column. but it presently began to fall back before a sortie from the city. At last a great 196 . nevertheless.Chapter 27 How Joan Took Jargeau WE MADE a gallant show next day when we filed out through the frowning gates of Orleans. and clash of steel. Sir John was loitering.

They declined again. but she knew it—knew it well. It was a unique and kindly grace which Joan offered that garrison. Yes. and so must be obeyed. Then she burst out with one of those enthusiasms which were always burning in her when battle was imminent. they were ours. in fact—and that was sign sufficient that the faubourgs were ours. and would have been trampled to death by our own horse. but Joan said it was best so. in a time when it was custom and usage to massacre the garrison and the inhabitants of captured cities without pity or compunction—yes. He was unconscious. but that was her way. for night was coming on. that was her loving and merciful nature—she always did her best to save her enemy's life and his soldierly pride when she had the mastery of him. Well. and said: "Work! work! and God will work with us!" Yes.shout went up—a joyous roar of shoutings. But she offered another grace: they might take both their horses and their sidearms—but they must go within the hour. the enemy had been driven back within the walls. those bronzed English veterans were pretty hard-headed folk. Considering the deal of marching and fighting which the men had done that day. And Fastolfe coming with five thousand men! Joan said no. Joan sent a summons to the English. if our bigger Dwarf had not been at hand to bring him out of the melee when he was wounded. There's many a way to win in this world. Nobody knew that she could take that strong place. if the Dwarf had not promptly rescued him 197 . yet she offered that grace—offered it in a time when such a thing was unknown in war. The English asked fifteen days' armistice to consider the proposal in. On the ground which Joan had won we camped. promising that if they surrendered she would allow them to go in peace and take their horses with them. There are neighbors all about you who well remember the unspeakable atrocities which Charles the Bold inflicted upon the men and women and children of Dinant when he took that place some years ago. even to the harmless women and children sometimes. D'Alencon thought the hour rather early. keep on working!" for in war she never knew what indolence was. Then Joan gave command that her army be made ready to move to the assault at nine in the morning. And whoever will take that motto and live by it will likely to succeed. but none of them is worth much without good hard work back out of it. I think we should have lost our big Standard-Bearer that day. one might say that her motto was "Work! stick to it.

And. He recovered. to-morrow it was a cathedral. At eight o'clock all movement ceased. To-morrow it will be a cathedral. I never saw anybody with such an abandoned imagination. and that she applied them by an intuition which could not err. and had had no opportunity to study the complex arts of war? I do not know any way to solve such a baffling riddle as that. sure enough. examining the situation minutely. A mute expectancy reigned. I think these vast powers and capacities were born in her. and nobody minded it. there being no precedent for it. He was prouder of being wounded than a really modest person would be of being killed. who arrived at success otherwise than through able teaching and hard study and some experience. and made the most of his wound. Before he got through with it he was claiming that the enemy had flung a building at him. and went swaggering around in his bandages showing off like an innocent big-child—which was just what he was. galloping here and there and yonder. It is a riddle which will never be guessed.and haled him to the rear and safety. Joan was abroad at the crack of dawn. and with it all sounds. and was himself again after two or three hours. But the stone grew. but greatest of all in her genius for posting and handling artillery. and choosing what she considered the most effective positions for her artillery. But there was no harm in his vanity. "Let him alone. but "with the sure and clear judgment of a trained general of twenty or thirty years' experience. and with such accurate judgment did she place her guns that her Lieutenant-General's admiration of it still survived in his memory when his testimony was taken at the Rehabilitation. and then he was happy and proud. of course. The stillness was something awful—because it meant so much. "Don't interrupt his processes. In this testimony the Duke d'Alencon said that at Jargeau that morning of the 12th of June she made her dispositions not like a novice. The flags on the towers and ramparts hung straight down like tassels. a quarter of a century later." The veteran captains of the armies of France said she was great in war in all ways. all noise. He said he was hit by a stone from a catapult—a stone the size of a man's head. For in history there is no great general. 198 ." He said that privately. however gifted. There was no air stirring. Wherever one saw a person. Who taught the shepherd-girl to do these marvels—she who could not read. nothing in history to compare it with and examine it by." said Noel Rainguesson.

a listening attitude. and so he had stopped and was listening—the hoop was rolling away. clustered around Joan. all standing out with sharp vividness against the deep leaden 199 . and jets of red fire and gushes of white smoke in long rows. motionless in the dead air. turreted gray walls and towers. Even children unconsciously stopped in their play. but he had forgotten everything—his head was turned aside listening. Many people were visible—all were listening. were the lanes and humble dwellings of these outlying suburbs. The great artillery duel went on. Everywhere were these impressive petrified forms. I saw a young girl prettily framed in an open window. the girl was listening. and in their place stood vast banks and pyramids of snowy smoke. Then the spectacle was fine. and streaming bright flags. Presently the artillery concussions changed the weather. The startled girl dropped her watering-pot and clasped her hands together. and it was splendid for smoke and noise. accompanied by answering deep thunders. not one was moving. The poor little town around about us suffered cruelly. The sky became overcast. and we saw answering tongues of fire dart from the towers and walls of the city. and a strong wind rose and blew away the smoke that hid the English fortresses. each side hammering away with all its might. cannon after cannon vomited flames and smoke and delivered its quaking thunders. on every hand. A man had placed a nail. the silence was torn to rags. and in a minute the walls and the towers disappeared. and there was his other hand in the act of striking with the hammer. Fire broke out. and most exalting to one's spirits. a watering-pot in her hand and windowboxes of red flowers under its spout—but the water had ceased to flow. wrecking them as if they had been built of cards. We were on a commanding spot.that person had stopped what he was doing. and every moment or two one would see a huge rock come curving through the upper air above the smoke-clouds and go plunging down through the roofs. he was about to fasten something with it to the door-post of his shop—but he had stopped. At the signal. The cannon-balls tore through its slight buildings. and columns of flame and smoke rose toward the sky. and at that moment a stone cannon-ball crashed through her fair body. I saw a little boy with his hoop-stick pointed slanting toward the ground in the act of steering the hoop around the corner. and was in a waiting attitude. There was his hand reaching up holding the nail. doing its own steering. Not far from us. Joan of Arc raised her sword in the air. and everywhere was suspended movement and that awful stillness.

and straightway she started up the ladder again. The Dwarf stood her upon her feet. are you afraid? Do you not know that I have promised to send you home safe?" It was warm work in the ditches. There was one English gun that was getting our position down finer and finer all the time. she cried out: "Now—to the assault!" and the buglers blew the charge. He always dominated the places easiest of assault. about nine o'clock. There was one gigantic Englishman who did us more hurt than any dozen of his brethren. But Joan said: "Ah. Joan was watching all along for the right time to order the assault. We were soon with them. but a great stone flung from above came crashing down upon her helmet and stretched her. step out of your tracks. and that cannon tore his head off in a moment. to the assault—the English are ours! It is the appointed hour!" 200 . we saw this force descend into the ditch and begin to plant the scaling-ladders." The Duke d'Alencon did as he was bid. Jean le Lorrain. The walls were crowded with men. and then the whizzing missiles began to knock up the dirt all around us. Instantly we saw the body of men that had been appointed to this service move forward toward a point where the concentrated fire of our guns had crumbled the upper half of a broad stretch of wall to ruins. and said: "Train your gun—kill me this demon. Joan raised her inspiring battle-cry and descended into the fosse herself. but Monsieur du Lude rashly took his place.background of the sky. and they poured avalanches of stones down upon us. Seeing this. He hit the Englishman fair in the breast and knocked him backward into the city. friends. But only for a moment. Presently Joan pointed to it and said: "Fair duke. crying: "To the assault. and I felt no more interest in the scenery. The Lieutenant-General thought the assault premature. But the duke settled accounts with him. and flung down exceedingly troublesome big stones which smashed men and ladders both—then he would near burst himself with laughing over what he had done." He did it with the first shot. He went and found the famous cannoneer. wounded and stunned. She started up a scaling-ladder. the Dwarf helping her and the Paladin sticking bravely at her side with the standard. At last. upon the ground. The enemy's resistance was so effective and so stubborn that our people began to show signs of doubt and dismay. gentle duke. or that machine will kill you.

and the Duke d'Alencon and the Bastard of Orleans demanded that he surrender himself. But he was a proud nobleman and came of a proud race. Jargeau was ours! The Earl of Suffolk was hemmed in and surrounded. The garrison fled. From everywhere in the packed streets the new recruits squeezed their way to her side to touch the sword of Joan of Arc. His two brothers retreated. We took them with us and marched into Orleans next day through the usual tempest of welcome and joy. I will surrender to the Maid of Orleans alone. Arrived on the bridge. 201 . a memorable day." Then Sir John knighted him himself there on the bridge. fighting step by step." "And a knight?" "No. a most splendid victory. But he was nearly as proud and particular as his brother of Suffolk as to whom he would surrender to. we pressing their despairing forces and cutting them down by scores. and draw from it somewhat of that mysterious quality which made it invincible." And so he did. but Joan would not allow them to be hurt. we pursued. We had a crowd of prisoners. and was courteously and honorably used by her. who was pressing him closely. yes. John de la Pole decided to give up the struggle. Eleven hundred men had fallen. and we swarmed over the ramparts like ants. and was drowned.There was a grand rush. giving him the accolade with English coolness and tranquillity in the midst of that storm of slaughter and mutilation. and to no other. And this time there was a new tribute to our leader. The French officer nearest at hand was Guillaume Renault. a proud tribe. and a fierce roar of war-cries. and then bowing with high courtesy took the sword by the blade and laid the hilt of it in the man's hand in token of surrender. He refused to yield his sword to subordinates. the slaughter still continued. Ah. saying: "I will die rather. It was a grand day. those De la Poles. Sir John said to him: "Are you a gentleman?" "Yes. toward the bridge. Alexander de la Pole was pushed overboard or fell over.

I want you to promise me that you will let others lead the assaults. are you going to be a soldier always? These wars are so long—so long. and that you will take better care of yourself in those dreadful battles. What is in your mind?" "This. for thinking of the dangers you are running. They last forever and ever and ever. Catherine Boucher came in and sat down and said: "Joan. dear. I scarcely slept last night. then she said: "Joan. Why will you do like that? It seems such a wanton risk. wasn't it?" "Right? Yes. that was right. Joan." "Well. Yes. it was not so. Catherine sat troubled and discontented awhile. The morning of the 14th I was writing from Joan's dictation in a small room which she sometimes used as a private office when she wanted to get away from officials and their interruptions. if there must be assaults. but glad. The rest of it will be gentler—oh. far less bloody." "Indeed. it is tempting Providence." "Oh. I want you to talk to me.Chapter 28 Joan Foretells Her Doom THE TROOPS must have a rest." "How can you say that. She said: "It was horribly dangerous. with those deadly things flying all about you?" Joan laughed. The Paladin told me how you made the duke stand out of the way when the cannon-balls were flying all about. I am not sorry for that. Two days would be allowed for this. Joan. but Catherine persisted. I was not in any danger. but you stayed there yourself. And you led an assault again. and it could not be necessary to stay in such a place. Will you?" But Joan fought away from the promise and did not give it. 202 . no." There was a glad flash in Joan's eye as she cried: "This campaign will do all the really hard work that is in front of it in the next four days. and tried to turn the subject. and so saved his life. I want you to make me a promise.

but hardly audible: "And in a thousand years the English power in France will not rise up from that blow." I had to tell her a lie. 203 ." as if to herself and unconsciously. and so she said. written by Heaven knows who. and we will love you so. in a happy voice: "Oh. in a low voice that had something of awe in it: "Joan. dreamily." "Yes. and say nothing of what had happened. then she gazed long at Joan like one in a trance. She was not conscious now. That is why Catherine did not scream. Soon she started. and looked around and saw me crying there. murmuring "four days—four days. "I know—I know. and jumped out of her chair and ran to me all in a whirl of sympathy and compassion. We sat wondering and still. tell me—how is it that you know that? For you do know it. I picked up an old letter from my table. Finally she asked." It made my flesh creep. I grieved to do it. and said: "My poor boy! What is it? Look up and tell me. as knowing we should lose her. I believe it. she looking at the floor and her lips moving but uttering nothing. shivering slightly." And she was gone. It was uncanny. but there was no other way." She became silent. I think. and came to herself. I shall strike—and strike again. She was in a trance again—I could see it—just as she was that day in the pastures of Domremy when she prophesied about us boys in the war and afterward did not know that she had done it. but Catherine did not know four days France will gather another trophy like the redemption of Orleans and make her second long step toward freedom!" Catherine started (and do did I). She was going to do that—I saw it plainly. and said: "Oh. Then I whispered her to slip out of the place. and put her hand on my head. Catherine whispered back. and I sat down crying. I believe it. This was for a whole minute. And before the fourth day is finished I shall strike yet again. Like prophecy! I knew it was prophecy. I am so grateful that it is only a dream! It sounded like prophecy. and the dreamy voice muttered: "Before two years are sped I shall die a cruel death!" I sprang forward with a warning hand up. and I am so glad! Then you will come back and bide with us all your life long. Then came these words." said Joan. and honor you!" A scarcely perceptible spasm flitted across Joan's face. I said Joan was asleep—asleep and dreaming.

and ejaculating all the time. ugly words—they "had the very look of it. turning it this way and that. and told her I had just gotten it from Pere Fronte. cruel! how could any be so heartless? Ah. "Oh. and that in it it said the children's Fairy Tree had been chopped down by some miscreant or other. poor Arbre Fee de Bourlemont gone—and we children loved it so! Show me the place where it says it!" And I. cruel. and she gazed at them through her tears. She snatched the letter from my hand and searched it up and down and all over. and— I got no further. and sobbing great sobs.about some matter Heaven knows what." Then we heard a strong voice down the corridor announcing: "His majesty's messenger—with despatches for her Excellency the Commander-in-Chief of the Armies of France!" 204 . showed her the pretended fatal words on the pretended fatal page. and the tears flowing down her cheeks. and said she could see herself that they were hateful. still lying.

but I thought so. that was plain. and for a good reason. otherwise she could not have been so joyous and light-hearted as she had been these latter days. no. But when? I could not know. All that miserable night those ancient verses went floating back and forth through my brain: And when. all wanted to banish it away and forget it. I believe. All but me alone. and every day earning a new right to a peaceful and honored old age? For at that time I though old age valuable. the rest of the army marching away 205 . and she so strong and fresh and young. The death-warning had nothing dismal about it for her. but the conviction came upon me now that at that time she had already seen the Tree. it was leave to come home. they being ignorant and full of superstitions. A heavy load. we Shall fainting yearn for glimpse of thee. All young people think it. no doubt. How could I. I must carry my awful secret without any to help me. a bitter burden. We marched to Meung without halting. And all had succeeded. Doubtless before she had lately told the King to use her. and so soon. Yes. she had seen the Tree. rise upon our sight! But at dawn the bugles and the drums burst through the dreamy hush of the morning. She was to die. I do not know why. for that she had but one year left to work in. and left a force to hold it. Oh. and it was turn out all! mount and ride. There we carried the bridge by assault.Chapter 29 Fierce Talbot Reconsiders I KNEW she had seen the wisdom of the Tree. no one wanted to take it to heart. in exile wand'ring. No one had taken the prophecy to heart which she made to the King. and would go on to the end placid and comfortable. She had seen the Tree. it was remission of exile. For there was red work to be done. and would cost me a daily heartbreak. It had brought her a welcome message. I had never dreamed of that. It had not occurred to me at the time.

next morning toward Beaugency. where the lion Talbot. but the foolish King. It is a sufficiently strange thing to find that great quality in an ignorant country-girl of seventeen and a half. Important because they lead up to the exhibition of a new gift in Joan's extraordinary mental make-up—statesmanship. Richemont had wanted to join us before. I go into these details because they are important. He said he had absolute orders from the King to deny and defy Richemont. But Joan set herself the task of persuading him that the salvation of France took precedence of all minor things—even the commands of a sceptered ass. warned him to keep his distance and refused all reconciliation with him. June 17th. was in command. but the Lieutenant-General. She persuaded him to disobey the King in the interest of the nation. the terror of the French. Joan was for receiving Richemont cordially. but distribute the new levies among the English strongholds of the Loire. and to be reconciled to Count Richemont and welcome him. but she had it. largely because of the evil machinations of La Tremouille and his party. indeed. Then the drums beat to arms. strenuously and stubbornly opposed it. slave of those paltry advisers of his. d'Alencon. and we set forth to meet the English. Then some news came: Richemont. Joan placed her batteries and bombarded the castle till night. the scouts reported the approach of Talbot and Fastolfe with Fastolfe's succoring force. look for it in Joan of Arc. for he had gone away to watch for and welcome Fastolfe and his reinforcement of five thousand men. leaving Richemont and his troops behind to watch the castle of Beaugency and keep its garrison at home. was approaching with a large body of men to offer his services to Joan—and very much she needed them. and she accomplished it. and there you will find it. Constable of France. thus securing them against capture. Whatever thing men call great. By and by we came in sight of the enemy. then be 206 . Talbot was not at the moment present in person. This would have been a heavy disaster. the English retired into the castle and we sat down in the abandoned town. and of the highest and soundest sort. and so was La Hire and the two young Lavals and other chiefs. That was statesmanship. When we arrived at that place. In the early morning. this long time in disgrace with the King. Fastolfe had tried to convince Talbot that it would be wisest to retreat and not risk a battle with Joan at this time. now that Fastolfe was so close by. when we first marched on Orleans. and that if they were overridden he would leave the army.

" "Name of God. The enemy had taken up a strong position. And the case will be the same the morrow. Then Pothon asked her why she had declined it. but it cannot be helped. and he swore by God and Saint George that he would have it out with her if he had to fight her all alone. was Fastolfe. as at other times. as to that. She said to the herald: "Go back and say it is too late to meet to-night. But that fierce Talbot would hear of no delay. though he said they were now risking the loss of everything which the English had gained by so many years' work and so many hard knocks. He was in a rage over the punishment which the Maid had inflicted upon him at Orleans and since. and stopping before that old war-tiger she put her small hand above his head and touched one of his plumes. fifteen hundred with the Constable of France keeping the bridge and watching the castle of Beaugency. Night was coming on. But Joan's dignity was not ruffled. Some thought it was a pity that Joan had declined battle. which feather is it that I touch?" "In sooth." Joan was walking up and down just then. The day was far spent. her bearing was not discomposed. Bastard! you cannot tell me this small thing. wise man." The night fell dark and rainy. the Bastard of Orleans. then at the right time fall upon her in resistless mass and annihilate her. She laughed her affectionate. It is good to have much time and the fair light of day when one's force is in a weakened state—nine hundred of us yonder keeping the bridge of Meung under the Marshal de Rais. A messenger came from the English with a rude defiance and an offer of battle. let Joan exhaust her army with fruitless daily skirmishing. About ten o'clock D'Alencon. that I cannot. yet are bold to name a large one—telling us what is in the stomach of the 207 . in order of battle. So Fastolfe yielded. and were waiting. but to-morrow. She said: "There was more than one reason. Excellency. comrady laugh. and sat down to discuss matters with Joan. Wherefore there is no need to take risks. please God and our Lady. These English are ours—they cannot get away from us. and two or three other generals came to our headquarters tent." Dunois said: "I grieve for this decision. some thought not. saying: "Now tell me. It was that sort of light steady rain which falls so softly and brings to one's spirit such serenity and peace. we will come to close quarters. La Hire. He was a wise old experienced general. Bastard. with their archers to the front and a stockade before them.patient and wait—wait for more levies from Paris. Pothon of Saintrailles. Excellency.

One was that we being weak and the day far gone. Then she said: "It will be the most noble and beneficent victory that God has vouchsafed for France at any time. and amen.unborn morrow: that we shall not have those men. but there is no other course if he would avoid this battle. according to the saying of your Excellency?" "Yes. to escape our hands if it can. And it shall be. "It has that look. but that was interrupted by a messenger from the outposts who brought news—namely. We will see to that." She hesitated a moment. But he shall not get the bridge. They had just come back and reported that large bodies of men had been dimly made out who were slipping stealthily away in the direction of Meung. He thinks to take the bridge of Meung and escape to the other side of the river. Now it is my thought that they will be with us. "It certainly has. that for an hour there had been stir and movement in the English camp of a sort unusual at such a time and with a resting army. I pray you question me not as to whence or how I know this thing." responded Joan. Spies had been sent under cover of the rain and darkness to inquire into it. It will happen." 208 ." "Yes. The generals were very much surprised." said D'Alencon. but be content that it is so. and that he also knows. but she put up her hand and prevented them. then said: "This was not the day. To-morrow is the day." said Joan. A murmur of conversation broke out." said Louis de Bourbon. as any might tell from their faces. "but one can divine the purpose of it. "It is a retreat. and conviction and high confidence. If she thinks it." They were going to assail her with eager questionings. that is enough." "God grant it. he said. But La Hire took the word and said: "Let be. All wanted to know why she thought that." Then Pothon of Santrailles said: "There were other reasons for declining battle. He knows that this leaves his garrison of Beaugency at the mercy of fortune. It is so written." There was pleasure in every face. There were still other reasons?" "One other—yes." That made a stir. When it is fought it must be decisive. the battle might not be decisive." observed the Bastard and La Hire. "It was not to be expected. "Talbot has reflected. His rash brain has cooled.

and see to it that you avoid an engagement." "By the mass. Her guard mounted and we rode off through the puttering rain. taking with us a captured English officer to confirm Joan's news. and take care of that matter. to tell Talbot of the surrender. and be stronger for our great day's work by four-and-twenty hundred able soldiers. I will ride under guard to Beaugency and make so quick work there that Ii and the Constable of France will join you before dawn with his men. We soon covered the journey and summoned the castle. They could go whither they pleased. along with our Beaugency watchers. and at no cost of blood. And I will be with you at Meung with the dawn. Richard Guetin. "we must follow him. Then we shall have our bridge force with us again. What of Beaugency?" "Leave Beaugency to me. At one o'clock the advance-guard will march. as was here promised within the hour. Excellency—give us orders!" "They are simple. Talbot had held it wisdom to turn now and 209 . Before dawn we were with our army again. and carry away property to the value of a silver mark per man. I will have it in two hours. Excellency. His garrison could keep their horses and arms. and knew that Talbot was beginning his attack on the bridge. Keep well in the rear of the enemy. but must not take arms against France again under ten days. He could not expect easy terms. Guetin had sent a messenger through our lines under a safe-conduct given by Joan. conceded that it would be useless to try to hold out. the second division will follow at two under the Lieutenant-General. Orders. We heard the dull booming of cannon to the front. Verily this Englishman is doing our errands for us and saving us much blood and trouble. yes!" cried La Hire." She kept her word."Yes." "Yes. for we left only a small garrison in Beaugency castle. with Pothon of Saintrailles as second. Of course this poursuivant had arrived ahead of us. fetching the Constable and his fifteen hundred. Let the men rest three hours longer." said D'Alencon. Talbot's lieutenant. gentle duke." "It is true. and when Talbot knows that Beaugency has fallen it will have an effect upon him. You will but need to deliver this news there and receive the surrender. under our command. yet Joan granted them nevertheless. But some time before it was yet light the sound ceased and we heard it no more. "He will join his Meung garrison to his army and break for Paris. and with us the Constable and nearly all his men. being convinced that he and his five hundred men were left helpless.

210 . and with him Lord Scales and the garrison of Meung. What a harvest of English strongholds we had reaped in those three days!—strongholds which had defied France with quite cool confidence and plenty of it until we came.retreat upon Paris. When daylight came he had disappeared.

The enemy had plunged into the wide plains of La Beauce—a roadless waste covered with bushes. it had wrought damage to a nation which loved it well. It was the English soldiery. as Joan had said in her trance. 211 . as I have said. I knew we should find him. Now at this time our reconnaissance. frightened a deer. it was about a league away. and it went bounding away and was out of sight in a moment. Therefore Joan sent bodies of cavalry ahead under La Hire. no panic. But we had to be cautious. But that did not trouble me. feeling its way in the bush. strike him the promised blow—the one from which the English power in France would not rise up in a thousand years. In such a piece of country we could walk into an ambush without any trouble. no confusion. They shall not escape us. Joan divined their state of mind and cried out impetuously: "Name of God. Then hardly a minute later a dull great shout went up in the distance toward Patay. and other captains. We found the trail in the soft wet earth and followed it. It indicated an orderly march. this sort of hideand-go-seek business troubled them and made their confidence a little shaky. Poor creature.Chapter 30 The Red Field of Patay WHEN THE morning broke at last on that forever memorable 18th of June. and that we should strike him. to feel the way. Pothon. Some of the other officers began to show uneasiness. Though they were hung to the clouds we would get them!" By and by we were nearing Patay. For the French knew where the English were now. They had been shut up in a garrison so long on moldy food that they could not keep their delight to themselves when this fine fresh meat came springing into their midst. whereas the English had no suspicion of where the French were. with here and there bodies of forest trees—a region where an army would be hidden from view in a very little while. and we will. what would you? We must smite these English. thee was no enemy discoverable anywhere.

measuring. Satan and his Hellions.La Hire halted where he was. calculating—by shades. and five hundred picked archers along some hedges where the French would be obliged to pass. receding. master of herself—master of herself and of the situation. and sent back the tidings. They will fly. but Joan said: "Not yet—wait. then his artillery. Suddenly these conceived the idea that it 212 . Forward—close up!" By the time we had come up with La Hire the English had discovered our presence. Sir John Fastolfe urged the battle-corps into a gallop. calculating. shall we fight them?" "Have you good spurs. First his advance-guard. And now he was closing up—closing up on Fastolfe's rushing corps. But she was ready—gazing straight before her. He at once posted his artillery. and set of head. It lifted the duke and the Bastard in their saddles to see it. weighing. fractions of minutes. seconds—with all her great soul present. And yonder. we have found them. Who overtakes them will need good spurs. plumes lifting and falling. Joan was radiant with joy. minutes. Joan saw her opportunity and ordered La Hire to advance—which La Hire promptly did. streamed the thundering charge of La Hire's godless crew. and noble pose of body—but patient. The duke and the Bastard wanted to follow. to Joan. steady." Fastolfe's hard-driven battle-corps raged on like an avalanche toward the waiting advance-guard. his customary fashion. then his battle-corps a good way in the rear." So they waited—impatiently. trembling with excitement. La Hire's great figure dominating it and his sword stretched aloft like a flagstaff. Talbot's force was marching in three bodies. The Duke d'Alencon said to her: "Very well. launching his wild riders like a storm-wind. in eye. and said again: "Wait—not yet. lifting and falling. And now he struck it—struck it hard. see them go!" Somebody muttered it in deep admiration. saying: "Now!" But she put up her hand. and they turned. and broke its order. prince?" "Why? Will they make us run away?" "Nenni. and hoped to hold this position till his battle-corps could come up. He was now out of the bush and in a fair open country. and fidgeting in their saddles. weighing. "Oh. receding. his advance-guard. en nom de Dieu! These English are ours—they are lost. still gazing.

and for three long hours we cut and hacked and stabbed. and she said: "Oh. smiling. (1) (1) Lord Ronald Gower (Joan of Arc. It was a part of the testimony of the author of these "Personal Recollections of Joan of 213 . our men had mortally wounded an English prisoner who was too poor to pay a ransom. 82) says: "Michelet discovered this story in the deposition of Joan of Arc's page. Joan drove her spurs home and waved the advance with her sword. stood at the salute with her sword. and the womanly tears running down her face all the time. and had galloped to the place and sent for a priest.was flying in panic before Joan." Then battalion after battalion of our victorious army swung by. he muttering as he went." This is true. and stood surveying that awful field. just as his sister might have done. Toward the end of the day I came upon her where the dead and dying lay stretched all about in heaps and winrows. and so in that instant it broke and swarmed away in a mad panic itself. but for Joan of Arc!" said La Hire. friends. p. and easing him to his death with comforting soft words. then she turned toward her grouped generals. said. who was probably an eye-witness of the scene." She stood again a time thinking. lost in thought. live forever!" while Joan. "Live forever. Maid of Orleans. and from a distance she had seen that cruel thing done. And they shouted. "Follow me!" she cried. Presently she said: "The praise is to God. do you know?—do you comprehend? France is on the way to be free!" "And had never been. with the manner of one who is thinking aloud. At last the bugles sang "Halt!" The Battle of Patay was won. He has smitten with a heavy hand this day. and looking afar off." After a little she lifted her face. with Talbot storming and cursing after it. Now was the golden time. friends. Louis de Conte. the other following and doing likewise. Joan of Arc dismounted. passing before her and bowing low. and bent her head to her horse's neck and sped away like the wind! We went down into the confusion of that flying rout. "In a thousand years—a thousand years—the English power in France will not rise up from this blow. and now she was holding the head of her dying enemy in her lap. This was not the last time I saw the Maid of Orleans on the red field of Patay. wildly cheering. "I will say it though I be damned for it. and there was a glory in her face and a noble light in her eye.

214 .Arc." given by him in the Rehabilitation proceedings of 1456. —TRANSLATOR.

There it stands. for you are French. That nation is France. and stand uncovered in the presence of—what? A monument with its head in the clouds? Yes. a weary tale of wasting conflicts stretching over years. Convalescent. and it is the stateliest fact in the long annals of your country. Yes. and there was none to deny it. So judged. a procession of battles. three hours later. For all nations in all times have built monuments on their battle-fields to keep green the memory of the perishable deed that was wrought there and of the perishable name 215 . she was convalescent. The war called the Hundred Years' War was very sick to-day. Judged by results. it is even possible that Patay has no peer among that few just mentioned. Many death-sick nations have reached convalescence through a series of battles. Shall we judge battles by the numbers killed and the ruin wrought? Or shall we not rather judge them by the results which flowed from them? Any one will say that a battle is only truly great or small according to its results. The dullest physician of them all could see this. Patay's place is with the few supremely great and imposing battles that have been fought since the peoples of the world first resorted to arms for the settlement of their quarrels. but stand alone. when it ended. Sick on its English side—for the very first time since its birth. with its head in the clouds! And when you grow up you will go on pilgrimage to the field of Patay. her case wholly hopeless in the view of all political physicians. and that battle Patay.Chapter 31 France Begins to Live Again JOAN HAD said true: France was on the way to be free. For when it began France lay gasping out the remnant of an exhausted life. Remember it and be proud of it. ninety-one years gone by. and nothing requisite but time and ordinary nursing to bring her back to perfect health. but only one has reached it in a single day and by a single battle. any one will grant that. for it is the truth. as the supremest of historic conflicts.

saw France struck down again. and at last again she went down under another devastating blow—Poitiers. and in time these children married in their turn. the other half belonged to nobody—in three months would be flying the English flag. Now came the ignorant country-maid out of her remote village and confronted this hoary war. The half of it belonged to England. The dead of that war make a mournful long list—an interminable list. Children were born. their children in turn grew up. year after year. But she rose and struggled on. Seven weeks—with her and there a little bloodshed. died—the war raged on. 216 . and will France neglect Patay and Joan of Arc? Not for long. Yes. this time under the incredible disaster of Agincourt—and still the war raged on. and at last England stretched France prone with that fearful blow at Crecy. At Orleans she struck it a staggering blow. It raged on and on. Of men slain in the field the count goes by tens of thousands. a desolation. growing. She gathered her crippled strength once more. In seven weeks she hopelessly crippled that gigantic war that was ninety-one years old. decade after decade. Poitiers. year after year. Then began the briefest and most amazing campaign that is recorded in history. France was a wreck. But let us look back a little. and still on. on the field of Patay she broke its back. that is another matter. the French King was making ready to throw away his crown and flee beyond the seas. grew up. their children. one can do that. and the war raged on. married. married. of innocent women and children slain by bitter hardship and hunger it goes by that appalling term. and Agincourt—near a hundred thousand Frenchmen fell. died—the war raged on. millions. but understand it? Ah. year after year and year after year. and consider certain strange and impressive facts. with none to dispute or deny the truth. In seven weeks it was finished. Think of it. at Patay. year after year. Perhaps the most of it. a ruin. And will she build a monument scaled to their rank as compared with the world's other fields and heroes? Perhaps—if there be room for it under the arch of the sky. The Hundred Years' War began in 1337.of him who wrought it. in any single fight. It is said and believed that in three battles alone—Crecy. without counting the thousand other fights of that long war. this all-consuming conflagration that had swept the land for three generations. where the English began six thousand strong and left two thousand dead upon the field. none will ever be able to comprehend that stupefying marvel. and on.

that war.It was an ogre. And with her little hand that child of seventeen struck him down. crunching men and dripping blood from its jaws. an ogre that went about for near a hundred years. 217 . and yonder he lies stretched on the field of Patay. and will not get up any more while this old world lasts.

buried in a black gloom which these beneficent tidings were sweeping away now before the onrush of their white splendor. but one thing is sure. When we reached Orleans that tow was as much as fifty times insaner with joy than we had ever seen it before—which is saying much. and so on and so on without resting the word traveled. indeed. at what hour soever. to Saint Simon. and the other English fortress. there was never anything like it. The news beat the flying enemy to Yeuville. When that came along and the people 218 . and the town rose against its English masters and shut the gates against their brethren. and nevermore ceased: "Welcome to Joan of Arc—way for the SAVIOR OF FRANCE!" And there was another cry: "Crecy is avenged! Poitiers is avenged! Agincourt is avenged!—Patay shall live forever!" Mad? Why. and. and to this. I do not know as to that. The prisoners were in the center of the column. that. you may say that France had lain in an eclipse this long time. the thundering of cannon. and that neighbor flew with it to the next homestead. A detachment of our army occupied Meung and pillaged it. he jumped out of his bed and bore the blessed message along. yes. Night had just fallen. and as to the noise—the hoarse cheering of the multitude. you never could imagine it in the world. and when a man got it in the night.Chapter 32 The Joyous News Flies Fast THE GREAT news of Patay was carried over the whole of France in twenty hours. anyway: the moment a man got it he flew shouting and glorifying God and told his neighbor. and the illuminations were on so wonderful a scale that we seemed to plow through seas of fire. people said. the clash of bells—indeed. and straightway the garrison applied the torch and took to the fields and the woods. It flew to Mont Pipeau. And the joy that went with it was like the light that flows across the land when an eclipse is receding from the face of the sun. And everywhere rose a new cry that burst upon us like a storm when the column entered the gates.

you may imagine what the uproar was like if you can.caught sight of their masterful old enemy Talbot. They were so glad to see him that presently they wanted to have him out and hang him. They made a striking pair. for I can not describe it. so Joan had him brought up to the front to ride in her protection. that had made them dance so long to his grim war-music. 219 .

from the beginning of the journey to the end of it. 4. In brains. She invited the King. and thence to the gates of Paris. Was it 220 . No one else could have accomplished it. We shall come to the Bloodless March presently (and the Coronation). and in statesmanship the Constable Richemont was the ablest man in France. in scientific warfare. 5. Joan made thoroughly secure the successful completion of the great work which she had begun. The Bloodless March. The Coronation of the King. Master and serf were visiting together at the master's castle of Sully-sur-Loire. ORLEANS was in a delirium of felicity. She took Richemont to Sully-sur-Loire and made her promise good. The Raising of the Siege. and without shedding a drop of blood—perhaps the most extraordinary campaign in this regard in history—this is the most glorious of her military exploits. At Beaugency Joan had engaged to bring about a reconciliation between the Constable Richemont and the King. His loyalty was sincere.Chapter 33 Joan's Five Great Deeds YES. He was simply a serf at that time. capturing every English town and fortress that barred the road. It was the victorious long march which Joan made through the enemy's country from Gien to Rheims. and made sumptuous preparations to receive him. his probity was above suspicion—(and it made him sufficiently conspicuous in that trivial and conscienceless Court). In restoring Richemont to France. no one else of high consequence had any disposition to try. The Reconciliation was one of Joan's most important achievements. and this by the mere force of her name. 2. and. The Victory of Patay. 3. and La Tremouille was his master. She had never seen Richemont until he came to her with his little army. The Reconciliation at Sully-sur-Loire. The great deeds of Joan of Arc are five: 1. in fact. but—he didn't come.

Yes. As a masterpiece of diplomacy. where can you find its superior in our history? Did the King suspect its vast importance? No. they equalized each other. and climbing scaling-ladders under a furious fire with a pluck that would have satisfied even Joan of Arc. being ignorant of its value. In such regions wise and careful work was necessary. Bedford could get it without an effort. for it would require wise statesmanship and long and patient though desultory hammering of the enemy. Joan of Arc—and she had known it from the beginning as an essential detail of her mission. Of all the wise people in high office in France. Nothing of an extraordinary sort was still to be done. Consider the Coronation. Did his ministers? No. the English would disappear from France. Under the influence of Richemont the King became at a later time a man—a man. Now and then. a king. there would be a little fighting to do. 221 . even from regions where the people had been under their mastership for three hundred years. and little by little. And that happened.not wonderful that at a glance she should know him for the one man who could finish and perfect her work and establish it in perpetuity? How was it that that child was able to do this? It was because she had the "seeing eye. yet the remaining work could not safely be left to the King's idiots. taken as a whole. and with progressive certainty. the King could get it by a bold stroke. and men who have been ruled in that way are not always anxious for a change. and a handy man could carry that on with small disturbance to the rest of the country." as one of our knights had once said. To leave out one of them would defeat the journey. but. Which of Joan's five chief deeds shall we call the chiefest? It is my thought that each in its turn was that. a brave and capable and determined soldier. she had that great gift—almost the highest and rarest that has been granted to man. only one knew the priceless worth of this neglected prize—the untaught child of seventeen. and neither was then greater than its mate. Do you perceive? Each was a stage in an ascent. to achieve one of them at the wrong time and in the wrong place would have the same effect. In time he and Richemont cleared away all the English. Did the astute Bedford. fighting in fortress ditches up to his waist in water. for a quarter of a century yet. neither of them put forth his hand. Within six years after Patay he was leading storming parties himself. An advantage of incalculable importance was here under the eyes of the King and of Bedford. This is saying that. representative of the English crown? No. for the English rule had been fair and kindly.

consider this fact. and it is forever sacred and secure. the doubt is annihilated. It is a strange attitude. was no King until he was crowned. then. another may be appointed to his place. That tells the whole story. let it cost what it may. the priest and the parish are his loyal subjects straightway. and that when that support is removed nothing in this world can save it. formless. and while he lives they will recognize no king but him. What is the King. those others moved in a loftier sphere and knew nothing much about them. and nothing else until after the Coronation. and to his subjects the nation. Now." he was no King but only Dauphin before his crowning. if the parish priest withdraws his support and deny his authority? Merely a shadow and no King. let him resign. The dull parish knows all this. an uncrowned king is a similitude of a person who has been named for holy orders but has not been consecrated. Whatever the parish priest believes his flock believes. the heir. for at bottom we know that the throne which the people support stands. an uncrowned king is a doubtful king. whatsoever is anointed of God bears an office whose authority can no longer be disputed or assailed. It shows you as in a mirror—for Joan was a mirror in which the lowly hosts of France were clearly reflected—that to all that vast underlying force called "the people. Add these facts thoughtfully together. To Joan of Arc. their dauntless protector. that is to say. it was a mistake. their comforter in sorrow. their helper in their day of need. 222 . he has their whole confidence. nothing can undo it. with a blind and affectionate obedience. they love him. Do you get that idea? Then let us proceed. to her he was only the Dauphin. the peasant-girl. nothing can remove it. To priest and parish. To the parish priest. and what is the sum? This: The parish priest governs the nation. that they will do. inert mass. Charles VII. She was of the people and knew the people. but if God appoint him and His servant the Bishop anoint him. In a word. what he tells them to do. If I have ever made her call him King. that mighty underlying force which we call "the people"—an epithet which carries contempt with it. they revere him. A priest is consecrated to his office by the awful hand of God. he has not been ordained. Neither the Pope nor any other power can strip the priest of his office.How did she know it? It was simple: she was a peasant. God gave it. That consecration is final. then. and was indisputably and irrevocably King after it. laid upon him by his appointed representative on earth. he is their unfailing friend. and observe its importance. he has no office. she called him the Dauphin. We make little account of that vague.

Joan moves to Orleans and Patay—check.Now you understand what a colossal move on the political chessboard the Coronation was. and it as great and effective because it was made in its proper order and not out of it. Then moves the Reconciliation—but does not proclaim check. the Bloodless March—check. 5. at the time made. as played: 1. but what good could that do? None in the world. it being a move for position. Each. 2. Joan's great acts may be likened to that game. Each move was made in its proper order. 3. Final move (after her death). and to take effect later. and tried to patch up his mistake by crowning his King. Bedford realized this by and by. but the final result made them all recognizable as equally essential and equally important. Speaking of chess. the reconciled Constable Richemont to the French King's elbow—checkmate. Next. This is the game. 4. seemed the greatest move. 223 . Next she moves the Coronation—check.

The city provisioned the army. Saint-Florentin opened its gates to the King. she was so sure it would not be necessary. on his other side was the Duke d'Alencon. so to speak. We rested three days before Auxerre. We marched from Gien twelve thousand strong. in the pastures of Domremy. There was no sufficient reason now why the Coronation should not take place. for we remembered how seven years before. After these followed the Bastard of Orleans. Tremouille. but we did not enter the place. and never stir from the hearthstone and happiness any more. On the 4th of July we reached Saint-Fal. After the duke followed three other princes of the blood. After these came La Hire. The King was afraid to start to Rheims. That was her dream.Chapter 34 The Jests of the Burgundians THE CAMPAIGN of the Loire had as good as opened the road to Rheims. As it turned out. and a deputation waited upon the King. because the road was mile-posted with English fortresses. the march to Rheims was nothing but a holiday excursion: Joan did not even take any artillery along. and a long procession of knights and nobles. and she could not rest. the Marshal de Boussac. when I found that faith wavering I encouraged it to waver all the more. She became so possessed with this matter that I began to lose faith in her two prophecies of her early death—and. and the Admiral of France. Joan held them in light esteem and not things to be afraid of in the existing modified condition of English confidence. and would fly home to her mother and her sheep. the Sunflower came with his black flag and brought us the shameful news of 224 . And she was right. The Maid rode by the side of the King. she was so impatient to see it fulfilled. The Coronation would complete the mission which Joan had received from heaven. This was the 29th of June. Saintrailles. and yonder lay Troyes before us—a town which had a burning interest for us boys. of course. and then she would be forever done with war.

He was afraid to go on. to your work! We assault at dawn!" She worked hard that night. and Troyes surrendered without firing a shot. and hoped there would be a misunderstanding here. seeing that she had no artillery. She said.the Treaty of Troyes—that treaty which gave France to England. and in this rough labor she took a man's share. And a goodly army it was now. and was expecting reinforcements from Paris. of course. scoffed at the idea. She ordered fascines and fagots to be prepared and thrown into the fosse. we will enter the gates tomorrow!" Then she mounted. yet we flushed hot with that old memory. man. Five days we consulted and negotiated. thereby to bridge it." "Six days. slaving away with her own hands like a common soldier. and rode her lines. and it is my mind that it is her judgment that should be followed here. At that moment a flag of truce was flung to the breeze from the walls." The smug Chancellor put in a word now: "If we were sure of it we would wait her six days. and not that of any other. without any tone of doubt or question in her voice: "In three days' time the place is ours. Its commandant. leaving this strong place in his rear. Before night we camped before its gates and made rough work with a sortie which marched out against us. and sent her a grossly insulting reply. forsooth! Name of God. crying out: "Make preparation—to your work. for we dearly wanted to storm the place and burn it. with a slap in it for some of his Majesty's advisers: "The Maid of Orleans undertook this expedition of her own motion. So the King sent for the Maid. Joan summoned Troyes to surrender. No result. The next day the King with Joan at his side and the Paladin bearing her banner entered the town in state at the head of the army. That poor town was not to blame. friends. and asked her how she thought the prospect looked. let him be of whatsoever breed and standing he may. It was powerfully garrisoned by English and Burgundian soldiery. and a daughter of our royal line in marriage to the Butcher of Agincourt. for it had been growing ever bigger and bigger from the first. At dawn she took her place at the head of the storming force and the bugles blew the assault. 225 . The King was about to turn back now and give up." There was wisdom and righteousness in that. Then La Hire put in a word.

And now a curious thing happened. here were these poor Frenchmen being carried off. Well. This was well. They had been over-abundant for a century. and would take his prisoner with him. stood him up. and he saw that he was mistaken about going—he couldn't do it. But we blocked him off. you see. as a rule. Since I may not convey him hence. What could a body say? what could a body do? For certainly these people were within their right. but presently killed him to save the cost of his keep. but we did what we could. this property of mine. for otherwise how would they buy the wherewithal to live? Very well. what do you think? Every rascal of them had a French prisoner on his back! They were carrying away their "goods. the footsoldiers in the lead. then. whereas it was a different matter with French prisoners. all bound and helpless. When we took Troyes a calf was worth thirty francs. to see the march-out. When they were come nearer. It was the war. By the terms of the treaty made with the town the garrison of English and Burgundian soldiery were to be allowed to carry away their "goods" with them. along with the Dwarf. This shows you how small was the value of such a possession in those times. He exploded into the maddest cursings and revilings. he would go. and we said among ourselves. truly these folk are well off for poor common soldiers. and we and the French guards halted the procession for a parley—to gain time. My dears. you see. Presently here they came in an interminable file. none will dispute it." you see—their property—strictly according to the permission granted by the treaty. It was an enormous price for those other animals—a price which naturally seems incredible to you. a sheep sixteen. What could we do? Very little of a permanent sort. and said to us with a light of sarcasting triumph in his eye: "I may not carry him away. nobody could deny that. Now think how clever that was. and at the time set for them to depart we young fellows went to that gate. These prisoners were property. unlashing his prisoner from his back. A big Burgundian lost his temper and swore a great oath that none should stop him. how ingenious. conceive of the richness of that booty! For English prisoners had been scarce and precious for a hundred years. if those had been English captives. and. these people were all to go out by the one gate. a French prisoner eight. It worked two ways: it made meat dear and prisoners cheap. there is 226 . We sent a messenger flying to Joan. you say—yet he is mine. then drew his knife. The possessor of a French prisoner did not hold him long for ransom. As they approached one could see that each bore a burden of a bulk and weight to sorely tax his strength.

and laugh at it. and was going on to say how she out of her good heart would prize and praise this compassionate deed which he was about to— It was as far as he got. but the Dwarf. laughing. his face all livid. "You have insulted the Maid. I can kill him. You smile." he said. The color deepened in his face and became an opaque purple. We struck the bonds from the prisoner and told him he was free. none was surprised. if I may toy a little. and volleying forth indecencies and bestialities like a drunken fiend. The Burgundian's eyes began to protrude from their sockets and stare with a leaden dullness at vacancy. That stung. every muscle relaxed its tension and ceased from its function. all of goodly and gentle tenor. his body collapsed with a shiver. It was a thing to be expected. and fairly earned. We sprang forward. The tongue that does that earns a long furlough. Still. not even the dullest among you will question that right. jeering. I have indeed a gift in that sort. then spoke. He flew at that dead corpse and kicked it. I grant you. young sirs. for when a matter requiring permission is to the fore.another way. His crawling humbleness changed to frantic joy in a moment. brushed us aside and said. Then the Dwarf said: "Prithee." And saying this he suddenly shot his right hand out and gripped the great Burgundian by the throat. We could only beg and plead for the prisoner. And the Burgundian enjoyed it. Am not I her guard of honor? This is my affair. His hands hung down limp. let me beguile him. "and the Maid is France. The Burgundian burst into his smooth oration with an insult leveled at Joan of Arc. and said he had a wife and little children at home. He stayed his hand to hear more of it. and his ghastly fear to a childish rage. Ah. and another Burgundian promptly slipped a knife through 227 . as any will tell you that know me well. Which we did. But what could we do? The Burgundian was within his right. soldiering makes few saints. just a little—" saying which he stepped to the Burgundian and began a fair soft speech. and that is punishment for my vanity. Yes. But presently in his mad caperings the freed man capered within reach of the waiting file. you had not thought of that—vermin!" That poor starved fellow begged us with his piteous eyes to save him. danced upon it." One heard the muffled cracking of bones. in a most grave and earnest way: "I crave your patience. cursing. Many of the onlookers laughed. Think how it wrung our heartstrings. and in the midst he mentioned the Maid. others were indifferent. and so held him upright on his feet. spat in its face. The Dwarf took away his hand and the column of inert mortality sank mushily to the ground. crammed mud into its mouth.

It was a careless word to put in the treaty. She considered the claim of the garrison. every one. anyway. And now came Joan hurrying. Then she rode back eagerly and required that thing of the King. But ye may not take these poor men away. and deeply troubled. his brilliant artery blood spurting ten feet as straight and bright as a ray of light. and she rode straight back and bought the captives free in his name and let them go. then said: "You have right upon your side. that that would cost you very dear. 228 . There was a great burst of jolly laughter all around from friend and foe alike. They are French. So the King told her to have her way. for I tell you. and down he went with a death-shriek. and covers too much. I who speak. and would listen to no paltering and no excuses. It is plain. The prisoners were safe for one while. Wait till I send you word from him. and hurt no hair of their heads. and thus closed one of the pleasantest incidents of my checkered military life. and I will not have it.his neck." That settled it. The King shall ransom them.

and saw the great cathedraled towers of Rheims rise out of the distance! Huzza after huzza swept the army from van to rear. of citizens and countryfolk. Truly. hurrahing. there where she sat her horse gazing. And all night long Rheims was hard at work. kept on marching. building triumphal arches and clothing the ancient cathedral within and without in a glory of opulent splendors. We were aware that the garrison of English and Burgundian soldiers had given up all thought of resisting the Maid. and flowed over the camp. man is a pitiful animal. we came in sight of our goal. and at last. with banners and music. Joan. oh. clothed all in white armor. beautiful. being asked if she had no fears for the future. To-morrow she could say. one—treachery. and in her face a deep. a joy not of earth. she was a spirit! Her sublime mission was closing—closing in flawless triumph. And now we marched again. and the hurry and rush and turmoil of the grand preparations began. and that we should find the gates standing hospitably open and the whole city ready to welcome us with enthusiasm. and there by Chalons in a talk. on the 16th of July. We moved betimes in the morning. decorating the town. We marched. She made him Bailiff of Troyes now by the King's permission. said yes. in whose castle Joan was guest when she tarried at Chinon in those first days of her coming out of her own country." We camped. Chalons surrendered to us. hammering away. Who would believe it? who could dream it? And yet in a sense it was prophecy. dreamy. in. The Archbishop and a great deputation arrived. deep joy. everybody drunk with happiness. marched. crowd after crowd.Chapter 35 The Heir of France is Crowned IT WAS here hat we saw again the Grand Master of the King's Household. one rejoicing inundation after another. and as for Joan of Arc. she was not flesh. and after these came flock after flock. "It is finished—let me go free. the coronation ceremonies would begin at nine and last five hours. 229 .

for every peasant girl and woman in it had a white jacket on her body and a crimson skirt on the rest 230 . That one sound was all that visited the ear in the summer stillness—just that one sound—the muffled tread of the marching host. They stretched right down through it. heads up and eyes flashing. but now there was nothing of that. and we galloped off and took position at the head of the army. for she was not expecting to ever be a soldier again. which was the Archbishop's country palace. As the serried masses drifted by. in military salute. the men put their right hands up to their temples. one could have closed his eyes and imagined himself in a world of the dead. turning their eyes upon Joan's face in mute God-bless-you and farewell. the battalions had gone swinging by in a storm of cheers. but this one was a thing to break it. the bands braying paens of victory. a broad belt of bright colors on each side of the road." "Savior of France. took post for a final review and a good-by. its pride. its darling. And so one saw a new thing now. palms to the front. Every time Joan put her handkerchief to her eyes you could see a little quiver of emotion crinkle along the faces of the files. Joan. in the march-past.It was a delicious morning. The army was in great form. call her "Daughter of God. or ever serve with these or any other soldiers any more after this day. and fine to see. with the Lieutenant-General and the personal staff grouped about her. and stretched away on the final march of the peaceful Coronation Campaign. and keeping them there while they could." "The Page of Christ. brilliant with sunshine. The army knew this. By this time the country-people were arriving in multitudes from every direction and massing themselves on both sides of the road to get sight of Joan—just as had been done every day since our first day's march began. Our march now lay through the grassy plain." together with still softer titles which were simply naive and frank endearments such as men are used to confer upon children whom they love. The march-past after a victory is a thing to drive the heart mad with jubilation." "Victory's Sweetheart. the drums rolling. Always before. but cool and fresh and inspiring. We rode now to the King's lodgings. a thing bred of the emotion that was present there on both sides. They still kept their hands up in reverent salute many steps after they had passed by. whom it had ennobled in its private heart with nobilities of its own creation. But for one impressive sound. and believed it was looking for the last time upon the girlish face of its invincible little Chief. its pet. on her black horse. as it uncoiled from its lair fold by fold. and he was presently ready. and those peasants made a dividing double border for that plain.

which was over toward the gate by which we had entered the city. these human flowers. We entered the gates in state and moved in procession through the city. and where the King and Joan were to lodge. Afterward in the Great Trial these touching scenes were used as a weapon against her. This oil was not earthly oil. with their hands and faces lifted toward Joan of Arc. it was made in heaven. From the Archbishop's Palace. nor any man keep his head covered. perhaps. Remi just as he was going to baptize King Clovis. who had become a Christian. Not a lane between multitudinous flowers standing upright on their stems—no. or flask of holy oil. But she had a dearer honor and an honor more to be proud of. and the grateful tears streaming down. from a humbler source: the common people had had leaden medals struck which bore her effigy and her escutcheon.of her. during all those days. with all the guilds and industries in holiday costume marching in our rear with their banners. for the Sainte Ampoule. One saw them everywhere. She had been made an object of adoration by the people. these flowers were always kneeling. and the waving of handkerchiefs. And that is the kind of lane we had been marching through all these days. those closest to the road hugged her feet and kissed them and laid their wet cheeks fondly against them. As we drew near the city the curving long sweep of ramparts and towers was gay with fluttering flags and black with masses of people. and from the balconies hung costly stuffs of rich colors. the King sent to the Abbey Church of St. and this was proof that she was a heretic—so claimed that unjust court. Joan's name had been introduced into the prayers of the Church—an honor theretofore restricted to royalty. I know this to be true. seen in perspective through a long vista. where we halted. was like a snowstorm. and all the air was vibrant with the crash of artillery and gloomed with drifting clouds of smoke. And all along. The flask. and all the route was hedged with a huzzaing crush of people. saw any of either sex stand while she passed. the flask also. with the oil in it. I never. Remi. I cannot tell you how strange and awful it made me feel when I saw that flask and knew I was looking with my own eyes upon a thing which had actually been in heave. I had known it long before. for Pere Fronte told me in Domremy. It was sent down to St. And I 231 . and by God Himself of a certainty. a thing which had been seen by angels. and these they wore as charms. for He sent it. was brought down from heaven by a dove. Endless borders made of poppies and lilies stretching away in front of us—that is what it looked like. and all the windows were full and all the roofs. kneeling.

to receive the holy vial. otherwise the Abby of St. Remi after the anointing of the King. they and their steeds. to the Abbey Church as a guard of honor to the Archbishop of Rheims and his canons. Remi they halted and formed. for it moved. that was a magnificent thing to see. When the five great lords were ready to start. in accordance with custom. for I could not know but that God had touched it. and that was nine hundred years. Remi. took their way to St.was looking upon it—I. a most ancient ceremonial had to be gone through with. then one saw a long file of lights approaching through the dim church. ever since the time of Clovis. He delivered it. the King deputed five great nobles to ride in solemn state and richly armed and accoutered. would not deliver it. between two multitudes of men and women who lay flat upon their faces and prayed in dumb silence and in dread while that awful thing went by that had been in heaven. Down this space walked the Archbishop and his canons. It is most probable that He had. there was never anything so grand! 232 . At one time I could have touched it. At the door of St. Now in order to get the flask. From this flask Clovis had been anointed. This August company arrived at the great west door of the cathedral. and from it all the kings of France had been anointed since. to the Archbishop. with his miter on his head and his cross in his hand. each bearing his feudal banner—and riding! Oh. bearing the vial. Yes. they knelt in a row and put up their mailed hands before their faces. and it was most impressive. A coronation without that would not have been a coronation at all. The Archbishop and his subordinates. with his people following after. The Archbishop was in grand costume. Riding down the cavernous vastness of the building through the rich lights streaming in long rays from the pictured windows—oh. the whole way. with solemn ceremonies. in my belief. The cathedral was packed with people—people in thousands. as I have said. then the march back began. Remi hereditary guardian in perpetuity of the oil. while we waited. thus nobly escorted. that flask of holy oil was sent for. And so. in his sacerdotal panoply. and as the Archbishop entered a noble anthem rose and filled the vast building. and swore upon their lives to conduct the sacred vessel safely. and after them followed those five stately figures in splendid harness. And so came the Abbot. and safely restore it again to the Church of St. So. Soon one heard the deep tones of the organ and of chanting men. who were to bear the King's demand for the oil. palm joined to palm. But I was afraid. Only a wide space down the center had been kept free.

Behind Joan and the King came the Paladin and the Banner displayed. and everybody was eager to get a sight of them. bearing the Crown of France upon a cushion. followed by train-bearers and other attendants. and one other. Then the Archbishop dismissed them. then came a mighty flood of rich strains from four hundred silver trumpets. like the drowsy buzzing of insects. For some minutes there was a deep hush. They advanced slowly. you could even notice the faintest sounds. approached. in order of rank. appeared Joan and the King. mingled with the deep thunders of the organ and rolling tides of triumphant song from chanting choirs. and the solemnities of the Coronation began. and they made deep obeisance till their plumes touched their horses' necks. After these. framed in the pointed archway of the great west door. and anthems. But at last came the grand act: the King took the oath. Orleans. The King 233 . he was anointed with the sacred oil. came a body royally attired representing the lay peers of France. a silence so profound that it was as if all those packed thousands there were steeped in dreamless slumber—why. then made those proud prancing and mincing and dancing creatures go backward all the way to the door—which was pretty to see. Through all the din one could hear shouts all along that told you where two of them were: "Live the Bastard of Orleans!" "Satan La Hire forever!" The August procession reached its appointed place in time. and sermons. At his side was the Sire d'Albret. side by side. and most proud and lofty in his bearing. and Joan was at the King's side all these hours. all our great generals and famous names.They rode clear to the choir—as much as four hundred feet from the door. it was said. and a majestic figure he was. with her Standard in her hand. and La Tremouille and the young De Laval brothers. then they stood them on their hind-feet and spun them around and plunged away and disappeared. and then. a splendid personage. a waiting pause. These were followed by the representatives of the ecclesiastical peers—the Archbishop of Rheims. and the Bishops of Laon. for he knew that the people were marking him and taking note of the gorgeous state dress which covered his armor. They were long and imposing—with prayers. and everything that is right for such occasions. through a tempest of welcome—explosion after explosion of cheers and cries. Behind these came the Grand Staff. it consisted of three princes of the blood. and kneeling offered it. proxy for the Constable of France. Chalons. bearing the Sword of State. and graceful.

that was royal. I have no other desire. and unto none other. and there he confirmed her nobility and titles." Now that was fine. so divine was the joy that shone in her face as she sank to her knees at the King's feet and looked up at him through her tears. making her the equal of a count in rank. O gentle King. and said: "Then. Ask—do not be afraid. and there before all that host he praised her great deeds in most noble terms." "That is all." The King raised her up. and outside the clamoring of the bells and the booming of the cannon. and her words came soft and low and broken: "Now. the English power was broken. But that was for only a moment—though a moment is a notable something when it stops the heartbeat of twenty thousand people and makes them catch their breath. though it make the kingdom poor to meet it. Then what a crash there was! All about us cries and cheers. and she gave him a look with all the joy of her thankful great soul in it." "It is so commanded. I pray you give commandment that my village. Speak—require—demand. and right finely and right royally lifted it up and set it upon his head. the impossible dream of the peasant-child stood fulfilled. only a moment. and let me go back to my mother. the incredible dream. Joan was on her knees again straightway. the Heir of France was crowned. Her lips were quivering. if out of your compassion you will speak the word. She was like one transfigured. and whatsoever grace you ask it shall be granted. and also appointed a household and officers for her according to her dignity. for he put out his hand and then stopped with it there in the air over the crown. O gentle King. then he smiled. is the pleasure of God accomplished according to His command that you should come to Rheims and receive the crown that belongeth of right to you.seemed to hesitate—in fact. then he caught Joan's eye. poor and hard pressed by reason of war. and the chanting of the choirs and groaning of the organ. did hesitate. who is poor and old. Say on. My work which was given me to do is finished." "All? Nothing but that?" "It is all. and has need of me." 234 . and then he said: "You have saved the crown. and took the Crown of France in his hand. Yes. The fantastic dream." "But that is nothing—less than nothing. give me your peace. may have its taxes remitted. the fingers in the attitude of taking hold of it.

just as I tell you. Where the figures should be. and the same words have been written every year for all these years. but you. is freed from all taxation forever. yet how much it says! It is the nation speaking. Sixty-three years have gone by since that day. Domremy has long ago forgotten what that dread sorrowsowing apparition is like. called the Maid of Orleans. Sixty-three tax-books have been filed meantime. as if trying to comprehend and realize the full stature of this strange unselfishness. The tax-gatherer never visits Domremy. I will not have aught else. who are children of France. should remember with pride that France has kept this one faithfully. not for herself. and they lie yonder with the other public records. gentle King. and all she asks and all she will take is this poor grace—and even this is for others. it is decreed that from this day forth Domremy. and all the villages of that region have paid except that one—Domremy. unselfish creature that she was that day. this act showed that after all the dizzy grandeurs that had come upon her. Deliverer of France." but under that name not a figure appears. She shall have her way. But whether she had the vision or not. though he gave his all." Whereat the silver horns blew a jubilant blast. Charles VII. At the top of every page in the sixty-three books stands the name of a village. And it is well. In each of the sixty-three books there is a page headed "Domremi. You have the spectacle of that unsentimental thing. There."Indeed. It is true. and below that name its weary burden of taxation is figured out and displayed. Then he raised his head and said: "Who has won a kingdom and crowned its King. you see. Do not press me." Often the gratitude of kings and nations fades and their promises are forgotten or deliberately violated. therefore. Yes." The King seemed nonplussed. her act being proportioned to the dignity of one who carries in her head and heart riches which outvalue any that any King could add. and stood still a moment. The taxes of the region wherein Domremy lies have been collected sixty-three times since then. she had had a vision of this very scene the time she was in a trance in the pastures of Domremy and we asked her to name to boon she would demand of the King if he should ever chance to tell her she might claim one. a Government. How brief it is. with always those grateful words lettered across the face of it—a touching memorial. Now. it is a blank page. there are three words written. I cannot. in the case of all save one. yes. and any may see them that desire it. she was still the same simple. natal village of Joan of Arc. making 235 . but only this alone. remitted those taxes "forever.

During the tumult of the French Revolution the promise was forgotten and the grace withdrawn. it is France that commands." Yes. "Uncover. but the one humble little thing which she did ask for and get has been taken away from her. An so ended the third of the great days of Joan's life. And how close together they stand—May 8th. There is something infinitely pathetic about this. and with a noble profusion. but France is building one. and took up its solemn march through the midst of the church. all instruments and all people making such clamor of rejoicing noises as was. then the over-confident octogenarian's prophecy failed. Everything which Joan of Arc did not ask for has been given her. "forever" was the King's word. Joan never asked to be remembered. but France has remembered her with an inextinguishable love and reverence.IT was faithfully kept during three hundred and sixty years and more. Joan never asked for saintship.3 At two o'clock in the afternoon the ceremonies of the Coronation came at last to an end. a marvel to hear. France owes Domremy a hundred years of taxes.reverence to that name and saying to its agent. with Joan and the King at its head. and pass on. it will be kept always. Joan never asked for a church for Domremy. the promise has been kept. It has remained in disuse ever since. June 18th. 236 . — NOTE BY THE TRANSLATOR. July 17th! 3. but even that is impending. indeed. then the procession formed once more. but France has lavished them upon her. Joan never asked for a statue. and could hardly find a citizen within her borders who would vote against the payment of the debt.

and kneeling hailed with a rousing welcome the consecrated King and his companion the Deliverer of France. But by and by when we had paraded about the chief parts of the city and were come near to the end of our course. The news flew everywhere. we being now approaching the Archbishop's palace. like grain before the reaper. calling him by all manner of endearing names. Laxart. transfixed. with their caps in their shaking hands. How easy it was for her to do miracles like to this! She was like the sun. and clothed in the coarse garb of the peasantry. Two halberdiers sprang at them in a fury to teach them better manners. they trembling and scared. hard by the inn that is called the Zebra. For it was her father. a spectacle to remember. that they had seen the father of Joan of Arc and the brother of her mother. and the other was her uncle. she radiant with happiness and affection. and sobbing. and as we moved between the banked multitudes they sank down all along abreast of us as we advanced. Yes. and shouts of welcome were raised. and there before all the world the King gave them his hand to kiss.Chapter 36 Joan Hears News from Home WE MOUNTED and rode. and in just one little moment those two despised and unknown plebeians were become famous and popular and envied. unconscious. one saw on the right. a most noble display of rich vestments and nodding plumes. all their lives long. these two. staring. All graciously the King said: "Bring them to me. on whatsoever dim and humble object her rays fell. while the people gazed in envy and admiration. that thing was straightway drowned in glory." And she brought them. and he said to old D'Arc: 237 . but just as they seized them Joan cried out "Forbear!" and slid from her saddle and flung her arms about one of those peasants. and everybody was in a fever to get sight of them and be able to say. a strange t—two men not kneeling but standing! Standing in the front rank of the kneelers.

they being only humble and ignorant peasants. at first. which so overwhelmed them with pride and delight and astonishment that they couldn't speak a word. and could not believe. and "my horse" there and yonder and all around. the King said to him. and to the Court and the Grand Staff. You who bear a name that will still live in the mouths of men when all the race of kings has been forgotten. and spread their legs and hitch their thumbs in their armpits. and that there they remained. He made the innkeeper place a whole floor at their disposal. And so they sat there and looked down upon the splendid spectacle. The Bailly did the best he could in the circumstances. they were the happiest old children one ever saw. and charge all to the city. and about the middle of it Pere D'Arc and Laxart were sent for. and were moved till the tears ran down their cheeks to see the unbelievable honors that were paid to 238 . "These two are guests of France. so that they could say "my horse" here. and the simplest." and bade him use them hospitably. and taste the words and lick their chops over them. they did not even know what to do with their hands. but would not venture until it was promised that they might sit in a gallery and be all by themselves and see all that was to be seen and yet be unmolested. They could not unglue their minds from those grandeurs. so they begged off. and it took all their attention to keep from treading on them. it is not meet that you bare your head before the fleeting fames and dignities of a day—cover yourself!" And truly he looked right fine and princely when he said that. and were always wrenching the conversation out of its groove and dragging the matter of animals into it. They could not have enjoyed such things. Poor souls."Give God thanks for that you are father to this child. I may as well say now as later. Then he gave order that the Bailly of Rheims be brought. Well. and told him to provide everything they might desire. but they were frightened at these projects. The city gave a grand banquet to the King and Joan in mid-afternoon. that Papa D'Arc and Laxart were stopping in that little Zebra inn. and when he was come. Finer quarters were offered them by the Bailly. also public distinctions and brave entertainment. Also the Bailly gave them a horse apiece and furnishings. this dispenser of immortalities. and stood bent low and bare. for in their lives they had never dreamed of wealth like this. and feel as the good God feels when He looks out on His fleets of constellations plowing the awful deeps of space and reflects with satisfaction that they are His—all His. that the horses were real and would not dissolve to a mist and blow away. and had peace.

and soon she came herself and sent her guard away. he had fine things hidden away in his nature. and got them to their seats and snuggled down between them. it stood the strain of the King's gracious speech. but she kept it in. as I have said. which took the place by storm. and how naively serene and unafraid she sat there with those consuming glories beating upon her. though one seldom got a glimpse of them. Yes. that magician of magicians. and even La Hire's thunder-blast. with that scheming Tremouille and those others always standing in the light. and of D'Alencon's praiseful words. for I am done with the great wars now. and were standing in an embarrassed and unmilitary way. they brought a force to bear which was too strong for her. but be kin and playmates as in other times. For at the close the King put up his hand to command silence. and said: "Now we will nave no more ceremony. and so be at home again. in their private parlor. and took a hand of each of them upon her knees and nestled her own hands in them. that sweet and dear surprise. who lifts his wand and says his mysterious word and all things real pass away and the phantoms of your mind walk before you clothed in flesh. you see. Indeed. as not wishing to hurt them. and you two will 239 . so profound it was. when a large parcel arrived from Joan to be kept till she came. as was meet. and he so indolently content to save himself fuss and argument and let them have their way. brewing generous drinks and breaking ground for a homely talk about Domremy and the neighbors. and war and wounds and blood and death and the mad frenzy and turmoil of battle a dream. but at last. with his hand up. Then out of some remote corner of that vast place there rose a plaintive voice. saying she would take one of her father's rooms and sleep under his roof. We of the staff rose and stood. and the Bastard's. Yes. till every sound was dead and it was as if one could almost the stillness. But at last her serenity was broken up. and in tones most tender and sweet and rich came floating through that enchanted hush our poor old simple song "L'Arbre Fee Bourlemont!" and then Joan broke down and put her face in her hands and cried. all in a moment the pomps and grandeurs dissolved away and she was a little child again herding her sheep with the tranquil pastures stretched about her. At the fall of night we the Domremy contingent of the personal staff were with the father and uncle at the inn. Ah. and so waited. Then she turned and saw that the two old men had gotten up too. until she made us sit. which made her want to laugh.their small darling. that shows you the power of music. That was the King's invention.

and love for all things that have life. and I shall see—" She stopped. Laxart. and noise and tumult were against my liking. as if a doubt or a presentiment had flitted through her mind. 'It is like the 240 . looking pretty vacant. and. my disposition being toward peace and quietness. she is out in this with her poor wet soldiers. and for a moment her happy face sobered. and the pain that goes with them.take me home with you." "No. and being made like this. and wakes nights. "Oh." They didn't quite know what to say. if the day were but come and we could start!" The old father was surprised. She worries. and crown the King at Rheims. not one. then it cleared again. and lies so." said the uncle. only two: to raise the siege of Orleans. "I was not ever fond of wounds and suffering. it is such bliss to know that my release is won. And when the night storms go raging along. and she said.' And when the lightning glares and the thunder crashes she wrings her hands and trembles. and quarrelings did always distress me. are you in earnest? Would you leave doing these wonders that make you to be praised by everybody while there is still so much glory to be won. and I am free. oh." said Joan. your mother—that is true. child. and could I disobey? I did as I was bid. and I not felt the pain in my own body. and indeed not understandable. "it is amazing to hear. worrying about you. worrying. whether friend or foe. saying. and the grief of his home-mates in my own heart? No. It is a stranger thing to hear her say she will stop the soldiering that it was to hear her say she would begin it. and would you go out from this grand comradeship with princes and generals to be a drudging villager again and a nobody? It is not rational. how could I bear to think of wars and blood. God pity her. and worries. I never saw such a woman. Did He command me to do many things? No. The task is finished." "It is not difficult. she moans and says. and that I shall not any more see these cruel things or suffer these tortures of the mind again! Then why should I not go to my village and be as I was before? It is heaven! and ye wonder that I desire it. nor fitted by my nature to inflict them. with a passionate yearning. Then old D'Arc said: "Yes. Has ever a poor soldier fallen in my sight. thinking—that is. and worries. ye are men—just men! My mother would understand. so they sat still awhile. and I who speak to you can say in all truth that that was the strangest word that ever I had heard till this day and hour. 'Ah. Ah. and said: "Why. I would it could be explained. and the sorrow and mourning that follow after? But by his angels God laid His great commands upon me.

she was the comrade of princes and heroes. and all on your account. then she brightened up and said. 'Now it is over—now France is saved—now she will come home'—and always is disappointed and goes about mourning. it is true. talked about everything and everybody in the village. as I have noticed a many times. "But let us drive such thoughts away—this is no time for them. father! it breaks my heart." There was some more talk of this sort. her name was the mightiest in France. you can see yourselves that that would have been impossible. She was the Commander-in-Chief.awful cannon and the flash. Joan out of her kindness tried to get us into the conversation. And always she says. cheerily. and none may deny it. it is pity!" "Yes. or tell the half. for she never mentions the battle once. but they are not enough." "Ah. she rushes here and there in a maniacal frenzy till she finds out the one only thing she cares to know—that you are safe. we of the humble and obscure. but what of the King? You are his best soldier. To put it in one word. When there is news of a victory and all the village goes mad with pride and joy. she was JOAN OF ARC—and when that is said. a most strange woman. Between her and us lay the bridgeless abyss which that word implies. quite simply and resignedly: "The King is my Lord. she held rank above all Personages and all Puissances whatsoever in the whole earth. then down she goes on her knees in the dirt and praises God as long as there is any breath left in her body. dear. I will do her work for her. and are quits. it is pity. And yet she was so human. and so good and kind and dear and loving and cheery and charming and unspoiled and unaffected! Those are all the words I think of now. To us she was divine." "Don't." So the two old gossips talked and talked. and it was good to hear. but that failed. and be her comfort. by right of baring her commission direct from God. I am his servant. no. what if he command you to stay?" That was a crusher—and sudden! It took Joan a moment or two to recover from the shock of it. all is said. I will be so good to her when I get home. and yonder somewhere she is riding down upon the spouting guns and I not there to protect her. then she said. Those simple 241 . and she shall not suffer any more through me. we were invisible atoms. we were nobodies. We could not be familiar with her. they are too few and colorless and meager to tell it all." She was silent and thoughtful a little while. poor mother. Tell me about home. of course. then Uncle Laxart said: "You have done the will of God. No. too.

that simple old Laxart sat up there and droned out the most tedious and empty tale one ever heard. for he wasn't. It made one shiver. "The bull?" and he said. There was not an atom of value in it. and so they had no other standard to measure her by. and trying to say pitying things to him. and he got Joan to rub some healing ointment on them. and thought maybe he could ride part way on him and gain time. and whilst they thought it distressing and pathetic. or ever suspected that that foolish tale was anything but dignified and valuable history. and the more sorrowful it got the more it made her laugh. and it seems so yet. but anyway he was away over beyond the Fairy Tree. but actually ridiculous. And he said it was a young bull now. and Uncle Laxart was satisfied. and she said. she was just a girl—that was all. myself". It was about old Laxart going to a funeral there at Domremy two or three weeks back. they couldn't. he told her how it happened. but it was all new to the bull. they had never known any people but human beings. sometimes. "No. Indeed. I know it was. so he tied a rope around the bull's body to hold on by. And first he asked her if she remembered that black bull calf that she left behind when she came away. and hear them talk to her exactly as they would have talked to any other girl in France. and not a moment to lose. At least it seemed so to me.old men didn't realize her. after their first little shyness had worn off. and the Paladin said that he could have laughed himself if she had not been there. but not because of his being invited. too. because it made Joan laugh. but said the bull did take a hand. and he was a dear. and neither he nor Papa D'Arc ever gave a thought to the badness of the etiquette of it. and fell asleep on the grass with his Sunday funeral clothes on. and jumped up terribly worried. and Noel Rainguesson said the same. and he was discontented with it. To them. and jumped on and started. but he didn't dare try. and scurried around and bellowed and reared and pranced. and very frisky. and he was to bear a principal hand at a funeral. and wanted to get off and go by the next bull or some other way that was quieter. and comforting him. It was amazing. and saw the young bull grazing there. it was in fact not pathetic at all. and while she was doing it. and she said indeed she did. Why. and put a halter on him to steer with. and not 242 . and it was getting very warm for him. to see how calm and easy and comfortable they were in her presence. and when he woke he saw by the sun how late it was. and she loved him so. and disturbing and wearisome. and was he well?—and just drowned him in questions about that creature. and a long black rag on his hat and hanging down his back. He had spots all over his face and hands.

and says: "What do you reckon she is laughing at?" And old D'Arc stood looking at her the same way. 243 . apparently. and looked a long time in a dazed way at Joan where she had her face in a cushion. and his face looked like a pudding with raisins in it. and prodded them both. and soared along in a black cloud that nearly hid those other two from sight. dying. whereas this strange and useless event teaches nothing. and not a rag of that funeral left but the corpse. and said he didn't know—"must have been something that happened when we weren't noticing. both of those old people thought that that tale was pathetic. sort of absently scratching his head. It seemed so to me then. and it seems so to me yet. it does not resemble history. except not to ride a bull to a funeral. and here they came roaring through the village like a hurricane.proper for Sunday. and the rest scattered apart and fled screeching in every direction. and not in any way valuable to any one. and just in the edge of the village he knocked down some beehives. and took the funeral procession right in the center. whereas to my mind it was purely ridiculous. but by and by the bull lost all his temper. for the office of history is to furnish serious and important facts that teach. and surely no reflecting person needs to be taught that. this old simpleton." Yes. and jabbed them and speared them and spiked them. every person with a layer of bees on him. and shriek and bellow. and the bees turned out and joined the excursion. And as for history. and sent that section of it sprawling. and went tearing down the slope with his tail in the air and blowing in the most awful way. and galloped over it. and made them bellow and shriek. and finally the bull broke for the river and jumped in. And then he turned around. but had to give it up. and when they fished Uncle Laxart out he was nearly drowned. nothing that I can see.

indeed! Why. that reminds me. now. they did not bother about their nobility. In the town. Joan looked troubled. that they were present in the very town itself when it happened. No. But Joan was looking up in his face. you know. and the greatest in the land! and in my ignorant anger I said I would drown you with my own hands if you unsexed yourself and brought shame to your name 244 . you could have sat with the other nobles. and would make a mighty stir in Domremy. and could have looked upon the crowning itself. You were here and you didn't send me word. so presently he drew her to his breast. and had the air of one who does not quite know what to say. I might shame you before these great per—" "Father!" "And then I was afraid. He had to speak. appointed of God to be a soldier. when they got home. and carried that home to tell. it was an abstraction. and said: "Ah. Ah. and let your old father humble himself and make his confession. Presently something was said about the Coronation. and send me no word?" The old father was embarrassed. child. a phantom. I—I—don't you see. hide your face. don't you understand?—I could not know that these grandeurs would not turn your young head—it would be only natural. to them it had no substance. they lived in their horses. their minds could not take hold of it. getting out his words with difficulty: "There.Chapter 37 Again to Arms NOW THESE were nobles. and he said. as remembering that cruel thing I said once in my sinful anger. they could not be called conscious of it. quite visibly embarrassed. which was heaving with emotion. by decree of the King!—these precious old infants. why did you use me so. and ben welcome. her hands upon his shoulders—waiting. Oh. and old D'Arc said it was going to be a grand thing to be able to say. But they did not realize it. The horses were solid. they were visible facts.

almost the same words. Whenever one sees in a book or in a king's proclamation those words "the nation. only those. it is the training of everybody. and you forgive?" Do you see? Even that poor groping old land-crab. I have carried the conviction in my heart that our peasants are not merely animals. I don't remember what it begins with. "If they could only come back!" Which is all very well to say. beasts of burden put here by the good God to produce food and comfort for the "nation. as far as I can see. I had it in my mind only a moment ago. then I think they will rise up and demand to be regarded as part of the race. And I believe that some day they will find this out. Yes. I thank that incident for giving me a better light. too—and then! Well. You understand it now. Well. had pride. but never mind. Laid it to rest until she should be dead. but. beings in a great many respects like ourselves. with his skull full of pulp. Then he would remember it again—yes." they bring before us the upper classes. I will think of it presently. my child. it doesn't profit anything. In my opinion the best way is not to do the thing in the first place. I believe it was at Beaugency. but it is not. but as for me. It looks impossible. I have heard our two knights say the same thing. and laid the memory of that old hard speech of his to rest. how those things sting. and then I will tell you. a dark man with a cast in his eye and one leg shorter than the other. it looks incredible. and I know it begins with—no. Isn't it wonderful? And more—he had conscience. and you so good and dear and innocent! I was afraid. She coaxed him and petted him and caressed him. that is what she would do—there was no need to say that. and that by consequence there will be trouble. 245 . when one is old. But from the day that I saw old D'Arc the peasant acting and feeling just as I should have acted and felt myself. or one of those places—it seems more as if it was at Beaugency than the others—this man said the same thing exactly." but something more and better. His name was—was—it is singular that I can't call that man's name.and family. he was able to find remorse. You look incredulous. such as it was. that is your training. he had a sense of right and wrong. we know no other "nation". how could I ever have said it. for us and the kings no other "nation" exists. I think I said Joan comforted him. And I am not alone in this. I believe that some day it will be found out that peasants are people. Let me see—where was I? One's mind wanders around here and there and yonder. Certainly. for I was guilty. and I have never forgotten it. Ah. and a man there in Orleans—no. and gnaw—the things which we did against the innocent dead! And we say in our anguish. and burn. let it go. yes! Lord.

and finally he stood Joan up in the middle of the room and stepped off and scanned her critically. Joan was easily his master. I saw them many times. and strode up and down. to-day." And she did it. and skipped and dodged and scrambled around like a woman who has lost her mind on account of the arrival of a bat. not a league-striding war-colossus. and in the reeling and swaying and laboring jumble one's horse's hoofs sink into soft substances and shrieks of pain respond. It was beautiful to see Joan handle the foils. it gave one a sort of notion of it. and got it. and put him through the manual of arms. crisp words of command. I am obliged to say that if looking proud and happy when one is marching were sufficient. I would God I might see you at it and go tell your mother! That would help her sleep. and the perilous sudden back surge of massed horses upon a person when the front ranks give way before a heavy rush of the enemy. asking question after question and never waiting for an answer. You are so little. True. pretty soon the old father wanted to know how Joan felt when she was in the thick of a battle. his tongue going like a mill. She gave him a pike. And he wanted a lesson in sword-play. and battle-flags falling from dead hands wipe across one's face and hide the tossing turmoil a moment. So little and slender. but it made a good show for all that. and made him do the steps. Those two fenced often.Well. What a swift creature Joan was! You would see her standing erect with her ankle-bones together and her foil arched over her 246 . and so was his drill with the pike. He was afraid of the things. But of course that was beyond him. too. and men tumble limp and groaning out of saddles all around. he was too old. he would have been the perfect soldier. When you had your armor on. and was wonderfully pleased with himself. and presently—panic! rush! swarm! flight! and death and hell following after! And the old fellow got ever so much excited. But if La Hire had only come in. and mightily excited and charmed with the ringing. for La Hire was a grand swordsman. and said: "No—I don't understand it. but the old man was a bad failure. and blood gushing on her from the cloven ghastly face and broken teeth of the neighbor at her elbow. but in these pretty silks and velvets. He was of no good as an exhibition. poor thing! Here—teach me the arts of the soldier. that I may explain them to her. with the bright blades hacking and flashing all around her. His marching was incredibly awkward and slovenly. and the blows rapping and slatting on her shield. you are only a dainty page. moving in clouds and darkness and breathing smoke and thunder. but he didn't know it. that would have been another matter.

for that all the people there were cruel anxious to see her—and so he went on: "They are proud of you. and welcome. for it is the first time a village has ever had anybody like you to be proud of and call its own. And they gave to Joan a present from Pere Fronte and one from her mother—the one a little leaden image of the Holy Virgin. and so they try to do you honor and show their love for you by naming all those creatures after you. And indeed it is right and rational. as one could see plainly enough. and with each effort perching the helmet on her hand and holding it off this way and that. but all that the spectator saw of it was a something like a thin flash of light in the air. Yes. prouder than any village ever was of anybody before. and she pinned the Virgin on her doublet. They got out the presents which they had been buying to carry home—humble things and cheap. and so it is surprising to see how many babies there are already in that region that are named for you. They know how you love animals. as having always with her something which her mother's touch had blessed. the hilt in one hand and the button in the other—the old general opposite. but home first. then it was Joan-Orleans. bent forward. but without being what you could call tipsy. for that would please the Bailly and the landlord. and canting her head to one side and then the other. but nothing distinct. and the animals the same. and there she was. First it was just Joan. then Joan-Orleans-BeaugencyPatay. then a new way. insomuch that if a body 247 . first one way. as a bird does when it has got a new bug. with the foil arched over her head as before. and she was as pleased as a child. nothing definite. left hand reposing on his back. and sent for her helmet and tied the ribbon on that. the other half a yard of blue silk ribbon. And it is strange and beautiful how they try to give your name to every creature that has a sex that is convenient. for then she would fight with the better courage. and old Laxart and D'Arc got to feeling quite comfortable. too. Old Laxart said he hoped she would go to the wars again. dear. examining the effect. Yes. La Hire had been hit. as if they had been something costly and wonderful. and now the next ones will have a lot of towns and the Coronation added. then another. then another new way. slightly wiggling and squirming. she kissed those poor things over and over again. and back again. of course. It is but half a year since you began to be spoken of and left us. And she said she could almost wish she was going to the wars again. but they would be fine there.head. We kept the drinkables moving. his watching eye boring straight into hers—and all of a sudden she would give a spring forward. and touched. his foil advanced. Yes.

Commander-in-Chief again. and ready for duty. which I read to her. The kitten you left behind—the last stray you fetched home—bears you name. and is the pet and pride of the village. It was a messenger from the King. the village rose against him as one man and hanged him! And but for Pere Fronte—" There was an interruption. and she was Joan of Arc. 248 . Deep disappointment clouded her face for just one moment and no more—it passed. for the sake of the food that might be on delivery. and was obliged to ask her to remain at the head of the army and withdraw her resignation. now. and belongs to Pere Fronte. and with it the homesick girl. and people have come miles to look at it and pet it and stare at it and wonder over it because it was Joan of Arc's cat. bearing a note for Joan. Everybody will tell you that. at a little distance. and one day when a stranger threw a stone at it. anyway. and we knew that her guard was approaching. and had consulted his other generals. Also. saying he had reflected. would she come immediately and attend a council of war? Straightway. and all willing to take the benefit of the doubt. not knowing it was your cat. each supposing it was the one wanted.should step out and call 'Joan of Arc—come!' there would be a landslide of cats and all such things. military commands and the rumble of drums broke on the still night.

You have not craved a council of war. and he goes out among his friends to ask what he would better do? A council of war. She moved straight to the council-table. What was become of the volatile child that so lately was enchanted with a ribbon and suffocated with laughter over the distress of a foolish peasant who had stormed a funeral on the back of a bee-stung bull? One may not guess. and all pulses beating faster and faster. Simply it was gone. for the spirit of war was away down in him somewhere. and stood. and where it fell. name of God! To determine what?" She stopped. and turned till her eyes rested upon the face of La Tremouille." Then she turned toward the King's privy council. But a council of war when there is only one course? Conceive of a man in a boat and his family in the water. and said: "My business is not with you.Chapter 38 The King Cries "Forward!" IN MY double quality of page and secretary I followed Joan to the council. and continued: "No. La Tremouille turned white with anger. it is with you. Her glance swept from face to face there. those it scorched as with a brand. but he pulled himself firmly together and held his peace. these lit it as with a torch. She entered that presence with the bearing of a grieved goddess. She indicated the generals with a nod. and so she stood. measuring him. The King's lazy blood was stirred and his eye kindled finely. then she said. and only one. 249 . and lo. She knew where to strike. There is but one thing to do. A council of war! It is amazing. and had left no sign. silent. the excitement in all faces burning steadily higher and higher. with deliberation: "Every sane man—whose loyalty is to his King and not a show and a pretense—knows that there is but one rational thing before us—the march upon Paris!" Down came the fist of La Hire with an approving crash upon the table. ye call a council of war! Councils of war have no value but to decide between two or several doubtful courses.

He would wait. Joan waited to see if the chief minister might wish to defend his position. and not a man to waste his forces where the current was against him. and he retorted: "Shame? What is there shameful about it?" Joan answered in level. I claim your protection." said Joan. my lord. to move abruptly from here without waiting for an answer from the Duke of Burgundy? You may not know that we are negotiating with his Highness. my lord. and said to Joan: "Would it be courteous. I knew of this poor comedy. since it concerned war as well as politics. bold speech always found it and made it tingle gladsomely. It is but just that she be heard upon it now. as calmly as before. your Excellency. smiling persuasively. passionless tones: "One may describe it without hunting far for words." "Save your charity for another occasion. and that there is likely to be a fortnight's truce between us. but he was experienced and wise. and again the King's eye sparkled with pleasure.and a frank." Joan turned to him and said. and on his part a pledge to deliver Paris into our hands without the cost of a blow or the fatigue of a march thither. saying: "Peace. and remarked to Joan: "Out of charity I will consider that you did not know who devised this measure which you condemn in so candid language. You were not obliged to expose that shame here. The Chancellor sprang to his feet and appealed to his Majesty: "Sire. gravely: "This is not a confessional." The Chancellor spoke up with a fine irony in his manner: "Indeed? And will your Excellency be good enough to utter them?" "Cowardice and treachery!" The fists of all the generals came down this time. my lord. "Whenever anything is done to injure the interests and 250 . although it was not intended that I should know." The Chancellor's face reddened. the King's private ear would be at his disposal by and by. That pious fox the Chancellor of France took the word now. She had a right to be consulted before that thing was undertaken. He washed his soft hands together." But the King waved him to his seat again. It is to the credit of the devisers of it that they tried to conceal it—this comedy whose text and impulse are describable in two words." The Chancellor sat down trembling with indignation.

In twenty days it shall be yours. Consider—and be just." Both men were on their feet now. "Whence have we marched in these last days? From Gien. whereas you say yours behind her back.degrade the honor of France. we have been hindered by this policy of shilly-shally. insisting that the King modify Joan's frankness. but he was not minded to do it. And whither? To Rheims. His ordinary councils were stale water—his spirit was drinking wine. and would see the last Englishman pass out of France in half a year. all but the dead know how to name the two conspirators-in-chief—" "Sir. my lord. more counseling. What bristled between? English strongholds. We took Orleans on the 8th of May. "Once more we have our opportunity. But we struck no blow after Orleans. Speak the word. all is well. and in six months all France! Here is half a year's work before us. If we rise and strike. "March upon Paris? Does your Excellency forget that the way bristles with English strongholds?" "That for your English strongholds!" and Joan snapped her fingers scornfully. I bring it against the King's chief minister and his Chancellor. with a veiled twinkle in his eyes. this fashion of counseling and counseling and counseling where no counseling is needed. but only fighting. Oh. if this chance be wasted. and the taste of it was good. placidly. "it is a charge. O gentle King—speak but the one—" "I cry you mercy!" interrupted the Chancellor. who saw a dangerous enthusiasm rising in the King's face. We could have been in Rheims six weeks ago." said Joan. 251 . really to give Bedford time to send reinforcements to Talbot—which he did. After Patay." He was pleased with that neat shot and the way it shriveled those two people up. "If these are offenses I see no particular difference between them. and Patay had to be fought. When have you two spared her? What dark charges and harsh names have you withheld when you spoke of her?" Then he added. and could have cleared the region round about in three days and saved the slaughter of Patay. now. He said: "Sit—and be patient. I give you twenty years to do it in. more waste of precious time. sire! this insinuation—" "It is not an insinuation. Bid me march upon Paris. What is fair for one must in fairness be allowed the other. and made La Hire laugh out loud and the other generals softly quake and chuckle. I would that you would be persuaded!" She began to warm up. except that she says her hard things to your faces. and in Paris now. my King. Joan tranquilly resumed: "From the first. but went off into the country—what for? Ostensibly to hold councils. now.

rouse! The way is open. Carry it to Paris. it is madness. too. the same questionings. By the treaty which we have every hope to make with him—" "Oh. Speak and we—" "Sire. it was blows!—the blows which we gave him! That is the only teaching that that sturdy rebel can understand. sheer madness! Your Excellency. "Yes. and Joan had to pause a moment to let it subside. He deliver Paris! Ah. Is it your subtle persuasions that have softened his manners and beguiled him to listen to proposals? No. we must treat with the Duke of Burgundy. Paris is ours. the same disposition to see the heavy hand of God descending upon them. but that would make great Bedford smile! Oh. We have but to march!—on the instant—and they are ours. the King surrenders. command your servant to—" "Stay!" cried the Chancellor. the pitiful pretext! the blind can see that this thin pour-parler with its fifteen-day truce has no purpose but to give Bedford time to hurry forward his forces against us. France implores.What are they now? French ones—and they never cost a blow!" Here applause broke out from the group of generals. English strongholds bristled before us. More treachery—always treachery! We call a council of war—with nothing to council about. and defied you." "And we will!" said Joan. the treaty which we hope to make with him! He has scorned you for years. now French ones bristle behind us. we cannot. and drew his sword. we must not go back from what we have done. that is music!" The King was up. What is the argument? A child can read it. but Bedford calls no council to teach him what our course is. but by the same breed as those others—with the same fears. He knows what he would do in our place." 252 . saying: "There. O my King. and took it by the blade and strode to Joan and delivered the hilt of it into her hand. What does he care for wind? The treaty which we hope to make with him—alack! He deliver Paris! There is no pauper in the land that is less able to do it. France is ours! Give the word. The strongholds between us and Paris are garrisoned by no new breed of English. we have proposed to treat. He would hang his traitors and march upon Paris! O gentle King. and in the midst of it one heard La Hire growl out: "At the point of the lance! By God. Paris beckons. to a man—all that had French hearts—and let go a crack of applause—and kept it up. the same weaknesses. "Ah? How?" "At the point of the lance!" The house rose. "It would be madness to put our affront upon his Highness the Duke of Burgundy.

and the historical council of war that has bred so many legends was over. 253 .And so the applause burst out again.

but I wasn't. s'il vous plait de guerroyer. and soon were added to this the music of distant bugles and the roll of drums—notes of preparation. and in the morning give to her father the parcel which she had left there. ainsi que doivent faire loyaux chretiens. Joan walked the floor and dictated a summons to the Duke of Burgundy to lay down his arms and make peace and exchange pardons with the King. It was delivered into the hands of a courier. She said she would say good-by to her father and uncle in the morning if it should still be their purpose to go. wherefore the messengers galloping hither and thither raised a world of clatter and racket in the still streets. go fight the Saracens. instead of tarrying awhile to see the city.Chapter 39 We Win. and he galloped away with it. It contained presents for the Domremy relatives and friends and a peasant dress which she had bought for herself. for it was my turn to work. but I could have said that wild horses couldn't keep those men in that town half a day. It is my opinion that it was as fine and simple and straightforward and eloquent a state paper as she ever uttered. The Joan dismissed me. They waste the glory of being the first to carry the great news to Domremy—the taxes remitted forever!—and hear the bells clang and clatter. Patay and Orleans and the Coronation were events 254 . and had the sterling ring to it. and had been a tremendous day in the matter of excitement and fatigue. She did not think of bed. if he must fight. for the vanguard would break camp at dawn. and they sent them off to their different commands as fast as delivered. but that was no matter to Joan when there was business on hand. entierement. nor Joan. allez contre les Sarrasins." It was long. The generals were soon dismissed. and she delivered her orders to them as fast as she could talk. But the King Balks IT WAS away past midnight. of course. now. but it was good. and told me to go to the inn and stay. not they. "Pardonnez-vous l'un—l'autre de bon coeligeur. I didn't say anything. and the people cheer and shout? Oh. The generals followed her to her official quarters. et. or.

but I thank God I am not of those. and the Paladin was doing his battles in great style. and shouting. on and on I flew. I had caused what seemed an irreparable disaster. but by misfortune and the inscrutable dispensation of God I was recognized! Talbot turned white. films. Minute after minute passed. this was a gigantic reality! When I got there. the word rang out at last—'Go!' and we went! "Went? There was nothing like it ever seen! Where we swept by squads of scampering English. He was doing Patay now. and the peasants were stooped over with their hands on their spread knees observing with excited eyes and ripping out ejaculations of wonder and admiration all along: "Yes. it is the Standard-Bearer of Joan of Arc!' drove his spurs home till they met in the middle of his horse's entrails. and was bending his big frame forward and laying out the positions and movements with a rake here and a rake there of his formidable sword on the floor. and was bitterly ashamed. leaving a causeway of the dead stretching far behind. none suspecting my design. but on! on! on! far yonder in the distance lay our prey—Talbot and his host looming vast and dark like a storm-cloud brooding on the sea! Down we swooped upon them. In another moment we should have struck them as world strikes world when disorbited constellations crash into the Milky way. as if on wings. They and the rest were as mellow as mellow could be.which in a vague way these men understood to be colossal. 'Save yourselves. I saw reproach in the eyes of her Excellency. waiting—waiting for the word. here we were. I saw my opportunity in an instant—in the next I was away! Through the woods I vanished—fst!—like an extinguished light! Away around through the curtaining forest I sped. and the old peasants were endangering the building with their applause. on. our horses fidgeting and snorting and dancing to get away. Great occasions only summon as with a trumpet-call the slumbering reserves of my intellect. none knowing what was become of me. the mere wind of our passage laid them flat in piles and rows! Then we plunged into the ruck of Fastolfe's frantic battle-corps and tore through it like a hurricane. abstractions. and at last with a great cheer I 255 . and still on. but they were colossal mists. do you suppose they were abed! Quite the reverse. no tarrying. and fled the field with his billowing multitudes at his back! I could have cursed myself for not putting on a disguise. Another might have gone aside to grieve. no slacking rein. glooming all the air with a quivering pall of dead leaves flung up by the whirlwind of our flight. we lying back on the bridles till our bodies fairly slanted to the rear. as not seeing any way to mend it.

" said Noel Rainguesson. and the day was ours! Poor helpless creatures. and the chickens go to roost an hour before schedule time. Yes. you are preparing yourself for trouble. It was a marvel to see those innocent peasants. for horsemanship was a new art to them. their hands fell listless at their sides. it was a mighty thought! That weltering chaos of distracted men whirled and surged backward like a tidal wave which has struck a continent. and some say—" "Noel Rainguesson. When they had cooled down at last and there was silence but for the heaving and panting. 256 . one under each arm. Joan made her good-byes to those old fellows in the morning. such grandeur of attitude. I will say just one word to you. that is what he is. on such sure wing. they could not escape to the rear. the Paladin was in great form that night. for there was our army. "He is a terror. there is no denying it. No man could prophesy when it would end. the shadow of it falls as far as Rome. such a climaxing peal from his brazen lungs. such nicely graduated expenditures of voice according to the weight of the matter. and such a lightning-vivid picture of his mailed form and flaunting banner when he burst out before that despairing army! And oh. the gentle art of the last half of his last sentence—delivered in the careless and indolent tone of one who has finished his real story. such belief-compelling sincerity of tone and manner. some will say that. admiringly: "As it seems to me. with loving embraces and many tears. all except Talbot and Fastolfe. His mere name carries a shudder with it to distant lands—just he mere name. Their hearts shriveled in their bodies. and with a packed multitude for sympathizers. and not just in this vicinity. Such style! such noble grace of gesture. and when he frowns. they were surrounded. they were in a trap. Why. convincingly. and they rode proudly away on their precious horses to carry their great news home. such energy when he got going! such steady rise. you are an army in your single person." "Yes. they went all to pieces with enthusiasm. whom I saved and brought away. and it will be to your advantage to—" I saw that the usual thing had got a start. for there was I. So I delivered Joan's message and went off to bed. I had seen better riders. they could not escape to the front. old Laxart said.flung my Banner to the breeze and burst out in front of Talbot! Oh." Well. They stood still. and roared out applauses fit to raise the roof and wake the dead. such skilfully calculated approaches to his surprises and explosions. and only adds a colorless and inconsequential detail because it has happened to occur to him in a lazy way. and at our leisure we slaughtered them to a man.

and lost us the rest of that day and the whole of the next. Joan argued. and in speaking of it she was her usual frank self. and on the 25th of July the hostile forces faced each other and made preparation for battle.The vanguard moved out at dawn and took the road. Marcoul and prayed three days. and promising to stand by them. you see. Si je la tiens. they surrendered without a blow. it was only another holiday excursion. English strongholds lined our route. et je ne sais si je la tiendrai. Bedford was on the march against us with his new army by this time. And got how far? Six leagues. and he turned and retreated toward Paris. Then came the Burgundian ambassadors. 257 . Precious time lost—for us. The rest of us took the road at dawn. We could not go on without the King. with bands braying and banners flying. The fifteen-day truce had just been concluded with the Duke of Burgundy. ce sera seulement pour garder l'honneur du roi. Now was our chance. We marched to Bray. reasoned. it would be solely out of tenderness for the King's honor." But in any case. How naive they are! "De cette treve qui a ete faite. implored. and with it his face toward Paris. next morning. that would be to leave him in the conspirators' camp. and we would go and tarry at Gien until he should deliver Paris to us without a fight. the second division followed at eight. Will you believe it? Our poor stick of a King allowed his worthless advisers to persuade him to start back for Gien. Our men were in great spirits. we garrisoned them with Frenchmen and passed on. precious time gained for Bedford. All French children know those famous words. je ne suis pas contente. The King stopped at St. Tremouille was getting in his sly work with the vacillating King. and didn't know whether she would keep it or not. and at last we got under way again. she would not allow the blood royal to be abused. and would keep the army in good order and ready for work at the end of the truce. He would know how to use it. It was not a campaign. that if she kept it. whence he had set out when we first marched for Rheims and the Coronation! And we actually did start back. She furnished them the news herself that the Kin had made this truce. Joan dictated a letter to the citizens of Rheims to encourage them to keep heart in spite of the truce. and so they had their journey for their pains. then the King changed his mind once more. Joan's prediction was verified. she said. but Bedford's good judgment prevailed. She said she was not satisfied with it. July 20th. But Joan was on hand.

that faithful friend and slave of the English. to be so hindered and delayed and baffled. in effect. who would be so glad to see me!" By the 12th of August we were camped near Dampmartin. if we could 258 . and was afraid of our movement against the capital. Charles sent heralds and received the submission of Beauvais. and retired sulking to Senlis. though he had promised us a duel in the open field. talking with her good old faithful friend and servant. but Bedford and all his force got away in the night and went on toward Paris. but his name was to travel round the globe presently. Once. while I spit in fancy upon his grave. The King and the clique were not satisfied with this. the Bastard of Orleans. She was a match for the others. And still the King hung back and was afraid. He was obscure then. Within a few days many strong places submitted—Creil.Poor child. We went against him. Burgundy. though he did his best. these troubled days. The English power was tumbling. to have to fight England. Gournay-sur-Aronde. On the 14th we camped two leagues from Senlis. The Bishop Pierre Cauchon. she said: "Ah. If we could but have had him there to back us with his authority! Bedford had lost heart and decided to waive resistance and go an concentrate his strength in the best and loyalest province remaining to him—Normandy. which had just surrendered. Bedford turned and approached. and hauled down the English flag. and live forever in the curses of France! Bear with me now. and took up a strong position. and at times she was sad and the tears lay near the surface. Pont-Saint-Maxence. Le Neufville-en-Hez. Night shut down. Saintines. but a conspiracy—ah. when the victim that is to be injured is weak and willing. was not able to prevent it. but all our efforts to beguile him out from his intrenchments failed. Chantilly. Denis. Compiegne surrendered. and tend my sheep again with my sister and my brothers. and a French conspiracy all at the same time—it was too bad. On the 23d Joan gave command to move upon Paris. 1429. under the walls of Paris. Joan camped at St. and had hopes of a big battle on the morrow. It grieved her. Later we had a brush with Bedford's rear-guard. turning out the English garrison and hoisting our own flag. if it might but please God to let me put off this steel raiment and go back to my father and my mother. crash after crash! And still the King sulked and disapproved. Remy. nobody is a match for that. Moguay. On the 26th of August. Ah. We entered Compiegne the 18th of August. Choisy. Let him look our for the morning! But in the morning he was gone again.

only have persuaded the King to come and countenance us with his presence and approval at this supreme moment! 259 .

saying it must win. Preparations had now been made to defend the city. Joan ordered the attack for eight o'clock next morning. and it was carried by storm. The Duke d'Alencon went to him and got his promise again. then he came. and our men fell back instantly and almost in a panic—for what were they without her? She was the army. When it was sufficiently crippled the assault was sounded at noon. and the missiles flying over us and through us as thick as hail. herself. but she and her generals considered them plenty good enough yet. Nine days were lost thus. arriving at St. which he broke again. But her spirits were at the very top notch. Joan's chances had been diminished. with the battle-light rising in her eyes. She could have kept her word. Although disabled. Then we moved forward to storm the gate itself. Honor. Denis September 7th. and begged that a new assault be made. but didn't. She said she would be carried before the gate in the morning. and adding. Joan in the lead with her standard at her side.Chapter 40 Treachery Conquers Joan COURIER after courier was despatched to the King. now. and at that hour it began. But she forgot one factor—the King. Joan placed her artillery and began to pound a strong work which protected the gate St. shadow of that substance named La Tremouille. About this there was no doubt. and he promised to come. the smoke enveloping us in choking clouds. Meantime the enemy had begun to take heart: the spiritless conduct of the King could have no other result. "I will take Paris now or die!" She had to be carried away by force. and in half an hour Paris would be ours without any question. She was brimming with enthusiasm. The King forbade the attempt! 260 . In the midst of our last assault. she refused to retire. which would have carried the gate sure and given us Paris and in effect France. and hurled ourselves against it again and again. and this was done by Gaucourt and the Duke d'Alencon. Joan was struck down by a crossbow bolt.

and another sham private trade of some sort was on foot. She dragged herself out of bed a day later with a new hope.You see. Grand combinations. in which he had agreed to leave Paris unthreatened and unmolested. work suitable for subalterns. a new Embassy had just come from the Duke of Burgundy. "It could have been taken!—it could have been taken!" which were the only ones she said." There was no explanation. and not requiring the supervision of a sublime military genius. for the future. As usual. They did not say why. far-reaching great military moves were at an end. Tremouille wanted to keep her where he could balk and hinder her. Ah. We only know this. Several times the watchers heard muffled sobs from the dark room where she lay at St. when the truce should end. there were French strongholds to be watched and preserved. Because of the pain of her wound and the pain at her heart she slept little that night. and went and asked the King to relieve her of her functions and let her go home. D'Alencon had thrown a bridge across the Seine near St. You would know. The truce did not embrace all France. the war would be merely a war of random and idle skirmishes. she had a spirit. and go back to the Loire whence he had come! Joan of Arc. "Remain at St. Joan had to submit—because she was wounded and helpless. it took precedence of the command of the King. 261 . without my telling you. that if she could have obeyed. She was too tremendous a force to be left to herself. He beguiled the King to use compulsion. and many times the grieving words. that slender girl! a spirit to brave all earthly powers and defy them. We shall never know why the Voices ordered her to stay. Really. that Joan's heart was nearly broken. Now came her Voices again. Might she not cross by that and assault Paris at another point? But the King got wind of it and broke the bridge down! And more—he declared the campaign ended! And more still—he had made a new truce and a long one. Denis. he would need her. who had never been defeated by the enemy. she was wise. she would surely defeat all his plans. But that filled La Tremouille with dread. That was the voice of God. In the Great Trial she said she was carried away against her will. you see. She hung up her white armor in the royal basilica of St. It had struck its first blow now. Denis. Joan resolved to stay. Denis. now. They said. was defeated by her own King. and that if she had not been wounded it could not have been accomplished. apparently. She had said once that all she feared for her cause was treachery. Denis. But the King would not let her go.

and pity. the spectators were few. all the way. dreary funeral march. the unconquerable.the history of France would not be as it now stands written in the books. 262 . and the massed multitudes shouting and praising and giving us godspeed. that is what it was. we had no welcome but the welcome of silence. Yes. the day was dark. one noted that detail. Joan of Arc. There was a dull rain falling now. Then the King disbanded that noble army of heroes. bands playing. and tears. It was a funeral march. We reached Gien at last—that place whence we had set out on our splendid march toward Rheims less than three months before. with flags flying. sad and spiritless. La Tremouille wore the victor's crown. it furled its flags. it stored its arms: the disgrace of France was complete. friends looking on in tears. enemies laughing. On the 13th of September the army. with never a shout or a cheer. the victory-flush of Patay glowing in our faces. turned its face toward the Loire. and marched—without music! Yes. was conquered. well we know that. A long. the heavens mourned.

and the King made her open her fist and take away her foot. She was the sort that endure in silence. at intervals. In fancy she moved bodies of men from this and that and the other point. she was privileged. nothing further was required of her. of course. the time required for each body. France was full of rovers—disbanded soldiers ready for anything that might turn up. and lost herself in it. when Joan's dull captivity 263 . But—she was a caged eagle just the same. and the nature of the country to be traversed. and the planning of now forever unrealizable military combinations for entertainment. and pined for the free air and the alpine heights and the fierce joys of the storm. and showed a most kind and constant anxiety in this matter. and his gay and showy and dancing and flirting and hawking and frolicking and serenading and dissipating court—drifting from town to town and from castle to castle—a life which was pleasant to us of the personal staff. and the Hundred Years' War under her heel. The King did his sincerest best to make her happy. as others play chess. and so got repose for her mind and healing for her heart. Several times. IT was as I have said: Joan had Paris and France in her grip.Chapter 41 The Maid Will March No More YES. She played it hour after hour. she only saw it. she made herself a hermit. then. so calculating the distances to be covered. she didn't live it. She never complained. but not to Joan. However. her only relief from her burden of sorrow and inaction. but she was free. It was her only game. It was not her way. Naturally. All others had to go loaded with the chains of an exacting court etiquette. with her thoughts and devotions for company. So that she paid her duty to the King once a day and passed the pleasant word. as to have them appear in sight of each other on a given day or at a given hour and concentrate for battle. and grieved the weary days through in her own apartments. Now followed about eight months of drifting about with the King and his council.

Now and then other such affairs. We were challenged only once. where we charged the intrenched Burgundians through the open field four times. till at last the tempest of missiles rained so intolerably thick that old D'Aulon. be driven back again and again. 1430. just as the gray dawn was breaking in the east. It was like old times. Old D'Aulon thought her mind was wandering. sounded the retreat (for the King had charged him on his head to let no harm come to Joan). Then there was the affair near Lagny. We started at midnight. there were we of the staff still hammering away. for we had to slip through the enemy's lines. and got through without any accident. About three or half past we reached Compiegne. to my thinking. we were in the neighborhood of Compiegne. in the level plain. the last time victoriously. and I held on to him and was safe enough. but always rally and charge anew. but when he turned and looked. but held our breath and crept steadily and stealthily along. she was allowed to gather a troop of cavalry and make a health-restoring dash against the enemy. to see her lead assault after assault. in a sullen downpour of warm rain. and was not able to ride without help. I had been wounded lately. there at Saint-Pierre-le-Moutier. but. and at last. I have fifty-thousand. the best prize of it Franquet d'Arras. saying she was mad to stay there with only a dozen men. away toward the end of May. we made no answer. and Joan resolved to go to the help of that place. These things were a bath to her spirits. but all she meant was. and the fortress was ours. all in a blaze of eagerness and delight. and will never budge till this place is taken! "Sound the charge!" Which he did. who was posted in three bodies on the other side of the Oise. and concerted a plan with Guillaume de Flavy. truer word was never said. which was being besieged by the Duke of Burgundy. that she felt the might of fifty thousand men surging in her heart. Joan set to work at once. and over the walls we went. Her eye danced merrily. It was a fanciful expression. but the good Dwarf took me on behind him. captain of the city—a plan for a sortie toward evening against the enemy. who was wounded.grew too heavy to bear. the free-booter and pitiless scourge of the region roundabout. and went slowly and softly and in dead silence. and away everybody rushed after him—as he supposed. From our side one of the city gates communicated with a 264 . wherefore he rode back and urged her to come. and she turned upon him crying out: "A dozen men! name of God.

Joan rallied her men and charged again. and plenty of it. Joan heartened her men with inspiring words and led them to the charge again in great style. which stretched from its front across the plain to the village of Marguy. and was again rolled back. the rest was told me long afterward by our two knights and other eye-witnesses. Two assaults occupy a good deal of time—and time was precious here. A kind of bow-and-arrow arrangement. and from there I saw much that happened. Clairoix at the other. another was camped at Clairoix. for the Duke of Burgundy lay behind Clairoix with a reserve. then face to the rear and be ready for heavy work. and I could see it flap and flare and rise and fall like a little patch of white flame. Then she turned at once to the right and plunged into the plan and struck the Clairoix force. the boulevard at the feather-end of it. This time she carried Marguy with a hurrah. Joan's plan was to go straight per causeway against Marguy. Then she saw the other Burgundians moving down from Clairoix. The end of this bridge was defended on the other side of the river by one of those fortresses called a boulevard. but the boulevard opened fire on them and they were checked. Marguy at the barb. A force of Burgundians occupied Marguy. the two armies hurling 265 . and a body of English was holding Venette. and one could see far and wide over that plain. At four in the afternoon Joan moved out at the head of six hundred cavalry—on her last march in this life! It breaks my heart. up to the right. Flavy's lieutenant. swiftly and in handsome order. I had got myself helped up onto the walls. the sunlight flashing from its arms. carry it by assault. It was the 24th of May. Joan crossed the bridge. then turn swiftly upon Clairoix.bridge. you see. the causeway the arrow. Also. Soon we saw the English force advancing. and soon left the boulevard behind her and went skimming away over the raised road with her horsemen clattering at her heels. and capture that camp in the same way. Joan crashed into the Burgundians at Marguy and was repulsed. She had on a brilliant silver-gilt cape over her armor. then there was heavy work. Venette at one end of the bow. with archers and the artillery of the boulevard. a fleet of covered boats was to be stationed near the boulevard as an additional help in case a retreat should become necessary. It was a bright day. a couple of miles above the raised road. which was just arriving. a mile and a half below it. was to keep the English troops from coming up from below and seizing the causeway and cutting off Joan's retreat in case she should have to make one. The English were approaching the road now from Venette. and this boulevard also commanded a raised road.

the latter behind their prey.each other backward turn about and about. was seized by her cape and dragged from her horse. but she refused. they would not give up. but it did no good. they bravely fought a hopeless fight. Both of our good knights went down disabled. The awful news started instantly on its round. they came to their honorable end. Peace to their memories! they were very dear to me. and the sword of the other. The little personal guard around her thinned swiftly. Old D'Aulon begged her to retreat while there was yet a chance for safety. Some say one thing caused it. some say the rear ranks got the idea that Joan was killed. and there. an enemy gasped and died. Some say the cannonade made our front ranks think retreat was being cut off by the English. still defiant. then Noel Rainguesson—all wounded while loyally sheltering Joan from blows aimed at her. and where the ax of one fell. a pair of steel towers streaked and splashed with blood. the former in front. and wherever it came it struck the people as with a sort of paralysis. good simple souls. they divided and swept by her like a wave. and victory inclining first to the one. consequently the English and Burgundians closed in in safety. and after her followed the victorious army roaring its joy. Clear to the boulevard the French were washed in this enveloping inundation. ordered the gate to be closed and the drawbridge raised. crying to them that victory was sure. and sank down one by one. Joan tried to rally them and face them around. that wild confusion of frenzied men and horses—and the artillery had to stop firing. "The Maid of Orleans taken!… Joan of Arc a prisoner!… the savior of France lost to us!"—and would keep saying that 266 . Anyway our men broke. This shut Joan out. of course. Now all of a sudden thee was a panic on our side. When only the Dwarf and the Paladin were left. as if they were talking to themselves. from lip to lip it flew. some another. Then there was a cheer and a rush. but stood their ground stoutly. and loyal to their duty to the last. or in their sleep. And so fighting. cornered in an angle formed by the flank of the boulevard and the slope of the causeway. watching from the city wall. so he seized her horse's bridle and bore her along with the wreck and ruin in spite of herself. then to the other. And so along the causeway they came swarming. and they murmured over and over again. still laying about her with her sword. and went flying in a wild rout for the causeway. Flavy. She was borne away a prisoner to the Duke of Burgundy's camp. and Joan. Joan's two brothers fell wounded.

poor creatures! You know what a city is like when it is hung from eaves to pavement with rustling black? Then you know what Rouse was like. nobody can tell you that. and. and some other cities. poor dumb things. and wonderful military drama that has been played upon the stage of the world. but it was there—indeed. But can any man tell you what the mourning in the hearts of the peasantry of France was like? No. and pathetic. 267 . yes. Joan of Arc will march no more. they could not have told you themselves.over. or how God could permit it. We will draw down the curtain now upon the most strange. as if they couldn't understand how it could be. Why. it was the spirit of a whole nation hung with crape! The 24th of May.

Part 3 Trial and Martyrdom 268 .

it would magnify it and make it permanent. and for a forcible reason: the Church was not only able to take the life of Joan of Arc. But. not the King. Was that reptile Tremouille busy at the King's ear? All we know is. the only power in France that they considered formidable. If the Church could be brought 269 . but it is true. For a while I was not much troubled. that the King was silent. and the glad English and Burgundians deafened the world all the day and all the night with the clamor of their joy-bells and the thankful thunder of their artillery. The news of the capture reached Paris the day after it happened. and the next day the Vicar-General of the Inquisition sent a message to the Duke of Burgundy requiring the delivery of the prisoner into the hands of the Church to be tried as an idolater. there was alacrity enough in another quarter. The Church was being used as a blind. The English had seen their opportunity. she was a legitimately constituted soldier. not the Church. But day after day dragged by and no ransom was offered! It seems incredible. but to blight her influence and the valorbreeding inspiration of her name. for I was expecting every day to hear that Joan had been put to ransom. whereas the English power could but kill her body. and made no offer and no effort in behalf of this poor girl who had done so much for him. Joan of Arc was the only power in France that the English did not despise. a disguise. and guilty of no crime known to military law. and it was the English power that was really acting. that would not diminish or destroy the influence of her name. By the laws of war she could not be denied the privilege of ransom. if ransom were proffered. and that the King—no. She was not a rebel. head of the armies of France by her King's appointment. therefore she could not be detained upon any pretext. unhappily.Chapter 1 The Maid in Chains I CANNOT bear to dwell at great length upon the shameful history of the summer and winter following the capture. but grateful France—had come eagerly forward to pay it.

she was in a fever at once to fly to our rescue. The Duke of Burgundy listened—but waited. He was a French prince. He claimed the right to preside over Joan's ecclesiastical trial because the battle-ground where she was taken was within his diocese. it was pitiful.000 livres of gold. not even children of seven years of age. meantime neither eating nor drinking. So she tore her bedclothes to strips and tied them together and descended this frail rope in the night. He was partly promised the Archbishopric of Rouen. were dickering for her as one would dicker for a horse or a slave. It must be accepted when offered. which is 61. under cover of the Church. He could not doubt that the French King or the French people would come forward presently and pay a higher price than the English. the King silent. Then she was sent to Beaurevoir. The English at once sent a French bishop—that forever infamous Pierre Cauchon of Beauvais. and continued to wait. And yet when she heard at last that Compiegne was being closely besieged and likely to be captured. It was a good time for a new bid to be made for Joan of Arc. Yet with all his waiting no offer came to him from the French side. it was believed that the English supremacy could be at once reinstated. It shows in a 270 . led by the Count of Vendome. and remained three days insensible. He kept Joan a close prisoner in a strong fortress. Here she was shut up in the top of a tower which was sixty feet high. a witch. and Compiegne was saved and the siege raised. and it broke. and she fell and was badly bruised. He had to save money now. sent from Satan. She ate her heart there for another long stretch—about three months and a half. This was a disaster to the Duke of Burgundy. week after week. or to proclaim her an idolater. a heretic. and was caught and brought back. and that the enemy had declared that no inhabitant of it should escape massacre. and not only slipped out of her prison. And she was aware. all her friends the same. By the military usage of the time the ransom of a royal prince was 10. it could not be refused. Cauchon brought the offer of this very sum from the English—a royal prince's ransom for the poor little peasant-girl of Domremy. all these weary five months of take her life. Yes. if he should succeed. And now came relief to us. but locked him up in it. But as she fled away she was seen by a sentinel. a stronger castle.125 francs—a fixed sum. which was vacant. This was early in August. One day Joan played a cunning truck on her jailer. you see. not from heaven. and she had been in captivity more than two months now. and was at heart ashamed to sell her to the English. that the English. and that France was silent.

what a Frenchman's face was like. You will remember that whenever Joan was not at the front. enemies who hungered for her life as being the only puissance able to stand between English triumph and French degradation. How do I account for this? I think there is only one way. enemies who had forgotten. they swept everything before them. enemies who had lashed and thrashed and thumped and trounced France for a century and made holiday sport of it. that whenever she led. It was accepted. and. that free spirit! Still France made no move. The place was strongly garrisoned. its population had been under English dominion so many generations that they were hardly French now. years and years ago. her record was spotless. She must be tried by priests for crimes against religion. to the enemies of her country. It was in the heart of the English power. 1430. She could not be called to account for anything under that head. and clothed in chains. If none could be discovered. She was too great for that—she was Joan of Arc. A subterfuge must be found. was found. I argue from this that they had undergone no real transformation as yet. With her gone. that at bottom they were still under the spell of a timorousness born of generations of unsuccess. everything was gone. Yes. new-born in her nation by the breath of her spirit. For that sum Joan of Arc. so used were they to seeing nothing but his back. And she—what did she say? Nothing. the French held back and ventured nothing. Joan was taken there near the end of December. save in language. with the French King and the French nation standing thankless by and saying nothing. some must be invented. Let the miscreant Cauchon alone to contrive those. sold to her enemies. and when that is said. Rouen was chosen as the scene of the trial. whom she had taught to respect French valor. and upon her alone. was sold. as we have seen. The soldiery found that they could depend utterly on Joan. so long as they could see her white armor or her banner. and flung into a dungeon. all is said. Sold to a French priest by a French prince. enemies whom she had whipped. As a soldier.striking way the English idea of her formidable importance. She was 271 . that every time she fell wounded or was reported killed—as at Compiegne—they broke in panic and fled like sheep. Not a reproach passed her lips. the Savior of France. and these in turn were treacherous to the head of the state and to each other. whom she had cowed. and a lack of confidence in each other and in their leaders born of old and bitter experience in the way of treacheries of all sorts—for their kings had been treacherous to their great vassals and to their generals.

with that sun removed. 272 . incapable of thought.the sun that melted the frozen torrents and set them boiling. mere dead corpses—that and nothing more. ambition. hope. and the army and all France became what they had been before. or motion. they froze again.

you see. and thinks it is better and higher than the other animals. his real and imaginary battles all fought. On the night of the 25th the besiegers decamped. My luck had turned. now gone silent forever. on the 23d. "Always the pet child of luck! 273 . for I was young and had not yet found out the littleness and meanness of our poor human race. "And think of his luck!" burst out Noel. We talked of the personal staff. "What? Alive? Noel Rainguesson!" It was indeed he.Chapter 2 Joan Sold to the English MY WOUND gave me a great deal of trouble clear into the first part of October. I was wounded again. and in the disorder and confusion one of their prisoners escaped and got safe into Compiegne. that you will easily know. All this time there were reports drifting about that the King was going to ransom Joan. It was a most joyful meeting. with his eyes full of tears." but we could not speak the name. and also as sad as it was joyful. we could say "she" and "her. and in the second one. Old D'Aulon. and hobble into my room as pallid and pathetic an object as you would wish to see. Pierre Cauchon. Noel was full of noble and affectionate praises and appreciations of our old boastful big Standard-Bearer. We could not speak Joan's name. One's voice would have broken down. was still with Joan and serving her. I believed these. Joan was being treated with respect due to her rank and to her character as a prisoner of war taken in honorable conflict. And this was continued—as we learned later—until she fell into the hands of that bastard of Satan. which brags about itself so much. wounded and a prisoner. his work done. In October I was well enough to go out with two sorties. then the fresher weather renewed my life and strength. by permission of the Duke of Burgundy. his life honorably closed and completed. Bishop of Beauvais. We knew who was meant when she was mentioned.

as long as any shred of it hangs together. we who have also earned our place with the happy dead?" And presently he said: "They tore the sacred Standard from his dead hand and carried it away. But they haven't it now. and carried off. in the beginning called the Paladin in joke. from his first step all through. died faithful to his charge the Standard in his hand. and we were aghast—Joan of Arc sold to the English! Not for a moment had we ever dreamed of such a thing. It will still be there. as I have said before. What luck. and did not know the human race. A month ago we put our lives upon the risk—our two good knights. 4. We were young. Up to a quarter of a century ago there was a single hair from her head still in existence. and there it is now. what luck! And we? What was our sin that we are still here. and got it smuggled by trusty hands to Orleans.4 Two or three weeks after this talk came the tremendous news like a thunder-clap. and I—and stole it. A boulder exists from which she is known to have mounted her horse when she was once setting out upon a campaign. by some vandal relichunter. sacredly guarded by French love." I was glad and grateful to learn that. Louis de Conte. and called it afterward in earnest because he magnificently made the title good. and at last—supremest luck of all—died in the field! died with his harness on.It remained there three hundred and sixty years. It was surreptitiously snipped out. her pen being guided by a clerk or her secretary. but only the thief knows where. safe for all time in the Treasury. several suits of state apparel. blessedly spared all part in the disaster which was to follow. It was drawn through the wax of a seal attached to the parchment of a state document. always having a chance to do fine things and always doing them. Nothing which the hand of Joan of Arc is known to have touched now remains in existence except a few preciously guarded military and state papers which she signed. and went jubilant to his peace. I have seen it often since. and then was destroyed in a public bonfire. courted and envied everywhere. Doubtless it still exists. a thousand years from now—yes. — TRANSLATOR."See how it followed him and stayed by him. their most precious prize after its captured owner. and other relics of the Maid. think of it—with the approving eye of Joan of Arc upon him! "He drained the cup of glory to the last drop. in the field or out of it. you see. died—oh. by a mob in the time of the Revolution. 274 . together with two swords. always a splendid figure in the public eye. when I have gone to Orleans on the 8th of May to be the petted old guest of the city and hold the first place of honor at the banquets and in the processions—I mean since Joan's brothers passed from this life. a plumed cap. seal and all. my fellow-prisoners.

We seemed able to choose our own route and go whenever we pleased. We had expected little of the King. and absently. so sure of her nobleness. Then we got ashore. It was my own mood. we could but do our best. to breathe the air that she breathed. and not weary ourselves out with land travel. Everybody knew that in various towns patriot priests had been marching in procession urging the people to sacrifice money. We presently saw that we could take to the Seine. Nobody could enter or leave the city without explaining himself. property. When Joan of Arc was in the field there was a sort of panic of fear everywhere. Our hearts were in Rouen. But it was all over now. where it is as level as a floor. We were company for each other. in January. like one in a dream. That the money would be raised we had not thought of doubting. The heavens seemed hung with black. that was best. Was this comrade here at my bedside really Noel Rainguesson. no. It was a bitter time for us. And so we started. her magnanimity. everything. that Noel I was to see no more. We could not help her. everybody was indifferent. 275 . This one's heart was broken." There was no need to explain. and were carried in a boat to within a league of Rouen. What if we should be made prisoners there? Well. all over. He moved grieving about. He nursed me patiently through the dull long weeks. that lighthearted creature whose whole life was but one long joke. Then he said: "Shall we go now?" "Yes. unchallenged and unmolested. but on the other. It was because they feared attempts at a rescue of Joan. fear had vanished. her gratitude. nobody was curious about you or your business. but of France we had expected everything. and who used up more breath in laughter than in keeping his body alive? No. So we did it. all cheer went out from our hearts. All that we cared for in this life was shut up in that fortress. but it would be some solace to us to be near her. not on the hilly side. I was strong enough to go about again. Nobody was troubled about you or afraid of you. but now that she was out of the way. and at last. we would carry our bodies there. and buy the freedom of their heavensent deliverer.We had been so proud of our country. Well. We could not realize the change which had come upon the country. the stream of his laughter was dried at its source. and look daily upon the stone walls that hid her. and let luck and fate decide what should happen.

Then we came out frankly and told them everything. and making friends of them.We had no trouble. helping them with their work for board and lodging. 276 . It was to help them drive a flock of sheep to the market of the city. When we had worked our way through their reserves and gotten their confidence. Our friends had friends living over a humble wine shop in a quaint tall building situated in one of the narrow lanes that run down from the cathedral to the river. and with these they bestowed us. We got clothes like theirs. One morning early we made the venture in a melancholy drizzle of rain. and passed through the frowning gates unmolested. and wore them. and was quite simple. and the next day they smuggled our own proper clothing and other belongings to us. The family that lodged us—the Pieroons—were French in sympathy. we found that they secretly harbored French hearts in their bodies. and found them ready to do anything they could to help us. and we needed to have no secrets from them. Our plan was soon made. We stopped in the plain with a family of peasants and stayed a week.

It was a strange position for me—clerk to the recorder—and dangerous if my sympathies and the late employment should be found out. and he said squarely that this court had no power to try the case.Chapter 3 Weaving the Net About Her IT WAS necessary for me to have some way to gain bread for Noel and myself. out of January and into February. I attended Manchon constantly straight along. wherefore he refused to act. for I had discarded my surname and retained only my given one. the applied to their confessor in my behalf. and was often in the citadel with him—in the very fortress where Joan was imprisoned. and he got a place for me with a good priest named Manchon. The Inquisitor was right. until he was able to construct a formidable court numbering half a hundred distinguished names. Manchon was at bottom friendly to Joan and would not betray me. and he had scraped together a clergyman of like stripe and great fame here and there and yonder. and decided in her favor. of course. but their interests and sympathies were English. Manchon told me everything that had been happening before my coming. and when the Pierrons found that I knew how to write. and so did not see her. though not in the dungeon where she was confined. The case as here resurrected against Joan had already been tried long ago at Poitiers. But there was not much danger. A great officer of the Inquisition was also sent from Paris for the accused must be tried by the forms of the Inquisition. Ever since the purchase of Joan. like a person of low degree. 277 . French names they were. and my name would not. who was to be the chief recorder in the Great Trial of Joan of Arc now approaching. but this was a brave and righteous man. Cauchon had been busy packing his jury for the destruction of the Maid—weeks and weeks he had spent in this bad industry. Yes. The University of Paris had sent him a number of learned and able and trusty ecclesiastics of the stripe he wanted. and the same honest talk was uttered by two or three others.

the case could not properly be tried again. a court of higher authority. Cauchon could not properly preside in this new court. friendlessness. by his representative. for more than one reason: Rouen was not in his diocese. he was to have her back again! Ah. but with this reservation: if the court failed to condemn her. Then the pride and dignity of the soldier rose in Joan. and he was obliged to submit. Force was also applied to the Inquisitor. and chained to her bed by neck and hands and feet. and she lifted her chained hands and let them fall with a clash. He told her he would get her set free if she would promise not to fight the English any more. The territorial Chapter of Rouen finally granted territorial letters to Cauchon—though only after a struggle and under compulsion. but not long enough to break her spirit. He came with two English earls. Yes. indeed. an can prophesy better. Yet all these large difficulties were gotten rid of. He was a poor reptile. the little English King. It is not so. She had been in that cage a long time now. you but mock me. an iron cage. you see. never a woman at all. formally delivered Joan into the hands of the court. for at the head of it was an Archbishop—he of Rheims—Cauchon's own metropolitan. I know that you have neither the power nor the will to do it." 278 . For she was in a black dungeon. Imagine it! No. Warwick and Stafford.and by a higher tribunal than this one. Joan had not been arrested in her domicile. for they think that when I am dead they can get the Kingdom of France. with half a dozen brutal common soldiers keeping guard night and day in the room where her cage was—for she was in a cage. indeed—it is the right word. So then. She retorted scornfully: "Name of God. Never a person near her whom she had ever seen before. and it was Jean who sold her to the Duke of Burgundy. Now it was a vassal of Jean de Luxembourg who captured Joan and Compiegne. and finally this proposed judge was the prisoner's outspoken enemy. Yet this very De Luxembourg was shameless enough to go and show his face to Joan in her cage. this was." He insisted. what chance was there for that forsaken and friendless child? Friendless. dear. and therefore he was incompetent to try her. "Though there were a hundred thousand of them they would never get it. So here. which was still Domremy. saying: "See these! They know more than you. a lower court was impudently preparing to try and redecide a cause which had already been decided by its superior. I know that the English are going to kill me.

It was a detailed list of the charges against her. But Warwick seized him and held him back. Well. but she begged for this help. for there was none to tell her that. Warwick was wise. Cauchon prepared the proces verbal. pleading her youth and her ignorance of the complexities and intricacies of the law and of legal procedure. Cauchon refused again. No. strong man. she a chained and helpless girl—he drew his dagger and flung himself at her to stab her. No. and the whole nation would rise and march to victory and emancipation under the inspiration of her spirit. she begged that in fairness an equal number of priests of the French party should be added to these. For more than two months Cauchon had been raking and scraping everywhere for any odds and ends of evidence or suspicion or conjecture that might be usable against Joan. and that she could demand it and require it. and he used them all. and carefully suppressing all evidence that came to hand in her favor. When she learned that the court was made up of ecclesiastics in the interest of the English. and with a verdict of death resolved upon before the doors were opened for the court's first sitting. advise her how to answer when questioned. and she was shut up in those stone walls and had no friend to appeal to for help. Ah. But Joan had no one to prepare her case for her. And as for witnesses. the time was approaching for the Great Trial. Take her life in that way? Send her to Heaven stainless and undisgraced? It would make her the idol of France. I will simplify that by calling it the Bill of Particulars. witness for the defense. and would not even deign to answer it. She probably did not know that this was her right. By the law of the Church—she being a minor under twenty-one—it was her right to have counsel to conduct her case. Cauchon refused it. and said she must get along with her case as best she might by herself. she must be saved for another fate than that. She urged and implored. and this was an English court. He had limitless ways and means and powers at his disposal for preparing and strengthening the case for the prosecution. the prisoner must be the sole witness—witness for the prosecution. and he—now think of it—he a free. she could not call a single one in her defense. and protect her from falling into traps set by cunning devices of the prosecution. they were all far away.This defiance infuriated Stafford. his heart was a stone. at any rate. under the French flag. and 279 . they would have been seized and hanged if they had shown their faces at the gates of Rouen. Cauchon scoffed at her message.

the breath of her nostrils to her. He was admitted to Joan's prison by night. They did it again now." Just about the same report that was brought back to Poitiers. He was tall. and other such offenses against religion. he professed to be secretly a patriot. It was merely charged that she was suspected of having been guilty of heresies. She was filled with gladness to see one from the hills and plains that were so dear to her. he pretended to be from her own country. grave. and it promised to be a deadly one. An ecclesiastic was sent to Domremy. There was no seeming of treachery or hypocrisy about him. and she had been long forced to pine for them in vain. But no. you will say. You remember that that was the first thing they did before the trial at Poitiers. She opened her whole innocent heart to this creature. disguised as a cobbler. but Cauchon was awake. happier still to look upon a priest and disburden her heart in confession. handsome. One would imagine that Cauchon was ready to begin the trial by this time. This verdict was a strong point for Joan. it would have been if it could have seen the light. for the offices of the Church were the bread of life. he devised one more scheme for poor Joan's destruction. Now by the law of the Church. One of the great personages picked out and sent down by the University of Paris was an ecclesiastic named Nicolas Loyseleur. what value could this scheme have. and it disappeared from the proces verbal before the trial. he revealed the fact that he was a priest. The searcher reported that he found Joan's character to be in every way what he "would like his own sister's character to be. Joan's was a character which could endure the minutest examination. since the secrets of the confessional are sacred and cannot be revealed? True—but suppose another person should overhear them? That person is not bound to keep 280 . a trial of that sort could not be begun until a searching inquiry had been made into the history and character of the accused. It was very clear. and it was essential that the result of this inquiry be added to the proces verbal and form a part of it. Charges? It was a list of suspicions and public rumors—those were the words used. and in return he gave her advice concerning her trial which could have destroyed her if her deep native wisdom had not protected her against following it. Yes.formed the basis of the trial. There and all about the neighborhood he made an exhaustive search into Joan's history and character. yet he was full of both. of smooth. You will ask. and came back with his verdict. you see. soft speech and courteous and winning manners. witchcraft. People were prudent enough not to inquire what became of it.

281 . that is what happened. Cauchon had previously caused a hole to be bored through the wall. and he stood with his ear to that hole and heard all.the secret. It is pitiful to think of these things. One wonders how they could treat that poor child so. Well. She had not done them any harm.

Bishop of Beauvais. Many times I heard the remark. both going and coming. he came in. Of course I had been expecting such news every day for many days. and I must get ready to assist him. but no matter. while I sat at my master's work in the evening. looking sad. yet as we approached the vast fortress we found crowds of men already there and still others gathering. so that he might be there early and secure a place. But now—now there was no hope. The chapel was already full and the way barred against further admissions of unofficial persons. maybe that God would have pity and stretch forth His mighty hand. in his grand robes. Throned on high sat the president. I suppose that without knowing it I had been half imagining that at the last moment something would happen. the shock of it almost took my breath away and set me trembling like a leaf. All the way. Cauchon. It would give him a chance to look again upon the face which we so revered and which was so precious to us. accompanied by a pitiless laugh: "The fat Bishop has got things as he wants them at last. English soldiers feared Joan. and it was not always a French one. something that would stop this fatal trial. the 20th of February. In the morning Manchon and I went early. So I went sorrowing away and told Noel. I plowed through chattering and rejoicing multitudes of English soldiery and English-hearted French citizens. We took our appointed places. maybe that La Hire would burst in at the gates with his hellions at his back. There was no talk but of the coming event. but they admired her for her great deeds and her unconquerable spirit. and before him in rows sat his robed court—fifty distinguished 282 .Chapter 4 All Ready to Condemn ON TUESDAY." But here and there I glimpsed compassion and distress in a face. The trial was to begin in the chapel of the fortress and would be public. and said it had been decided to begin the trial at eight o'clock the next morning. and says he will lead the vile witch a merry dance and a short one.

breastplate. Yes. but no other creature was near by it. and his cold and malignant eyes—a brute. and how gentle and innocent. of clear-cut intellectual faces. and it stood apart and solitary on a sort of dais. A pathetic little bench to me it was. and shrank and fidgeted in their seats when his eye smote theirs. She would be weary now. She had been languishing in dungeons. When I looked again at that obese president. born child of the sun. practised setters of traps for ignorant minds and unwary feet. There was one unoccupied seat in this place. Suddenly: 283 . and my heart sank down low. All this time there had been a muffled hum of conversation. and his purple and splotchy complexion. despondent. natural comrade of the birds and of all happy free creatures. gathered here to find just one verdict and no other. Tall men-at-arms in morion. every detail of him—my heart sank lower still. how winning and beautiful in the fresh bloom of her seventeen years! Those were grand days. and only one. and rustling of robes and scraping of feet on the floor. and what wonders she had accomplished! But now—oh. And when I noted that all were afraid of this man. in view of every one. for nearly three-quarters of a year—she. men of high degree in the Church. and noted his three chins. veteran adepts in strategy and casuistry. And so recent—for she was just nineteen now—and how much she had seen since. and the sight of it carried my mind back to the great court at Poitiers. and his repulsive cauliflower nose. and worn with this long captivity. puffing and wheezing there. very low. When I looked around upon this army of masters of legal fence. away from light and air and the cheer of friendly faces. as knowing there was no hope. and remembered that Joan must fight for her good name and her life single-handed against them. fold above fold. all was changed now. It was a little wooden bench without a back. for I knew whom it was for. my last poor ray of hope dissolved away and wholly disappeared. her forces impaired.ecclesiastics. and his knobby and knotty face. I asked myself what chance an ignorant poor country-girl of nineteen could have in such an unequal conflict. where Joan sat upon one like it and calmly fought her cunning fight with the astonished doctors of the Church and Parliament. It was over against the wall. a combination of dull noises which filled all the place. and rose from it victorious and applauded by all. What a dainty little figure she was. all was changed. his great belly distending and receding with each breath. perhaps. and went forth to fill the world with the glory of her name. and steel gauntlets stood as stiff as their own halberds on each side of this dais. men of deep learning.

All faces were turned toward the door. it was like a weight upon one. the stillness grew oppressive. I was realizing."Produce the accused!" It made me catch my breath. in actual flesh and blood. that they were about to see. But there was silence now—silence absolute. a world-girdling Name. what had been to them before only an embodied prodigy. all things whirled and spun about me. Ah. too. Deliverer of France. no doubt. far down the stone-paved corridors. for most of the people there suddenly realized. 284 . My heart began to thump like a hammer. The stillness continued. and one could properly expect that. a phrase. in chains! My head swam. one heard a vague slow sound approaching: clank… clink… clank—Joan of Arc. Not a sound. and it was as if they had never been. Then. All those noises ceased. a word.

but were not important enough to go into the official record. intensely black. It was smooth and pure and girlish. a face of gleaming snow set in vivid contrast upon that slender statue of somber unmitigated black.5 To take up my story now where I left off. There will be only this difference: that in talking familiarly with you shall use my right to comment upon the proceedings and explain them as I go along. funereally black.He kept his word. I shall throw in trifles which came under our eyes and have a certain interest for you and me. Presently she appeared. she being weak and her irons heavy. a thrill swept the house. so that you can understand them better. I will give them to you honestly. and slowly lifted her face. But. and just as one may read them in the printed histories. detail by detail. Half-way to her bench she stopped. Another thrill!—it was totally colorless. also. She had on men's attire—all black. and tight thence to her manacled wrists. and one heard deep breaths drawn. infinitely sad and sweet. —TRANSLATOR. No. below the doublet. We heard the clanking of Joan's chains down the corridors. beautiful beyond belief. 285 . just as Manchon and I set them down daily in the official record of the court. His account of the Great Trial will be found to be in strict and detailed accordance with the sworn facts of history. dear! when the challenge of those untamed eyes fell upon that judge. a soft woolen stuff. the sleeves of her doublet were full. tight black hose down to the chains on her ankles. Two guardsmen followed her at a short distance to the rear. A wide collar of this same black stuff lay in radiating folds upon her shoulders and breast. she was approaching. white as snow. Her head was bowed a little. just where a wide shaft of light fell slanting from a window. not a speck of relieving color in it from her throat to the floor. dear. and she moved slowly.Chapter 5 Fifty Experts Against a Novice I GIVE you my honor now that I am not going to distort or discolor the facts of this miserable trial. and the droop vanished from her form and it 5. down to the elbows.

then he required Joan to kneel and make oath that she would answer with exact truthfulness to all questions asked her. Joan said. the only person there who seemed unmoved and unexcited. and I said. smiling friendly. She answered with the simplicity which so often spoiled the enemy's bestlaid plans in the trial at Poitiers. that you will answer true to the questions which shall be asked you!" and he brought down his fat hand with a crash upon his official table. Now the memorable inquisition called in history the Great Trial began. which the judge sternly silence." This incensed the Court. and she. all is well—they have not broken her. Joan was not disturbed. A bronzed and brawny English soldier. with your hands upon the Gospels. He said: "With the divine assistance of our Lord we require you to expedite these proceedings for the welfare of your conscience. did now most gallantly and respectfully put up his great hand and give her the military salute. my Voices have forbidden me to confide them to any save my King—" 286 . Fifty experts against a novice. gathering her chains into her lap and nestling her little white hands there. it was plain to me now that there was one spirit there which this dreaded judge could not quell nor make afraid. but he was so angry that he could hardly get his words out. my heart leaped for joy. Joan's mind was not asleep. she is Joan of Arc still! Yes. you might ask of me things which I would not tell you. for I do not know what you are going to ask me. all is well. Swear. whereat there was a sympathetic little break of applause. they have not conquered her. put up hers and returned it. with composure: "As concerning my father and mother. It suspected that dangerous possibilities might lie hidden under this apparently fair and reasonable demand. Then she waited in tranquil dignity. Cauchon raised his voice and began to speak in the midst of this noise. I will gladly answer. and said: "No.straightened up soldierly and noble. standing at martial ease in the front rank of the citizen spectators. but as regards the revelations which I have received from God. and the faith. and brought out a brisk flurry of angry exclamations. She moved to her place and mounted the dais and seated herself upon her bench. and no one to help the novice! The judge summarized the circumstances of the case and the public reports and suspicions upon which it was based. and what things I have done since my coming into France.

Here there was another angry outburst of threats and expletives. Cauchon asked her her name. The Bishop was still requiring an unmodified oath. The judge and half the court were on their feet in a moment. There was a physical change apparent. so she had to stop. fair lords. whereas Joan was still placid and reposeful and did not seem noticeably tired. and where she was born." At the end of three whole hours of furious debating over the oath. and had a sort of haggard look in their faces. and as she laid her hands upon the Gospels. speak one at a time. they were hoarse. if she were but English. Once she said. Some speeches—speeches that shame a man and humble him—burn themselves into the memory and remain there. After Joan had made oath. The noise quieted down. would have risen to the last man and the last woman. droopy. also what her age 287 . and all storming and vituperating at once. and much movement and confusion. That one is burned into mine. then her waxen face flushed a little and she straightened up and fixed her eye on the judge. But what a stinging rebuke it was. that adoring city. there was a waiting pause of some moments' duration. Joan was refusing for the twentieth time to take any except the one which she had herself proposed. so that you could hardly hear yourself think. Joan sunk at once to her knees. and some questions about her family. she were not in this place another half a second!" It was the soldier in him responding to the soldier in her. the situation had not changed a jot. and because Joan sat untroubled and indifferent they grew madder and noisier all the time. Then the judge surrendered to the prisoner. then I will answer all of you. exhausted by their long frenzy. what an arraignment of French character and French royalty! Would that he could have uttered just that one phrase in the hearing of Orleans! I know that that grateful city. with a fleeting trace of the old-time mischief in her eye and manner: "Prithee. and wait for the noise to subside. but it was confined to the court and judge. and all shaking their fists at the prisoner. and marched upon Rouen. maybe you know what a deliberative body of Frenchmen is like. and with bitterness in his voice told her to take the oath after her own fashion. They kept this up several minutes. and finished her sentence in a voice that had the old ring to it: —"and I will never reveal these things though you cut my head off!" Well. that big English soldier set free his mind: "By God. poor men.

Everybody was tired out by now. Then he asked her how much education she had. "It is the right of every prisoner." Then she added. If I could escape I would not reproach myself. and reminded her that she had broken out of prison twice before. At this point Cauchon forbade Joan to try to escape from prison. upon pain of being held guilty of the crime of heresy—singular logic! She answered simply: "I am not bound by this proposition. and I do want to escape. She answered these. But the Bishop refused. and I shall not. each busy with his own grief and saying not a word. The tribunal prepared to rise. 288 ." Questions of this unessential sort dribbled on for a considerable time. then there could have been trouble for us. betrayed nothing." Then she complained of the burden of her chains. but her face showed nothing. the Ave Maria. Another would have started upon seeing us. of course." And so she went from the place in the midst of an impressive stillness. but they passed on and there was never any ray of recognition in them. She only said. "I have learned from my mother the Pater Noster. What presence of mind she had! One could never surprise her out of it. Her eyes sought us fifty times that day. She saw Noel and me there when she first took her seat on the bench. and asked that they might be removed. for she was strongly guarded in that dungeon and there was no need of them. for I have given no promise. in a way that would touch the pity of anybody. which made the sharper and more distressful to me the clank of those pathetic chains. and the Belief. Joan of Arc was too proud to insist.was. and then—why. I have wanted to escape. as she rose to go with the guard: "It is true. All that I know was taught me by my mother. I think. except Joan. We walked slowly home together. and we flushed to the forehead with excitement and emotion.

yes. and the only person there who showed no signs of the wear and worry of yesterday. The prisoner was brought in. The court had now removed to a noble chamber situated at the end of the great hall of the castle. and if I have made you know her by this time you will know without my telling you that she was not a person likely to ask favors of those people. and Cauchon would not try to repeat this shabby game right away. The matter had gotten abroad and was making great and unpleasant talk. When we arrived at the citadel next morning. whereupon Cauchon curse them and ordered them out of his presence with a threat of drowning. but she was looking no whit worse than she looked when she had first appeared the day before. and ready for the conflict. It comforted me to hear that. Ah. She was as white as ever. and their base work revolted them. The chapel had been found too small. And she had spent the night caged in her wintry dungeon with her chains upon her. Have you seen that veiled deep glow. and none to help her. which was his favorite and most frequent menace. as I say. collected. that was surely the cruelest man and the most shameless that has lived in this world. that pathetic hurt dignity. badgered. baited. you should have seen them and broken your hearts. unworn. yet here she was. And her eyes—ah.Chapter 6 The Maid Baffles Her Persecutors THAT NIGHT Manchon told me that all through the day's proceedings Cauchon had had some clerks concealed in the embrasure of a window who were to make a special report garbling Joan's answers and twisting them from their right meaning. Isn't it a strange thing? Yesterday she had sat five hours on that backless bench with her chains in her lap. and they turned to and boldly made a straight report. we found that a change had been made. The number of judges was increased to sixty-two—one ignorant girl against such odds. persecuted by that unholy crew. without even the refreshment of a cup of water—for she was never offered anything. But his scheme failed. that 289 . Those clerks had human hearts in them.

" Then. the matter is very simple. Not in this world have there been others that were comparable to them. Joan." The Bishop still insisted. a doctor of theology." The Bishop insisted and insisted. just speak up and frankly and truly answer the questions which I am going to ask you. with rising temper. but he could not move her. You could ask me things which I could not tell you—and would not. Such is my opinion." 290 . The Bishop opened thus: "You are required now. reflecting upon how profane and out of character it was for these ministers of God to be prying into matters which had proceeded from His hands under the awful seal of His secrecy. I have done nothing but by revelation. after so much wrangling. and none that had the privilege to see them would say otherwise than this which I have said concerning them. At last she said: "I made oath yesterday.unsubdued and unsubduable spirit that burns and smolders in the eye of a caged eagle and makes you feel mean and shabby under the burden of its mute reproach? Her eyes were like that. Joan but shook her head and remained silent. it is sufficient. to answer truly all questions asked you. and devastating storms and lightnings. my lord. let that suffice. she added. "Of a truth. Now notice the form of this sleek strategist's first remark—flung out in an easy. at all times and in all circumstances they could express as by print every shade of the wide range of her moods. and how wonderful! Yes. "If you were well informed concerning me you would wish me out of your hands. to take the oath pure and simple. as you have sworn to do." Then she sighed and said. Joan was not asleep. with a warning note in her tone. She said: "No. you do burden me too much. should you think? Exactly as it began before—with that same tedious thing which had been settled once. How capable they were." Joan replied placidly: "I have made oath yesterday. She saw the artifice. At last he gave it up and turned her over for the day's inquest to an old hand at tricks and traps and deceptive plausibilities—Beaupere. offhand way that would have thrown any unwatchful person off his guard: "Now. And how did it begin. The seance began. In them were hidden floods of gay sunshine. still commanded. the softest and peacefulest twilights." It was a failure.

Then: "Had you other occupations at home?" "Yes. for Beaupere began to touch upon Joan's Voices." Then the invincible soldier. Beaupere asked other questions." Or. under cover of innocent and unimportant questions. and began an approach from another quarter. and said with naive complacency. but one could hardly notice it. He would slip upon her. deliverer of Orleans. and finally repeated a question which she had refused to answer a little while back—as to whether she had received the Eucharist in those days at other festivals than that of Easter. As for me. I helped my mother in the household work and went to the pastures with the sheep and the cattle. to sew and to spin. Joan merely said: "Passez outre. a matter of consuming interest and curiosity to everybody.Beaupere changed his attack." Her voice trembled a little. His purpose was to trick her into heedless sayings that could indicate that the Voices had sometimes given her evil advice—hence that they had come from Satan. you see. "Pass on to matters which you are privileged to pry into. Beaupere cautiously edged along up with other questions toward the forbidden ground. and easily embarrassed. I am not afraid to be matched against any woman in Rouen!" The crowd of spectators broke out with applause—which pleased Joan—and there was many a friendly and petting smile to be seen. as one might say. and an easy prey—yes. conqueror of the lion Talbot. straightened herself proudly up." Presently the house pricked up its ears and began to listen eagerly. it brought those old enchanted days flooding back to me. "When did you first hear these Voices?" 291 . witnesses are but dull creatures. that would send her to the stake in brief order. and that was the deliberate end and aim of this trial. commander-in-chief of a nation's armies. gave her head a little toss. victor of Patay. easily frightened—but truly one can neither scare this child nor find her dozing. you see. restorer of a king's crown. "And when it comes to that. "Did you learn any trade at home?" "Yes. and I could not see what I was writing for a little while. To have dealing with the devil—well. But Cauchon stormed at the people and warned them to keep still and mind their manners." I heard a member of the court say to a neighbor: "As a rule.

" "Was that all?" "No. I was to go to Vaucouleurs. therefore I could not abide at home any longer." "In what species of form did the Voice appear?" Joan looked suspiciously at he priest a moment. I was frightened. The third time I heard it I recognized it as being an angel's. and began her march. 'Go to France'." "What advice did it give you as to the salvation of your soul?" "It told me to live rightly. and Robert de Baudricourt would give me soldiers to go with me to France.'" "Did you father know about your departure?" "No. I will not tell you. and I thought it was sent to me from God." "From what direction did it come?" "From the right—from toward the church." "What did the Voice sound like?" "It was a noble Voice. And it told me that I must go to France. It was always clear. When I came into France I often heard the Voices very loud. It came at midday." Then she told how she was balked and interrupted at Vaucouleurs. and I answered. saying that I was a poor girl who did not know how to ride. neither how to fight. it was meet and no scandal to 292 ." "Did the Voice seek you often?" "Yes. saying." "What else did it say?" "That I should raise the siege of Orleans." "The day before?" "No." "You could understand it?" "Quite easily. "How were you dressed?" The court of Poitiers had distinctly decided and decreed that as God had appointed her to do a man's work. but finally got her soldiers. and be regular in attendance upon the services of the Church. in my father's garden in the summer."I was thirteen when I first heard a Voice coming from God to help me to live well. indeed yes." "Had you been fasting?" "Yes. then said. Twice or three times a week. 'Leave your village and go to France." "Did it come with a bright light?" "Oh. tranquilly: "As to that. It was brilliant. The Voice said.

also a sword which Robert de Baudricourt gave me. She refused again." "When were you wounded?" "I was wounded in the moat before Paris. All that happened at that time was gone over. "Did your Voice advise it?" Joan merely answered placidly: "I believe my Voice gave me good advice. She answered: "It required me to remain behind at St. and let happen what may!'" (Advienne que pourra!) After a good deal of questioning upon other matters she was asked again about her attire. but no matter. She said she chose out the King. even broken and discredited ones." "Who was it that advised you to wear the dress of a man?" Joan was suspicious again." "What do you ask of them?" "I have never asked of them any recompense but the salvation of my soul. She would not answer. "What did Baudricourt say to you when you left?" "He made them that were to go with me promise to take charge of me. so the questions wandered to other matters. but I was helpless by my wound. Denis." The next question reveals what Beaupere had been leading up to: "Was it a feast-day?" 293 . "I wore a man's dress. The question was repeated. "Answer. Finally: "Do you still hear those Voices?" "They come to me every day. and much was going to be made of this one before this trial should end. in the assault. It is a command!" "Passez outre." "Did the Voice always urge you to follow the army?" He is creeping upon her again. who was unknown to her. and the knights carried me away by force. I would have obeyed if I had been free. 'Go." It was all that could be got out of her." was all she said. this court was ready to use any and all weapons against Joan. and finally to her first meeting with the King at Chinon. by the revelation of her Voices.religion that she should dress as a man. She said it was necessary for her to dress as a man. So Beaupere gave up the matter for the present. and to me he said. but no other weapon.

as when one brushes away a fly." Smiles danced for a moment in some of the sternest faces there. and was cruelly fatigued. and was empty. the others by force of her best and surest helper. and several men even laughed outright. then. then.You see? The suggestion that a voice coming from God would hardly advise or permit the violation. Most of the time had been taken up with apparently idle and purposeless inquiries about the Chinon events. upon sworn testimony. There was immediate silence in the court and intense expectancy noticeable all about. The trap had been long and laboriously prepared. Recalling these miserable proceedings which I have been telling you about. the clear vision and lightning intuitions of her extraordinary mind. "Now. and laid upon the verdict and conduct of our Rouen tribunal the blight of its everlasting execrations. It had sat for hours. what it was like from the first day to the last. Manchon and several of the judges who had been members of our court were among the witnesses who appeared before that Tribunal of Rehabilitation. and whose just verdict cleared her illustrious name from every spot and stain. then she answered yes. this daily baiting and badgering of this friendless girl. some by the protecting luck which attends upon ignorance and innocence. it was a feastday. long time—dignified sport. and said with reposeful indifference: "Passez outre. When poor Joan had been in her grave a quarter of a century. Joan was troubled a moment. The court rose. the Pope called together that great court which was to re-examine her history. but all this seemingly random stuff had really been sown thick with hidden traps. and so on. Now. some by happy accident. was to continue a long. But Joan disappointed the house. of a sacred day. by war and bloodshed. a kennel of mastiffs and bloodhounds harassing a kitten!—and I may as well tell you. She merely made a slight little motion with her hand. it fell. Joan's first proclamation. They wearied her with long and multiplied interrogatories 294 . all in fair print in the unofficial history: When Joan spoke of her apparitions she was interrupted at almost every word. the exiled Duke of Orleans. a captive in chains. tell the this: did you hold it right to make the attack on such a day?" This was a shot which might make the first breach in a wall which had suffered no damage thus far. But Joan had fortunately escaped them all. Manchon testified thus:—here you have it.

She gave her responses with great prudence. they are talking about a tedious long procession of days: They asked her profound questions. indeed to such a degree that during three weeks I believed she was inspired. yes. had she a mind such as I have described? You see what these priests say under oath—picked men. of the sixty-two trained adepts. They make that poor country-girl out the match.upon all sorts of things. their keen and practised intellects. men chosen for their places in that terrible court on account of their learning. Sometimes the questioners changed suddenly and passed on to another subject to see if she would not contradict herself. which lasted two or three hours. From the snares with which she was beset the expertest man in the world could not have extricated himself but with difficulty. Ah. Remember. Moment by moment they skipped from one subject to another. their experience. Almost every day the interrogatories of the morning lasted three or four hours. from which the judges themselves went forth fatigued." referring them to me. It took six thousand years to produce her. she was great. her like will not be seen in the earth again in fifty thousand. They burdened her with long interrogatories of two or three hours. 295 . And here is the testimony of one of Joan's judges. saying. Isn't it so? They from the University of Paris. and their strong bias against the prisoner. and these served as material for the afternoon interrogatories. these witnesses are not talking about two or three days. but she extricated herself quite well. "But I have already answered that once before—ask the recorder. She often corrected the judges. she from the sheepfold and the cow-stable! Ah. yet in spite of this she always responded with an astonishing wisdom and memory. and more than the match. Such is my opinion. she was wonderful. then from these morning interrogatories they extracted the particularly difficult and subtle points.

I have sword already. in a weary tone: 296 . Joan resumed her seat. and faced toward the Bishop and said: "Take care what you do. Joan answered that "she would tell what she knew—but not all that she knew. and part of it was applause from the spectators. and Cauchon burst out upon her with an awful threat—the threat of instant condemnation unless she obeyed. fine and noble. Joan said: "I have already made oath. my lord. proud and undismayed: "Not all the clergy in Paris and Rouen could condemn me. till at last she said. The Bishop still insisted. and I saw cheeks about me blanch—for it meant fire and the stake! But Joan. you place yourself under suspicion!" "Let be. still standing. answered him back.Chapter 7 Craft That Was in Vain THE THIRD meeting of the court was in that same spacious chamber. 24th of February. and she rose. It is enough. Cauchon spoke from his throne and commanded Joan to lay her hands upon the Gospels and swear to tell the truth concerning everything asked her! Joan's eyes kindled. you who are my judge. That made the very bones of my body turn cold. rose and stood." The Bishop shouted: "In refusing to swear. the robed sixty-two massed in their chairs and the guards and order-keepers distributed to their stations. How did it begin? In just the same old way." The Bishop continued to insist. next day. It is enough." The Bishop plagued her straight along." It made a great stir. for you take a terrible responsibility on yourself and you presume too far. When the preparations were ended. lacking the right!" This made a great tumult.

I could have told him he would fail there. you see." "By touching your arm?" "No. The Bishop had granted more than he had intended. and joined my hands and begged it to implore God's help for me so that I 297 . She was to swear to tell the truth "as touching the matters et down in the proces verbal. there might be a chance to catch her neglecting some detail of her religious duties. I have nothing more to do here. now. It being Lent. take it and let me be at peace. "When have you heard your Voice?" "Yesterday and to-day. "You only want my life. religion was her life! "Since when have you eaten or drunk?" If the least thing had passed her lips in the nature of sustenance. henceforth. it was the same as saying. "Yes. neither her youth nor the fact that she was being half starved in her prison could save her from dangerous suspicion of contempt for the commandments of the Church." It was piteous to hear." The priest shifted to the Voices again." "At what time?" "Yesterday it was in the morning. I thanked it. her course was over a charted sea." They could not sail her outside of definite limits. Beaupere resumed his examination of the accused." The Bishop stormed out again: "Once more I command you to—" Joan cut in with a nonchalant "Passez outre. for he offered a compromise. without touching me. always clear-headed." "Did you thank it? Did you kneel?" He had Satan in his mind." and Cauchon retired from the struggle. perhaps. By command. that by and by it could be shown that she had rendered homage to the arch enemy of God and man. Why. and Joan. from whom I came. and was hoping. "I have done neither since yesterday at noon. and knelt in my bed where I was chained. but he retired with some credit this time. saw protection for herself in it and promptly and willingly accepted it." "What were you doing then?" "I was asleep and it woke me. and more than he would honestly try to abide by. Return me to God."I came from God.

Do you think he jumped at it instantly. "Do you think God would be displeased at your telling the whole truth?" "The Voice has commanded me to tell the King certain things. then she added a remark in which Beaupere. and God would help me. busy with her thoughts and far away. always watchful. and if it had furnished answers to be used by her in to-day's seance. no doubt. she said she was not at liberty to tell all she knew. that God speaks to me by that Voice!" Being questioned further concerning the Voice. so to speak: tedious and empty questions as to whether the Voice had told her she would escape from this prison. no." She was pensive a moment or two." Then she was stirred by a great emotion." Then she turned toward Cauchon and said. so as to slip around and spring on it from behind. betraying the joy he had in his mind. if it was accompanied with a glory of light. if it had eyes. That risky remark of Joan's was this: 298 ." "Then what did the Voice say?" "It told me to answer boldly. as a young hand at craft and artifice would do? No. you could not tell that he had noticed the remark at all. "You say that you are my judge. as it did when you were with him? Would it not if you asked it?" "I do not know if it be the wish of God. It never contradicts itself. detected a possible opening—a chance to set a trap. take care what you do. saying: "I believe wholly—as wholly as I believe the Christian faith and that God has redeemed us from the fires of hell. and not you—and some very lately—even last night. and began to ask idle questions about other things. He would be more easy at his dinner. I have revelations touching the King my master." "Why doesn't the Voice speak to the King itself. and those I will not tell you. always alert. "No. This very day it has told me again to answer boldly." "Has it forbidden you to answer only part of what is asked you?" "I will tell you nothing as to that. and the tears sprang to her eyes and she spoke out as with strong conviction." Beaupere asked her if the Voice's counsels were not fickle and variable. now I tell you again.might have light and instruction as touching the answers I should give here. oh. things which I would he knew. He slid indifferently away from it at once. etc. for in truth I am sent of God and you are putting yourself in great danger.

but she bore up as well as she could. and the children's games and romps under our dear Arbre Fee Bourlemont. and then humbly and gently she brought out that immortal answer which brushed the formidable snare away as it had been but a cobweb: "If I be not in a state of Grace." Ah. Poor Joan was grown dreamy and absent. and he made but a rambling and dreary business of it. and Jean Lefevre was one of them. no way out of the dilemma. and I heard Lefevre mutter: "It was beyond the wisdom of man to devise that answer. not while you live. and answered everything." The court saw the priest's game. For a space there was the silence of the grave. and the fairies. and mainly it was glad excitement. he not being able to put any heart in it. Think what hard hearts they were to set this fatal snare for that ignorant young girl and be proud of such work and happy in it. He asked Joan a thousand questions about her childhood and about the oak wood. I pray God keep me so. Men looked wondering into each other's faces. Her life was in imminent danger. I pray God place me in it."Without the Grace of God I could do nothing. All the house showed excitement. and Beaupere quietly and stealthily sprang his trap: "Are you in a state of Grace?" Ah. and some were awed and crossed themselves. if I be in it. no. possibly she was tired. and watched his play with a cruel eagerness. Then the priest finished by touching again upon the matter of her apparel—a matter which was never to be lost sight of in this still-hunt for 299 . and this stirring up of old memories broke her voice and made her cry a little. for whether she said yes or whether she said no. Whence comes this child's amazing inspirations?" Beaupere presently took up his work again. and she did not suspect it. untroubled eyes. you will never see an effect like that. for the Scriptures had said one cannot know this thing. it seemed a year. The time was ripe now. Joan looked out upon these hungering faces with innocent. it would be all the same—a disastrous answer. and he shouted: "Silence! and take your seat. It was a miserable moment for me while we waited. The accused will answer the question!" There was no hope. but the humiliation of his defeat weighed upon him. He sprang to his feet and cried out: "It is a terrible question! The accused is not obliged to answer it!" Cauchon's face flushed black with anger to see this plank flung to the perishing child. we had two or three honorable brave men in that pack of judges.

" 300 . a menace charged with mournful possibilities: "Would you like a woman's dress?" "Indeed yes. if I may go out from this prison—but here. no. but kept always hanging over her.this innocent creature's life.

I saw him before my eyes." 301 . "In what shape and form did St." It made me see that awful shadow again that fell dazzling white upon her that day under l'Arbre Fee de Bourlemont. Michael. I have been these seven years under their direction. and when they went away I cried because they did not take me with them. Would you believe it? The Bishop ignored the contract limiting the examination to matters set down in the proces verbal and again commanded Joan to take the oath without reservations. "You have said that you recognized them as being the voices of angels the third time that you heard them. though it was so long ago. and I knew who they were because they told me. but attended by a cloud of angels." "How did you know that it was those two saints? How could you tell the one from the other?" "I know it was they. and Cauchon had to yield. just as I see you. concerning Joan's Voices." "Did you see the archangel and the attendant angels in the body." "By what sign?" "By their manner of saluting me. Marguerite. and it made me shiver again. I have not received permission to speak. Michael appear?" "As to that." "Whose was the first Voice that came to you when you were thirteen years old?" "It was the Voice of St. She said: "You should be content I have sworn enough. but it seemed so. The examination was resumed. and I know how to distinguish them. What angels were they?" "St." She stood her ground. Catherine and St. It was really not very long gone by. because so much had happened since. or in the spirit?" "I saw them with the eyes of my body.Chapter 8 Joan Tells of Her Visions THE COURT met next on Monday the 27th. and he was not alone.

for it contained things which would be very awkward here. Among them was a decision that Joan's mission was from God. But that it was His will I would note have come. And I did not put it on by counsel of any man. That tried Joan's patience. Presently. I would sooner have had my body torn in sunder by horses than come. and presently she interrupted and said: "It is a trifling thing and of no consequence." "Robert de Baudricourt did not order you to wear it?" "No." Meaning. I think. as I have said before many times in these sittings. But it was lost time. that I answered all questions of this sort before the court at Poitiers. and so on. and by command of God. now. That book had wisely been gotten out of the way. and said: "I will say again." Beaupere made various attempts to lead her into contradictions of herself. send for that book. whereas it was the purpose of this court to make the male attire do hurtful work against her. "How was it that you were moved to come into France—by your own desire?" "Yes. and proceeded to make a solemn talk about it. her relations with the King. after some more questions as to the revelations which had been conveyed through her to the King. Prithee." Beaupere shifted once more to the matter of the male attire. also a decision permitting Joan to wear male attire. lacking that." "Did you think you did well in taking the dress of a man?" "I did well to do whatsoever thing God commanded me to do. and I would hat you wold bring here the record of that court and read from that. 302 . the light which shone about them. He returned to her visions."What did the archangel say to you that first time?" "I cannot answer you to-day. also to put her words and acts in disaccord with the Scriptures. that she would have to get permission of her Voices first. she complained of the unnecessity of all this. It was a subject that had to be got around and put aside. whereas it was the intention of this inferior court to show that it was from the devil." "But in this particular case do you think you did well in taking the dress of a man?" "I have done nothing but by command of God. but by command of God. He did not succeed." There was no answer.

also the counsel of the clergy." The subject was dropped now for a while. Denis." She loved it because it had been built in honor of one of her angels."Was there an angel above the King's head the first time you saw him?" "By the Blessed Mary!—" She forced her impatience down.) "No." "Were you wearing it when you were taken in battle at Compiegne?" "No. and I sent to ask that it be given to me to carry in the wars. and the rust fell easily off from it. and Beaupere took up the matter of the miraculous sword of Fierbois to see if he could not find a chance there to fix the crime of sorcery upon Joan. and five hundred torches. Denis after the attack upon Paris. and finished her sentence with tranquillity: "If there was one I did not see it. for I loved that church very dearly." "What revelations were made to the King?" "You will not get that out of me this year. Catherine of Fierbois?" Joan had no concealments to make as to this: "I knew the sword was there because my Voices told me so. so mysteriously discovered and so long and so constantly victorious. and the clergy were of opinion that my acts were good and not evil. The King had a sign before he would believe." "What made the King believe in the revelations which you brought him?" "He had signs." This sword. But I wore it constantly until I left St. Catherine. "How did you know that there was an ancient sword buried in the ground under the rear of the altar of the church of St. It seemed to me that it was not very deep in the ground. The clergy of the church caused it to be sought for and dug up. to the end that it might be lucky?" (The altar of St." Presently she added: "During three weeks I was questioned by the clergy at Chinon and Poitiers. I loved it because it was found in the church of St." 303 . "Was that sword blest? What blessing had been invoked upon it?" "None. "Didn't you lay it upon the altar." "Was there light?" "There were more than three thousand soldiers there. without taking account of spiritual light. was suspected of being under the protection of enchantment. and they polished it.

your banner or your sword?" Her eye lighted gladly at the mention of her banner. Catherine comforted me and I was cured in fifteen days without having to quit the saddle and leave my work. to avoid killing any one. and I had told it to the King beforehand. "Which do you love best." It made a great many smile. when you consider what a gentle and innocent little thing she looked." 304 . I had it from my Voices. I kept it because it was a good warsword—good to lay on stout thumps and blows with. and with again that curious contrast between her girlish little personality and her subject. And the proof is."Didn't you pray that it might be made lucky?" "Truly it were no harm to wish that my harness might be fortunate." "Did you know that you were going to be wounded?" "Yes." She said that quite simply. and if he would not I would take it by storm. I told them to have no doubts and no fears." "When you took Jargeau. why did you not put its commandant to ransom?" "I offered him leave to go out unhurt from the place. "What is become of the other sword? Where is it now?" "Is that in the proces verbal?" Beaupere did not answer." "Then it was not that sword which you wore in the field of Compiegne? What sword did you wear there?" "The sword of the Burgundian Franquet d'Arras. she look so little fitted for such things. forty times more than the sword! Sometimes I carried it myself when I charged the enemy. "In the final assault at Orleans did you tell your soldiers that the arrows shot by the enemy and the stones discharged from their catapults would not strike any one but you?" "No. that more than a hundred of my men were struck. naively. whom I took prisoner in the engagement at Lagny. I was wounded in the neck by an arrow in the assault upon the bastille that commanded the bridge. and no wonder. One could hardly believe she had ever even seen men slaughtered. with all his garrison. but St. and the contrast between her delicate little self and the grim soldier words which she dropped with such easy familiarity from her lips made many spectators smile. that they would raise the siege. "I have never killed anyone." Then she added. and she cried out: "I love my banner best—oh.

groping there. I do not remember. cold. but what many and perhaps most did doubt was. 305 . and opposed to this array nothing but a defenseless and ignorant girl who must some time or other surrender to bodily and mental exhaustion or get caught in one of the thousand traps set for her. the court's persistent fashion of coming back to that subject every little while and spooking around it and prying into it was not to pass the time—it had a strictly business end in view. Of course no one doubted that she had seen supernatural beings and been spoken to and advised by them." Thus closed a weary long sitting. very much astonished. Every device that could be contrived to trap Joan into wrong thinking. and treachery. It had been feeling its way. The male attire. And of course no one doubted that by supernatural help miracles had been done by Joan. or sinfulness as a little child at home or later." "Had your Voices counseled you to take it by storm?" "As to that. Therefore. as you see."And you did. and none of them had succeeded. and her discovery of the sword buried under the altar. I believe. had been tried. to find its work baffling and difficult instead of simple and easy." "Yes. And had the court made no progress during these seemingly resultless sittings? Yes. or disloyalty to the Church. wrong doing. It would have been foolish to doubt these things. She had come unscathed through the ordeal. but it had powerful allies in the shape of hunger. for instance. without result. that Joan's visions. Naturally it was very much surprised. and had found one or two vague trails which might freshen by and by and lead to something. deception. such as choosing out the King in a crowd when she had never seen him before. persecution. groping here. Voices. and miracles came from God. Was the court discouraged? No. and the visions and Voices. fatigue. for we all know that the air is full of devils and angels that are visible to traffickers in magic on the one hand and to the stainlessly holy on the other. It was hoped that in time they could be proven to have been of satanic origin.

and said: "By God. Joan was required to take an oath without reservations. distinctly and decidedly. in a spirit of fairness and candor: "But as to matters set down in the proces verbal." Here was a chance! We had two or three Popes. it being clearly dangerous to go into particulars in this matter. He asked. For Joan asked in a voice and manner which almost deceived even me. Everybody judiciously shirked the question of which was the true Pope and refrained from naming him. in a plausibly indolent and absent way: "Which one do you consider to be the true Pope?" The house took an attitude of deep attention. and you could see many people covertly chuckling. so innocent it seemed: "Are there two?" One of the ablest priests in that body and one of the best swearers there. As usual. Here was an opportunity to trick an unadvised girl into bringing herself into peril. and the unfair judge lost no time in taking advantage of it. spoke right out so that half the house heard him. then. it was a master stroke!" As soon as the judge was better of his embarrassment he came back to the charge. and so waited to hear the answer and see the prey walk into the trap. She considered herself well buttressed by the proces verbal compromise which Cauchon was so anxious to repudiate and creep out of. But when the answer came it covered the judge with confusion. I will freely tell the whole truth—yes. only one of them could be the true Pope. and added. as freely and fully as if I were before the Pope. so she merely refused. of course.Chapter 9 Her Sure Deliverance Foretold THE NEXT sitting opened on Thursday the first of March. She showed no temper this time. but was prudent and passed by Joan's question: "Is it true that you received a letter from the Count of Armagnac asking you which of the three Popes he ought to obey?" 306 . Fifty-eight judges present—the others resting.

it would be to the noble Maid of Vaucouleurs. for she was Commander-in-Chief and entitled to call herself so. except that there are errors in it—words which make me give myself too much importance. but destined at a far distant day to testify against lies and perversions smuggled into it by Cauchon and deliver them over to eternal infamy! "Do you acknowledge that you dictated this proclamation?" "I do. and not only that. and hadn't forgotten. and added: "So."Yes. was present—and not only present. I changed her language purposely. with a frank fearlessness which sounded fresh and wholesome in that den of trimmers and shufflers. a cipher? If any surrendering was done. I said 'Deliver up to the King' (rendez au Roi). already famed and formidable though she had not yet struck a blow. Joan said that hers had not been quite strictly copied. in dictating a word or two of reply I said I would try to answer him from Paris or somewhere where I could be at rest." I saw what was coming. "I was not able to instruct the Count of Armagnac as to which one he ought to obey"." The matter was dropped. if that pitiless court had discovered that the very scribbler of that piece of dictation." She did not look at me when she said it: she spared me that embarrassment. but helping build the record. I was troubled and ashamed. and answered it. and who was going to surrender anything to the King?—at that time a stick. They produced and read a copy of Joan's first effort at dictating—her proclamation summoning the English to retire from the siege of Orleans and vacate France—truly a great and fine production for an unpractised girl of seventeen. then she added. "but as for me." She was asked again which Pope she had considered the right one. I did not say 'Deliver up to the Maid' (rendez au la Pucelle). I hold that we are bound to obey our Lord the Pope who is at Rome." "Have you repented of it? Do you retract it?" 307 . or mayhap he misheard me or forgot what I said. I hadn't misheard her at all. She said she had received the Count's letter when she was just mounting her horse. secretary to Joan of Arc. "For instance. too. and it was becoming and proper. All those are words which my secretary substituted. and I did not call myself 'Commander-in-Chief' (chef de guerre). there would have been a fine and disagreeable episode (for me) there. "Do you acknowledge as your own the document which has just been read?" "Yes. Ah." Copies of both letters were produced and read.

The French cause was standing still. And more!"—she rose. the fulfilment of the rest of it was assured. it was the first day of March. years before the fulfilment. castle by castle. all France would be ours in six months. "I give you twenty years to do it in. that she stood in the view of everybody and uttered that strange and incredible prediction. oh. and it took twenty years to finish it. for. and there you may read it to this day. In face of all this. Twenty-five years after Joan's death the record was produced in the great Court of the Rehabilitation and verified under oath by Manchon and me. Twenty years later all France was ours excepting a single town—Calais. in this world. The French armies no longer existed. many fold greater than the fall of Orleans! and—" "Silence! Sit down!" "—and then. Now that will remind you of an earlier prophecy of Joan's. then she was indignant! "No! Not even these chains"—and she shook them—"not even these chains can chill the hopes that I uttered there. in 1436. Yes. For within five years Paris fell—1436—and our King marched into it flying the victor's flag. said she. 1431. our King was standing still. But here the matter is different. that. So the first part of the prophecy was then fulfilled—in fact. soon after. there was no hint that by and by the Constable Richemont would come forward and take up the great work of Joan of Arc and finish it. there in the court. with Paris in our hands. After Paris fell. At the time that she wanted to take Paris and could have done it with ease if our King had but consented. But if this golden opportunity to recover France was wasted. and stood a moment with a divine strange light kindling in her face. they will lose all France!" Now consider these things. 308 . she said that that was the golden time. the rest of the work had to be done city by city. Joan made that prophecy—made it with perfect confidence—and it came true. almost the entire prophecy. with Paris ours. but when you come to look into it there is sure to be considerable room for suspicion that the prophecy was made after the fact. somebody's prophecy turns up correct." She was right.Ah. then her words burst forth as in a flood—"I warn you now that before seven years a disaster will smite the English. There in that court Joan's prophecy was set down in the official record at the hour and moment of its utterance. Now and then. and surviving judges of our court confirmed the exactness of the record in their testimony.

" This sort of answer was not going to allay the spreading uneasiness. They would have given their right hands to know the source of it. "Do your saints and angels wear jewelry?—crowns.Joan' startling utterance on that now so celebrated first of March stirred up a great turmoil. questions like these were profane frivolities and not worthy of serious notice. You have one of them. It is the gift of my brother. not on the English!" Saints and angels who did not condescend to speak English is a grave affront. If not to me. All that these people felt sure of was. then I pray that it be given to the Church. too?" "Verily. why not? She is on our side." "Describe it. and she turned upon Cauchon and said: "I had two rings. "What languages do your Voices speak?" "French." "Where did you get it?" "My father and mother gave it to me. And I know it as surely as I know that you sit here before me." 309 ." "It is plain and simple and has 'Jesus and Mary' engraved upon it. Give it back to me. everybody was troubled. Naturally." The judges conceived the idea that maybe these rings were for the working of enchantments. It might be useful by and by." "St. But the question brought to her mind another matter. she answered indifferently. Therefore. whether one thinks it ascends from hell or comes down from heaven. Marguerite. but the tribunal could take silent note of Joan's remark and remember it against her. rings. "How do you know that those things are going to happen?" "I know it by revelation. At last the questions began again. for a prophecy is a grisly and awful thing. earrings?" To Joan. after some further dallying the judge got the subject out of the way and took up one which he could enjoy more. that the inspiration back of it was genuine and puissant. They have been taken away from me during my captivity. They could not be brought into court and punished for contempt. Perhaps they could be made to do Joan a damage. which they did. and it was some time before it quieted down again. "Where is the other ring?" "The Burgundians have it.

It is said that your godmother surprised these creatures on a summer's night dancing under the tree called l'Arbre Fee de Bourlemont. tool of Cauchon? Do you remember that under the sacred seal of the confessional Joan freely and trustingly revealed to him everything concerning her history save only a few things regarding her supernatural revelations 310 . Is it not possible that your pretended saints and angles are but those fairies?" "Is that in your proces?" She made no other answer. Have you noticed that almost from the beginning the nature of the questions asked Joan showed that in some way or other the questioner very often already knew his fact before he asked his question? Have you noticed that somehow or other the questioners usually knew just how and were to search for Joan's secrets." "And what else?" There was a pause." If faces do really betray what is passing in men's minds. after all. sometimes. one of the judges asked Joan if she had ever cured sick people by touching them with the ring. Catherine under that tree?" "I do not know. that they really knew the bulk of her privacies—a fact not suspected by her—and that they had no task before them but to trick her into exposing those secrets? Do you remember Loyseleur. at this time.Everybody could see that that was not a valuable equipment to do devil's work with." "What promises did they make you?" "None but such as they had God's warrant for. "Have you not conversed with St. a fear came upon many in that house. that were used to abide near by Domremy whereof there are many reports and traditions. that maybe. The interest deepened. yet I will say this much: they told me that the King would become master of his kingdom in spite of his enemies. "Now as concerning the fairies." "But what promises did they make?" "That is not in your proces. So that trail was not worth following. She said no. Still. the treacherous priest. then she said humbly: "They promised to lead me to Paradise. Movements and whisperings ceased: the stillness became almost painful." "Or by the fountain near the tree?" "Yes. Marguerite and St. the hypocrite. to make sure. a chosen servant and herald of God was here being hunted to her death.

and the judge knew it before he asked the question." It made some of them shiver. Joan answered: "That is not in your proces. I will not tell it now. and when such thoughts swept through my head they made me cold with fear. I was frequently in terror to find my mind (which I could not control) criticizing the Voices and saying. Cauchon." I am reverent by nature. "They counsel her to speak boldly—a thing which she would do without any suggestion from them or anybody else—but when it comes to telling her any useful thing. and it is futile to hope that that one has not already done it—Joan of Arc. the tired prisoner! And I? And Noel Rainguesson. 311 . questions whose subtlety and ingenuity and penetration are astonishing until we come to remember Loyseleur's performance and recognize their source. but some who wish me out of this world will go from it before me. already. but before three months I will tell it you. but that is not in your proces. I do not know when I shall be set free. and she showed one this time." She said it with such a happy look. "Ask me again in three months and I will tell you.which her Voices had forbidden her to tell to any one—and that the unjust judge. I was so ill that I could but with difficulty abide at my post and do my work." The judge seems to know the matter he is asking about. We will return to the questionings. was a hidden listener all the time? Now you understand how the inquisitors were able to devise that long array of minutely prying questions. such as how these conspirators manage to guess their way so skilfully into her affairs. unless one has come to your help. There is but one among the redeemed that would do it. and if there was a storm and thunder at the time. you are now lamenting this cruel iniquity these many years in hell! Yes verily. "Did they make you still another promise?" "Yes. "Did your Voices tell you that you would be liberated before three months?" Joan often showed a little flash of surprise at the good guessing of the judges. they are always off attending to some other business. Ah. Bishop of Beauvais. "Have your Voices told you that you will be delivered from this prison?" Without a doubt they had. one gets this idea from his next question.

far from the pomps and tumults of the world. But not that death! Divine as she was. she was human also. D'Alencon and the Bastard and La Hire. Home again! That day was our understanding of it—Noel's and mine. and there. dauntless as she was in battle. an angel. You remember that the first time she was wounded she was frightened. So we made up our minds to be ready and take a hand in it. just as any other girl of seventeen would have done. we would carry our idol home. In the present and also in later sittings Joan was urged to name the exact day of her deliverance. And so. I think. and that this rescue would take place at the end of the three months. and cried. that death! No. the minutes. we saw it. and an ordinary death was what she believed the 312 . and the grace and charm of the meadows. that was our dream. Ever since the fulfilment of the prophecy. we would take up our happy life again and live it out as we had begun it. the hours. she was not afraid of any ordinary death. They would fly lightly along.drooping yonder?—why. Yes. the Voices themselves did not name the precise day. although she had known for eighteen days that she was going to be wounded on that very day. the woods. that was our dream. and full of a human girl's sensitiveness and tenderness and delicacies. she could not have lived the three months with that one before her. No. and now we would count the days. I have believed that Joan had the idea that her deliverance was going to dome in the form of death. they would soon be over. She was to be set free in three months. Yes. Moreover. she was a clay-made girl also—as human a girl as any in the world. but left her in ignorance. She had not the permission of her Voices. in the free air and the sunshine. But we know now that they had mercifully hidden from her how she was to be set free. The Voices had told her so. the dream that carried us bravely through that three months to an exact and awful fulfilment. the floods of joy went streaming through us from crown to sole! It was all that we could do to hold still and keep from making fatal exposure of our feelings. She was not solely a saint. and that he would privately plan a rescue with Joan's old lieutenants. I think. Our reading of the prophecy was this: We believed the King's soul was going to be smitten with remorse. and told her true—true to the very day—May 30th. with the friendly sheep and the friendly people for comrades. That was what she meant. and the river always before our eyes and their deep peace in our hearts. but she could not do that. the though of which would have killed us. if we had foreknown it and been obliged to bear the burden of it upon our hearts the half of those weary days.

That is why I wish for delay. when she charged Cauchon with trying to kill her with a poisoned fish. and that I know it as well as I know that you sit here before me in this tribunal. Michael's dress and appearance. They did not tell her the day or the place. added: "I should be dead but for this revelation. She answered them with dignity. should be her fate. that would make her patient and bold. her reward so close at hand. allowing it to grow and establish itself in her mind. but one saw that they gave her pain. and that that was why she looked happy and content—the gates of Paradise standing open for her. Yes. Now as they did not refuse the swift death. I think. The Voices made no promise. John. Save herself if she could. And so now that she was told she was to be "delivered" in three months. I think she believed it meant that she would die in her bed in the prison." She sighed and. I am to be set free. after a little pause. for she was a free spirit." Some trivial questions were asked her about St. for that was the way she was made. certain and swift. which comforts me always. when she uttered it. and I believe she had—would naturally be greatly strengthened. and able to fight her fight out like a soldier. her notion that she was to be "delivered" by death in the prison—if she had it. Then later. her troubles so soon to be over." "Do your Voices forbid you to tell the truth?" "Is it that you wish to know matters concerning the King of France? I tell you again that he will regain his kingdom. you see. but die with her face to the front if die she must. for when I see him I have the feeling that I am not in mortal sin. But I am wandering from the trial." 313 . Joan was asked to definitely name the time that she would be delivered from prison. and the captivity brief. of course. not horror. She begged that death. that would make her look happy. and dreaded the confinement. Five weeks before she was captured in the battle of Compiegne. and I desire to ask leave of my Voices to tell you the day. and try for the best.prophecy of deliverance meant. but only told her to bear whatever came. After a little she said: "I have great joy in seeing him. the time so short. her Voices told her what was coming. "I have always said that I was not permitted to tell you everything. Now I will explain why I think as I do. a hopeful young thing like Joan would naturally cherish that fact and make the most of it. you see. but said she would be taken prisoner and that it would be before the feast of St. for her face showed happiness.

But that is all a mystery until this day—the nature of the crown." Here was a possible chance to set a successful snare for her innocence. of course—that this sign was a crown and was a pledge of the verity of Joan's mission. but they got nothing more out of her." "Did the King have that crown at Rheims?" "I think the King put upon his head a crown which he found there." "Do you know what the sign was?" "As to that. We can never know whether a real crown descended upon the King's head. "When you confessed were you in mortal sin. I mean—and will remain a mystery to the end of time. Catherine have allowed me to confess myself to them. "Now as to the sign given to the King—" "I have already told you that I will tell you nothing about it. But whether I have seen it or not. The sitting closed. but a much richer one was brought him afterward. I have heard say that it was rich and magnificent.She added." "Have you seen that one?" "I cannot tell you." All this refers to Joan's secret interview with the King—held apart. the mystic fabric of a vision. do you think?" But her reply did her no hurt. "Sometimes St. without perjury. Marguerite and St. "Did you see a crown upon the King's head when he received the revelation?" "I cannot tell you as to that. hard day for all of us. without perjury. It was known—through Loyseleur. So the inquiry was shifted once more to the revelations made to the King—secrets which the court had tried again and again to force out of Joan. A long. or only a symbol. you will not find out from me. though two or three others were present." They went on and pestered her to weariness about that mysterious crown. but without success. 314 .

and with good reason. They did not leave the questioning to a particular member. and the court knew it. convicted. and on top of all this. The whole town was laughing in its sleeve. In two hours she would be hopelessly entangled. The whole court was out of patience. could not call a single witness in her defense. and its dignity was deeply hurt. Nothing could be more certain that this—so they thought. if anybody had a right to laugh it was the country-lass and not the court. was allowed no advocate or adviser. and sometimes so many were 315 . The members could not hide their annoyance.Chapter 10 The Inquisitors at Their Wits' End THE COURT rested a day. And so. veteran legal gladiators. for that was not her spirit. It shows that after all their experience with her they did not know her yet. the thing which had looked so easy had proven to be surprisingly difficult. then took up work again on Saturday. This was one of our stormiest sessions. but others were doing it. no. the third of March. as I have said. It was easy to see that these men had made up their minds to force words from Joan to-day which should shorten up her case and bring it to a prompt conclusion. and must conduct her case by herself against a hostile judge and a packed jury. knew nothing of the wiles and perplexities of legal procedure. illustrious tacticians. routed. The two hours had strung out into days. They volleyed questions at Joan from all over the house. She was not doing that. everybody helped. They went into the battle with energy. the session was stormy. what promised to be a skirmish had expanded into a siege. defeated. These threescore distinguished churchmen. the light victim who was to have been puffed away like a feather remained planted like a rock. had left important posts where their supervision was needed. But it was a mistake. to journey hither from various regions and accomplish a most simple and easy matter—condemn and send to death a country-lass of nineteen who could neither read nor write.

and the questionings had to shift to other matters. one or two new ones were put forward. When the lances were broken they were renewed. I will choose the occasion for myself. "Did you not say to your men that pennons made like your banner would be lucky?" The soldier-spirit in Joan was offended at this puerility. twenty. the male attire was reverted to. But Joan remained steadfast. By and by there was peace." Whenever she flung out a scornful speech like that at these French menials in English livery it lashed them into a rage.talking at once that she had to ask them to deliver their fire one at a time and not by platoons. storming at the prisoner minute after minute. Half an hour was spent over Joan's apparitions—their dress. 'Ride those English down!' and I did it myself." That old ground was debated and fought over inch by inch with great bitterness and many threats. She drew herself up. and that is what happened this time." The purpose of the question unveils itself in the next one. of course." After a while the matter of Joan's Standard was taken up." "Were they often renewed?" "Yes. in the hope of connecting magic and witchcraft with it. and said with dignity and fire: "What I said to them was. The beginning was as usual: "You are once more required to take the oath pure and simple. 316 . sometimes even thirty of them on their feet at a time. It was to distinguish them from the rest of the forces. general appearance. hair. There were ten. but Joan was not disturbed. When I do more. and so on—in the hope of fishing something of a damaging sort out of the replies. It was their own idea. but with no result." "I will answer to what is in the proces verbal." "Do you think you would have sinned if you had taken the dress of your sex?" "I have done best to serve and obey my sovereign Lord and Master. Next. and the inquiry was resumed. After many well-worn questions had been re-asked. "Did not the King or the Queen sometimes ask you to quit the male dress?" "That is not in your proces. "Did not your men copy your banner in their pennons?" "The lancers of my guard did it.

They worshiped her." "Did not women touch their rings to those which you wore?" "Yes." "At Rheims was your Standard carried into the church? Did you stand at the altar with it in your hand at the Coronation?" "Yes." "What impulse was it. "Did you not stand sponsor for some children baptized at Rheims?" "At Troyes I did. and so they did those things. think you. in honor of the King." See what modest little words she uses to describe that touching spectacle." "Were not masses and prayers said in your honor?" "If it was done it was not by my command. it was enough. that moved the people to kiss your hands. I know not." Glad? Why they were transported with joy to see her. her marches about France walled in on both sides by the adoring multitudes: "They were glad to see me." "If they thought you were sent of God. many did. they knelt in the mire and kissed the hoofprints of her horse. but whether they believed it or not. and at St. and I named the boys Charles. and I could not have prevented them if I had had the heart. if she was worshiped. No. and your vestments?" "They were glad to see me. "Did you not cause paintings and images of yourself to be made?" "No. but I did not know their reason for it. Curious logic. At Arras I saw a painting of myself kneeling in armor before the King and delivering him a letter. But if any prayed for me I think it was no harm. Those poor people came lovingly to me because I had not done them any hurt. your feet." "Did the French people believe you were sent of God?" "As to that. do you think it was well thought?" "If they believed it. It was nothing to them that she was not to blame for what other people did. but had done the best I could for them according to my strength. and that is what these priests were trying to prove." 317 . Denis. but I caused no such things to be made. I was not the less sent of God. and the girls I named Joan.It was now sought to turn against Joan the thousand loving honors which had been done her when she was raising France out of the dirt and shame of a century of slavery and castigation. she was guilty of mortal sin. their trust was not abused. When they could not kiss her hands or her feet. one must say.

But I do not remember that I was in armor." "In the dress of a man?" "Yes. and cried. It is not my custom to swear." "Continue."In passing through the country did you confess yourself in the Churches and receive the sacrament?" "Yes. and I joined them and prayed also." It was now insinuated that when she came to. "It is reported that you brought a dead child to life in the church at Lagny. and that she did it again when she heard of the defection of the Commandant of Soissons. Was that in answer to your prayers?" "As to that." 318 . It was straight way baptized. after jumping from the tower. and said: "It is not true. It had been dead three days. The tempestuous session had worn her and drowsed her alertness. and was as black as my doublet. The wily court shifted to another matter: to pursue this one at this time might call Joan's attention to her small mistake. and by her native cleverness she might recover her lost ground. doing no more than they. she was angry and blasphemed the name of God. I have never cursed. my words were. I have no knowledge. She was hurt and indignant at this. "Did you not say that you would rather die than be delivered into the power of the English?" Joan answered frankly." It was insinuated that this was an attempt to commit the deep crime of suicide to avoid falling into the hands of the English." It was almost a concession! almost a half-surrender of the permission granted her by the Church at Poitiers to dress as a man. without perceiving the trap: "Yes. then it passed from life again and was buried in holy ground." "While we prayed it came to life. Other young girls were praying for the child." "Why did you jump from the tower of Beaurevoir by night and try to escape?" "I would go to the succor of Compiegne. that I would rather that my soul be returned unto God than that I should fall into the hands of the English.

The sittings should be secret hereafter. against unfair odds. not intention. It was plain that the public trial had wrought damage: its proceedings had been discussed all over the town and had moved many to pity the abused prisoner. Cauchon was losing ground in the fight. and it was done. her simplicity and candor. all friendless and alone. all useless matter—that is. I sent this news to 319 . and during five days they sifted the huge bulk of answers thus far gathered from Joan. There were signs that here and there in the court a judge was being softened toward Joan by her courage. Something must be done. it was by oversight. He called a small council now. her fortitude. It was time. If a lamb or two got in. her presence of mind. and there was grave room for fear that this softening process would spread further and presently bring Cauchon's plans in danger. There should be no more of that. He thought it pity to subject so many judges to the prostrating fatigues of this trial when it could be conducted plenty well enough by a handful of them. So Noel could come no more. her constancy. the nobility of her character. her fine intelligence. He chose tigers. They winnowed it of all chaff. Another change. Cauchon was not distinguished for compassion. Oh. they saved up all matter which could be twisted to her hurt. and he did. her piety. and no spectators admitted. but he now gave proof that he had it in his character. Joan was gaining it. He would let all the judges but a handful go. and the good brave fight she was making. and he knew what to do with lambs when discovered. but he would select the handful himself. gentle judge! But he did not remember to modify the fatigues for the little captive. all matter favorable to Joan.Chapter 11 The Court Reorganized for Assassination A HALT was called. and out of this they constructed a basis for a new trial which should have the semblance of a continuation of the old one. her manifest purity.

" The evil face of Cauchon betrayed satisfaction when she said that. nor anybody there who would ever dream of such a thing as the Lord's being any shade less stringent than men. and did her work well. The third day she was brighter. but I think that He allowed them to be chastised for their sins. There was nobody there who would not punish a sinner ninety-six years if he could. seeing that her life was at stake here. Did this one? No. "Have you ever embraced St. She looked tired and weak. "Do you know if St. Her appearance gave me a great shock. Another court would not have taken advantage of her state. and the next day this was continued hour after hour." Then she spoke up with the old martial ring in her voice and the old audacity in her words. making all it could out of this great chance. She was listless and far away. it worried her for hours. But nobody found fault with it. 320 ." It was a sufficiently naive way to account for a chastisement which had now strung out for ninety-six years. Catherine and St. and hate whom He hates.him. Many attempts were made to beguile her into saying indiscreet things. and her answers showed that she was dazed and not able to keep perfect run of all that was done and said. the first one it had had. but would have adjourned and spared her. but she saw the purpose in view and answered with tact and wisdom. As a result. On the 10th of March the secret trial began." "Does God hate the English?" "Of the love or the hatred of God toward the English I know nothing. and seemed to me to state as facts things which were but allegories and visions mixed with facts. She was almost her normal self again. Marguerite hate the English?" "They love whom Our Lord loves. "But I know this—that God will send victory to the French. A week had passed since I had seen Joan. Marguerite and St. I had not the heart to carry it myself. Catherine?" "Yes. she made partial revealments of particulars forbidden by her Voices. and added. both of them. She was tortured into confusing herself concerning the "sign" which had been given the King. and that all the English will be flung out of France but the dead ones!" "Was God on the side of the English when they were prosperous in France?" "I do not know if God hates the French. I would give the pain a chance to modify before I should see him in the evening. and with a glad and eager ferocity. and looked less worn.

particular emphasis had been given to it in a private remark written in the margin of the proces: "She concealed her visions from her parents and from every one." "Did you never ask your Voices if you might tell your parents?" "They were willing that I should tell them."When you hung garlands upon L'Arbre Fee Bourlemont. I did them the most honor and reverence that I could." To the minds of the questioners this headstrong conduct savored of pride." A good point for Cauchon if he could eventually make it appear that these were no saints to whom she had done reverence. did you kneel?" "Yes. but I would not for anything have given my parents that pain. did you do it in honor of your apparitions?" "No." Satisfaction again. they have several times called me Daughter of God." "Ah. you asked their pardon? So you knew you were guilty of sin in going without their leave!" Joan was stirred. No doubt Cauchon would take it for granted that she hung them there out of sinful love for the fairies. That sort of pride would move one to see sacrilegious adorations. and she exclaimed: "I was commanded of God. "Did not your Voices call you Daughter of God?" Joan answered with simplicity. Much might be made of that." "I have obeyed them in all things but that. In fact." Possibly this disloyalty to her parents might itself be the sign of the satanic source of her mission. "Do you think it was right to go away to the wars without getting your parents' leave? It is written one must honor his father and his mother. Her eyes flashed." Further indications of pride and vanity were sought. And for that I have begged their forgiveness in a letter and gotten it. and unsuspiciously: "Yes. Now there was the matter of Joan's keeping her supernatural commerce a secret from her parents. but devils in disguise. before the siege of Orleans and since. "What horse were you riding when you were captured? Who gave it you?" "The King. did you make reverence. "When the saints appeared to you did you bow. and it was right to go! If I had had a hundred fathers and mothers and been a king's daughter to boot I would have gone." 321 .

those dull imaginations—not even this pretty picture. Eloquence was a native gift of Joan of Arc. there was nothing in it for them."6 How simple it is." "But did you base your hopes of victory in yourself or in your Standard?" "In neither. Ten or twelve thousand crowns. came that touching speech which will live as long as language lives. Her words were as 322 . so simply drawn. My brothers hold it for him. and money to pay the service in my household. In God. It was not. It was but an act of devotion. nothing." Then she said with naivete "It was not a great sum to carry on a war with. I had been wounded before Paris. It is the King's money."You had other things—riches—of the King?" "For myself I had horses and arms. or the Standard you?" "Whether it was the Standard or whether it was I." "Why was it that your Standard had place at the crowning of the King in the Cathedral of Rheims. and how beautiful. soft and low. and move all gentle hearts wheresoever it shall come. it came from her lips without effort and without preparation. of the wounded girl-soldier hanging her toy harness there in curious companionship with the grim and dusty iron mail of the historic defenders of France. And it is the custom of men of war who have been wounded to make such offering there. and not otherwise. down to the latest day: "It had borne the burden. is nothing—the victories came from God." "Had you not a treasury?" "Yes. and pass into all tongues. rather than those of the other captains?" Then. it had earned the honor. Denis?" "My suit of silver mail and a sword. No." "You have it yet?" "No." "What were the arms which you left as an offering in the church of St. unless evil and injury for that innocent creature could be gotten out of it somehow." "Did you put them there in order that they might be adored?" "No. "Which aided most—you the Standard. And how it beggars the studies eloquence of the masters of oratory." "Was not your Standard waved around the King's head at the Coronation?" "No." Nothing appealed to these stony hearts.

enduring in the history of celebrated sayings like the cry of a French and Christian soul wounded unto death in its patriotism and its faith. a la peine. but never with success. 323 . 6." — TRANSLATOR. they had their source in a great heart and were coined in a great brain.sublime as her deeds. as sublime as her character. It is as subtle as an odor.What she said has been many times translated. Honorary Vicar-General to the Archbishop of Aix. There is a haunting pathos about the original which eludes all efforts to convey it into our tongue. c'etait bien raison qu'il fut a l'honneur. and escapes in the transmission." Monseigneur Ricard. finely speaks of it (Jeanne d'Arc la Venerable. page 197) as "that sublime reply. Her words were these: "Il avait.

stood up in that venerable court and conducted her case all by herself. good. vowing her pure body and her pure soul to His service. Joan detailed the true history of the case. it is hard to speak of it with patience. this small secret court of holy assassins did a thing so base that even at this day. and finished with some words for Cauchon which he remembers yet. here in the tribunal wherein Joan had fought a fourth lone fight in three years. windy." You remember all that. and was bent on making him do it. the Standard-Bearer. to see these false priests. What they wanted to show was this—that she had committed the sin of relapsing from her vow and trying to violate it. and most dear and lamented comrade. peace to his ashes! And you will remember how Joan. Then think what I felt. big. as a next move.Chapter 12 Joan's Master-Stroke Diverted NOW. the child Joan solemnly devoted her life to God. Certainly there was no baseness that those people were ashamed to stoop to in their hunt for that friendless girl's life. You will remember that her parents tried to stop her from going to the wars by haling her to the court at Toul to compel her to make a marriage which she had never promised to make—a marriage with our poor. deliberately twist that matter entirely around and try to make out that Joan haled the Paladin into court and pretended that he had promised to marry her. It was shabby work for those grave men to be 324 . but lost her temper as she went along. and tore the poor Paladin's case to rags and blew it away with a breath. In the beginning of her commerce with her Voices there at Domremy. The rest of this day and part of the next the court labored upon the old theme—the male attire. hard-fighting. who fell in honorable battle and sleeps with God these sixty years. sixteen years old. and how the astonished old judge on the bench spoke of her as "this marvelous child. whether he is fanning himself in the world he belongs in or has swindled his way into the other. in my old age.

but only as a passing thought. "Would you escape if you saw the doors open?" She spoke up frankly and said: "Yes—for I should see in that the permission of Our Lord. and hammer and tongs to follow. Her plan was characteristically businesslike. The court knew that one of Joan's purposes had been the deliverance of the exiled Duke of Orleans. the proverb says." That was just her way. I think the idea of the rescue did occur to her. God helps who help themselves. before the three months should expire. it was love first. Some remark of the Bishop of Beauvais moved her to remind him once more that he was an unfair judge. If a thing was to be done. "I do not know. something occurred which convinces me." Now. and put into her mind the same notion about her deliverance which Noel and I had settled upon—a rescue by her old soldiers. I would have invaded England and brought him out by force. every time I think of it—and it struck me so at the time—that for a moment. but I do not know the form of it. She added with a little sigh: "If I had had my freedom three years. and that the male dress was a better protection for her modesty than the other. I would have delivered him. that soldiers of the guard were always present in her room whether she was asleep or awake. But except I thought I had permission." I think it is as I have said. but they have not given it. at this point. Catherine has promised me help. then. I would not go. Without much thought as to this 325 .engaged in. I do not know whether I am to be delivered from this prison or whether when you sent me to the scaffold there will happen a trouble by which I shall be set free. and they were curious to know how she had intended to manage it. and that it quickly passed away. and within the prison walls. "What danger?" he asked. St. at least. her hopes wandered to the King. and her statement of it as characteristically simple and straightforward: "I would have taken English prisoners enough in France for his ransom." "Have you the permission of your Voices to break out of prison whenever you can?" "I have asked their leave several times. and that he was putting himself in great danger. but no shilly-shallying between. she expected the deliverance of death. and failing that. and had no right to preside there. for they well knew one of Joan's reasons for clinging to the male dress was.

" "It is a weighty answer." She paused. my heart was beating fast. I do not know. but I believe she was only thinking of this slow and cruel martyrdom of chains and captivity and insult. as to that. we can never know. Surely. misunderstood." "To me the knowledge that I shall be saved is a great treasure. you feel certain that that will happen and that you will not be damned in hell. but words whose mystery fell away from them many a year ago and revealed their meaning to all the world: "But what my Voices have said clearest is.matter. words which she may have rightly understood. do not grieve for your martyrdom. martyrdom was the right name for it. that I shall be delivered by a great victory. He was willing to make the most he could out of what she had said: "As the Voices have told you you are going to Paradise." After a pause she added these words. but Joan's simple and humble answer left it empty: "One cannot keep his conscience too clean. as to that we can never know. oh. My hope for salvation is in holding fast to my oath to keep by body and my soul pure. also. I know that I shall be saved. It had been a long and wearisome struggle for 326 . from it you will ascend into the Kingdom of Paradise." "Do you think that after that revelation you could be able to commit mortal sin?" "As to that. memorable forever—words whose meaning she may have miscaught. they sounded so like a prediction. "And always they say 'Submit to whatever comes. for to me that great victory meant the sudden bursting in of our old soldiers with the war-cry and clash of steel at the last moment and the carrying off of Joan of Arc in triumph. I am of the opinion that it may be one or the other. But. with those solemn words which men still so often quote and dwell upon—words which filled me with fear. Is that so?" "I believe what they told me." Was she thinking of fire and the stake? I think not. I thought of it myself." We were now arriving at the last day of this new trial. that thought had such a short life! For now she raised her head and finished." "Since you know you are to be saved. do you think it necessary to go to confession?" The snare was ingeniously devised. Joan had come through the ordeal well. It was Jean de la Fontaine who was asking the questions.

"Why do you make a difficulty when there is no room for any?" Then Jean de la Fontaine corrected her notion that there was but one Church. and that there should be no difficulty about this matter. and cannot err. The inquisitors were thoroughly vexed and dissatisfied. Joan was in imminent peril now. and would hope to get profit out of it. and has its seat in heave. whether good or bad?" That was well planned. She said she loved the Church and was ready to support the Christian faith with all her strength. If she should say no. Vicar of God. 327 . This was done—March 17th." The court took note of this straitly worded refusal. She drew a distinct line of separation between the Church's authority over her as a subject member. Early in the sitting a notable trap was set for Joan: "Will you submit to the determination of the Church all your words and deeds. which is our Holy Father the Pope. she would render herself chargeable with the crime of heresy. who had commanded them to be done. and a long chase was then made over the old hunting-ground—the fairies. and the matter of her mission." Then she turned upon the judge and said. the which Church has its seat in the earth. and one would know how to decide its source and character promptly. and all that. and the redeemed. it would put her mission itself upon trial. If she should heedlessly say yes. She said: "I will submit them to Our Lord who sent me. but the matter was dropped for the present. All ways had been tried to convict the accused. For the Church Militant I have no other answer now. But she was equal to the occasion.all concerned. The judge still insisted that she submit them to the decision of the Church. the clergy and all good Christians and Catholics. put in one more day's work. the angels. is governed by the Holy Spirit. thus far. However. "Will you not submit those matters to the Church Militant?" "I am come to the King of France from the Church Triumphant on high by its commandant. and all had failed. It would seem to me that He and His Church are one. the saints. but as to the works done under her mission. There were two—the Church Triumphant. the visions. the prelates. the male attire. those must be judged by God alone. and the Church Militant. they resolved to make one more effort. which is God. and to that Church I will submit all those things which I have done.

It was her clear right. Rome had no interest in the destruction of this messenger of God.In the afternoon the satanic Bishop himself took the chair and presided over the closing scenes of the trial. As Joan moved feebly away. and honored. From that trial she would have gone forth free. and Manchon knew. and yet there are several questions which you continually refuse to answer. She had made many master-strokes. and there was none to tell her what she had done. she was ignorant. I knew. So there she sat. but he was not daring enough to stand up against that demand if Joan had urged it. who is the Vicar of God. once more Joan of Arc the Victorious. and kept saying to myself. but this was the master-stroke. by the long day's struggle and by illness. but speech was the only way. She had made that speech by mere instinct. or she must have noticed the effect of that speech and divined the reason of it. and none was allowed to approach her near enough for that. more fully?" Now a thunder-clap fell out of a clear sky: "Take me to the Pope. and that was all that her cause needed. not suspecting what tremendous forces were hidden in it. If Joan had only known. poor thing. but all unconscious of it. "Such a little while ago she said the 328 . It was an appeal to Rome. and if she had known how to read writing we could have hoped to get the knowledge to her somehow. and if she had persisted in it Cauchon's plot would have tumbled about his ears like a house of cards. She was miserably worn and tired. if she had only know! She had lodged a mine under this black conspiracy able to blow the Bishop's schemes to the four winds of heaven." It made the Bishop's purple face fairly blanch with consternation. Would you not answer the Pope more fully than you have answered before my lord of Beauvais? Would you not feel obliged to answer the Pope. dragging her chains. this question was asked by one of the judges: "You have said to my lord the Bishop that you would answer him as you would answer before our Holy Father the Pope. But no. Cauchon at once diverted the questions to other matters and hurried the trial quickly to an end. I will answer to everything that I ought to. He was daring. Along toward the finish. and blessed. and did not know what a blow she had struck for life and liberty. Rome would have given her a fair trial. I felt stunned and dazed. France was not the Church. But it was not so fated. and he would have gone from that place the worst-beaten man of the century. and she didn't know it.

it is to her death.saving word and could have gone free. I know it. they will never let any come near her now between this and her condemnation." 329 . lest she get a hint and speak that word again. They will double the guards. This is the bitterest day that has come to me in all this miserable time. yes. I feel it. there she goes to her death. and now.

and no definite result. because the charges against the prisoner were not communicated to her. although young and simple. Cauchon showed Lohier the proces and asked his opinion about the trial. He could trump up another. as I have said. Lohier escaped from Rouen and got out of France with all speed. notwithstanding she had so much at stake. Truly it was a shabby advantage to take of a girl situated as this one was. and full freedom of speech and action on the part of those present not possible. because the trial touched the honor of the King of France. an able lawyer of Normandy. for these reasons: 1. The character of it I have described to you. without definite result. Now this was the opinion which he gave to Cauchon. Maetre Lohier. He said that the whole thing was null and void. He burst out upon Lohier with the most savage cursings. and I will give you his opinion of that trial. 3. Well. therefore she had been obliged to fight in the dark. yet he was not summoned to defend himself. and so saved his life. the second trial was over. 2.Chapter 13 The Third Trial Fails SO THE SECOND trial in the prison was over. had been forced to defend her cause without help of counsel. because the accused. because the trial was secret. It was baser in one particular than the previous one. if necessary. happened to be in Rouen. and that my partisanship has not made me deceive you as to its unfair and illegal character. there was no foreseeing what traps might be set. But Cauchon did not give up. nor any one appointed to represent him. He had the half-promise of an enormous prize—the Archbishopric of Rouen—if he should succeed in burning the body and damning to hell the soul of this young girl who had never 330 . during the course of it. Over. for this time the charges had not been communicated to Joan. and no way to prepare for them. and swore he would have him drowned. so that you may see that I have been honest with you. There was no opportunity to do any thinking beforehand. One day. And still another and another. 4. Did that please Bishop Cauchon? It did not.

or maybe it was hoped that the reading would kill the prisoner with fatigue—for. worse was to come. recognizing her untaught estate and her inability to deal with the complex and difficult matters which were about to be considered. to a man like the Bishop of Beauvais. It was also decided that Joan should be required to answer squarely to every article. It took him and the other scavengers nine days to dig matter enough out of Joan's testimony and their own inventions to build up the new mass of charges. I think. he had the cold effrontery to make to Joan a proposition which. Joan looked up to 331 . but only a desire to instruct her and lead her into the way of truth and salvation. So he set to work again straight off next day. and such a prize as that. And it was a formidable mass indeed. and that they had no wish to hurt her body. and there. Why. Cauchon was managing to narrow her chances more and more all the time. had determined. for it numbered sixty-six articles. this reading occupied several days. too. You see. And yet. was worth the burning and damning of fifty harmless girls. It was granting leave to a lamb to ask help of a wolf. let alone one. as it turned out. he was drawing the toils closer and closer. March 27th. For now having in mind another of Lovier's hints. and the tribunal decided that Joan should hear the articles read this time. and the Bishop of Beauvais opened with a speech to her which ought to have made even himself blush. before a dozen carefully selected judges. the new trial was begun. Maybe that was on account of Lohier's remark upon that head. out of their pity and their mercifulness. He said that this court. and with high confidence. Joan was brought in. will surprise you when you hear it. this man was born a devil. and that if she refused she should be considered convicted. Opinions were taken. to allow her to choose one or more persons out of their own number to help her with counsel and advice! Think of that—a court made up of Loyseleur and his breed of reptiles. This huge document was carried to the castle the next day. so laden it was with hypocrisy and lies. intimating with brutal cheerfulness that he should succeed this time. now think of his describing himself and those hardened slaves of his in such language as that.done him any harm. He said that this court was composed of holy and pious churchmen whose hearts were full of benevolence and compassion toward her.

sometimes merely denying its truth. step by step. a character supremely great. It calls her a sorceress. a dealer in magic. a person ignorant of the Catholic faith. What a strange document that was. of course. generous. seditious. unselfish. brave. Then he commanded Joan to answer straitly to every accusation. perverted. a schismatic. a false prophet. therefore he was satisfied.see if he was serious. As a child she had loved the fairies. pious. and led her to victory after victory—hence she was a disturber of the peace—as indeed she was. There it is—every fact of her life distorted. To know her from that document would be to know her as the exact reverse of all that. she beguiles both princes and people. scandalous. and threatened to cut her off from the Church if she failed to do that or delayed her answers beyond a given length of time. she is sacrilegious. and what an exhibition and exposure of the heart of man. He had made a show of fairness and could have it entered on the minutes. and remember who it is it is speaking of. a blasphemer of God and His saints. and perceiving that he was at least pretending to be. an idolater. Yes. she usurps divine honors. she declined. a disturber of the peace. Nothing that she was appears in it. an apostate. sometimes by saying her answer would be found in the records of the previous trials. she incites men to war. compassionate. and a provoker of war—as indeed she 332 . To know Joan of Arc was to know one who was wholly noble. article by article. she discards the decencies and proprieties of her sex. blameless as the very flowers in the fields—a nature fine and beautiful. she had spoken a pitying word for them when they were banished from their home. everything that she was not appears there in detail. the one creature authorized to boast that he is made in the image of God. truthful. reversed. Consider some of the things it charges against her. irreverently assuming the dress of a man and the vocation of a soldier. he was narrowing her chances down. offering her hands and her vestments to be kissed. pure. Joan answered to each article in its turn. modest. an invoker and companion of evil spirits. and has caused herself to be adored and venerated. The Bishop was not expecting any other reply. She had lifted France out of the mud and moved her to strike for freedom. and to the spilling of human blood. she had played under their tree and around their fountain—hence she was a comrade of evil spirits. Thomas de Courcelles began the reading of that interminable document.

The refusal was taken note of." She had the pluck to say to that deadly tribunal that she did not know the fairies to be evil beings. these proofs of a noble and beautiful life to evidences of a foul and odious one. Danger had no weight with her in such things. Of course. And she added this: "When one receives the sacrament. Joan went but little into detail herself. She answered. but it was not in her nature to speak anything but the truth when she spoke at all. as always before. And she had been adored—as if she could help that. this gold to dross. there's plenty to do it. and I did what I could to prevent it. poor thing. She refused to have her mission examined and tried by the earthly Church. She said: "If any kissed my hands and my vestments it was not by my desire. She spoke out with spirit and said: "I would rather die than be untrue to my oath to God. usually merely saying. Note was taken of her remark. the sixty-six articles were just a rehash of the things which had come up in the course of the previous trials. She knew it was a perilous thing to say.was again! and France will be proud of it and grateful for it for many a century to come. with some little touch of soldierly disdain: "As to the matter of women's work." 333 . so I will touch upon this new trial but lightly. "I have answered that before—let the clerk read it in his record. She refused. "That is not true—passez outre". She denied the accusation of idolatry and that she had sought men's homage. or was in any way to blame for it. In fact. detail by detail. or." She was charge with being so stubborn in clinging to her male dress that she would not lay it off even to get the blessed privilege of hearing mass. turning these waters of life to poison. when asked if she would put off the male attire if she were given permission to commune. the manner of his dress is a small thing and of no value in the eyes of Our Lord. And so the document went on. The cowed veteran and the wavering recruit had drunk the spirit of war from her eyes and touched her sword with theirs and moved forward invincible—hence she was a sorceress." She was reproached with doing man's work in the wars and thus deserting the industries proper to her sex." or saying some other brief thing.

if they could but succeed in getting her to formally discard it they could play a game upon her which would quickly destroy her." Then they presently began to pester her again about her male costume. was to make war and pour out human blood. As to the English.'" Doubt was cast upon the authenticity of her mission because of the ignorance and simplicity of the messenger chosen. but her second: "To begin with. the Burgundians being Frenchmen and therefore entitled to less brusque treatment than the English. She 334 . and able to look trouble and fate in the face. so I think it no wonder that I was puzzled by their persistency in what seemed a thing of no consequence." The judge mixed the Burgundians and English together in speaking of the enemy which Joan had come to make war upon. both by letters and by his ambassadors. I did not say that. then I would fight. I was never deep. I said 'all which I have well done." Then she said that even with the English she had shown a pacific disposition. Yes. We all know now that it was another of their treacherous projects.It was always a comfort to me to see the soldier spirit crop up in her. So they kept at their evil work until at last she broke out and said: "Peace! Without the permission of God I will not lay it off though you cut off my head!" At one point she corrected the proces verbal. "It appears that this mission of yours which you claim you had from God. contenting herself with explaining that war was not her first move." said she. I demanded that peace should be made. I required of him." At this point she uttered her prophecy again. saying: "It makes me say that everything which I have done was done by the counsel of Our Lord. the only peace for them was that they leave the country and go home. since she had warned them away by proclamation before attacking them. and could not make out what their reason could be. "they would have done wisely. But she showed that she made a distinction between them by act and word. She said: "As to the Duke of Burgundy. If it was refused." Joan replied quite simply. "If they had listened to me. While that remained in her she would be Joan of Arc. Joan smiled at that. that he make peace with the King. and tried to persuade her to voluntarily promise to discard it. But we all know now. saying with emphasis. "Before seven years they will see it themselves.

if you love me. In the field I always slept in my armor. She said: "I had a woman with me when I could—in towns and lodgings. in honor of your holy passion I beseech you. against the precepts of God and His saints." She was asked what form of prayer she used in invoking counsel from on high." She was charged with having dared. in her answer to this charge she did not condescend to go into any explanations or excuses. these were the oases in it. but she phrased her rebuke in simpler terms: "It is the prerogative of Our Lord to choose His instruments where He will. So the malignant Bishop set himself to work to plan it. She had a deep reverence for priests. Possibly a fourth trial might succeed in defeating this apparently unconquerable girl. then she lifted her pallid face and repeated it. so. This third trial was ended at last. she dearly loved to make these English-hearted Frenchmen squirm. And once again there was no definite result. had chosen the lowly for his high purposes even oftener than he had chosen bishops and cardinals. I pray you tell me what to do. clasping her chained hands: "Most dear God. it was his own act. She got great refreshment out of these little episodes. Her being in the wars with men was charged against her as an indelicacy." Death was staring her in the face here all the time. She said the form was brief and simple. but I know not in what manner I am to lay it off. but delivered herself with bland indifference and military brevity. She answered that she had not asked this grace of the King. I know by what command I have put it on. Her days were a desert. to assume empire over men and make herself Commander-inChief. "If I was Commander-in-Chief.could have reminded these people that Our Lord. it was to thrash the English. but the soldier in her had but small reverence for a priest's opinions about war. That touched the soldier in her. 335 . As concerns my dress. and whenever they gave her an opening she was prompt to jab her sting into it. who is no respecter of persons." That she and her family had been ennobled by the King was charged against her as evidence that the source of her deeds were sordid selfseeking. but no matter. that you will reveal to me what I am to answer to these churchmen.

But Cauchon was more than that. He asked Cauchon if he should enter Joan's submission to the Council of Basel upon the minutes. but before Isambard could say another word Cauchon turned savagely upon him and exclaimed: "Shut up. It would have touched the heart of a brute." It was piteous. Meantime Cauchon went to Joan's cell one day. "you set down everything that is against me. and said it contained as many priests of her party as of the English party. "No! It is not necessary. Joan cried out that she would gladly go before so fairly constructed a tribunal as that. too. but you will not set down what is for me. Joan once more positively refused. as a basis for the new attempt. Isambard de la Pierre and Martin Ladvenue. though he did it in great fear for his life. It took several days. reproachfully. 336 . with Manchon and two of the judges. to see if he could not manage somehow to beguile Joan into submitting her mission to the examination and decision of the Church Militant—that is to say. for he asked her if she would be willing to have her case go before the Council of Basel." "Ah. Isambard de la Pierre had a heart in his body.He appointed a commission to reduce the substance of the sixty-six articles to twelve compact lies. in the devil's name!" Then Manchon ventured to do a brave thing. to that part of the Church Militant which was represented by himself and his creatures. This was done. and he so pitied this persecuted poor girl that he ventured to do a very daring thing." said poor Joan.

It was just like Cauchon to go there and try to get some advantage out of her weakened state. but was willing to go before the Pope or the Council of Basel. Another of the Twelve says she claims that she has never committed any sin. she had high Catholic authority for committing it—that of the Archbishop of Rheims and the tribunal of Poitiers. She was willing to submit all her acts to this Rouen tribunal except those done by the command of God in fulfilment of her mission. A clause of another of the Twelve says she admits having threatened with death those who would not obey her. and were French in their politics. Catherine and St. She never made any such claim. Part of the first one says Joan asserts that she has found her salvation. She refused to recognize Cauchon and his serfs as the Church. Not true. Joan was ill. She had fallen ill the 29th of March. It also says she refuses to submit herself to the Church. all that she had done well—a correction made by herself as you have already seen. They were copied out and 337 . Another makes the wearing of the male dress a sin. the day after the close of the third trial.Chapter 14 Joan Struggles with Her Twelve Lies WE WERE now in the first days of April. She never said anything of the kind. If it was. and was growing worse when the scene which I have just described occurred in her cell. Distinctly false. Those she reserved for the judgment of God. Let us note some of the particulars in the new indictment—the Twelve Lies. The Twelve were to be submitted first to the learned doctors of theology of the University of Paris for approval. Marguerite spoke French and not English. Another clause says she declares that all she has done has been done by command of God. What she really said was. The Tenth Article was resentful against her for "pretending" that St.

for he was one of Cauchon's most loving and conscienceless slaves. these being men who could ruin Cauchon and would promptly do it if they got the conviction that he was capable of saving Joan from the stake by poisoning her and thus cheating the English out of all the real value gainable by her purchase from the Duke of Burgundy. for a report had gone abroad that Joan of Arc was sick until death. in case it had any—which it hadn't when acting in a political capacity. as at present—but it was a brave thing for that good Manchon to do. the pity and the love of the people would turn her wrongs and sufferings and death into a holy martyrdom. one would think. 338 . and excited crowds were flocking through all the chief streets. mind you cure her. That afternoon there was a great tumult in Rouen. Warwick was a hard man. and called her names and abused her. The Earl of Warwick and the English Cardinal (Winchester) hurried to the castle and sent messengers flying for physicians. chattering and seeking for news. Then Jean d'Estivet burst out on her. That fact would not be considered important by the University of Paris. April 5th. and he does not want her to die. for he bought her dear. and would not influence its decision or stir its humanity. Now then. and it outraged him to have Joan injure his master in the eyes of these great English chiefs. Then Manchon did another bold thing: he wrote in the margin that many of the Twelve put statements in Joan's mouth which were the exact opposite of what she had said. and she would be even a mightier power in France dead than she had been when alive. a rude. She said the Bishop of Beauvais had sent her a fish and she thought it was that. these long seances had worn her out.ready by the night of April 4th. She is dear to him. all the same. and she was ill indeed. coarse man. There lay the sick girl stretched in her chains in her iron cage—not an object to move man to ungentle speech. and that was not pleasing to him. The Twelve were sent to Paris next day. In truth. The King of England has no mind to have her die a natural death." The doctors asked Joan what had made her ill. save at the stake. The heads of the English party were in a state of consternation. you see. for if Joan should die uncondemned by the Church and go to the grave unsmirched. yet Warwick spoke right out in her hearing and said to the physicians: "Mind you take good care of her. He understood Joan to be charging the Bishop with poisoning her. a man without compassion.

Joan had a high fever, and the doctors proposed to bleed her. Warwick said: "Be careful about that; she is smart and is capable of killing herself." He meant that to escape the stake she might undo the bandage and let herself bleed to death. But the doctors bled her anyway, and then she was better. Not for long, though. Jean d'Estivet could not hold still, he was so worried and angry about the suspicion of poisoning which Joan had hinted at; so he came back in the evening and stormed at her till he brought the fever all back again. When Warwick heard of this he was in a fine temper, you may be sure, for here was his prey threatening to escape again, and all through the over-zeal of this meddling fool. Warwick gave D'Estivet a quite admirable cursing—admirable as to strength, I mean, for it was said by persons of culture that the art of it was not good—and after that the meddler kept still. Joan remained ill more than two weeks; then she grew better. She was still very weak, but she could bear a little persecution now without much danger to her life. It seemed to Cauchon a good time to furnish it. So he called together some of his doctors of theology and went to her dungeon. Manchon and I went along to keep the record—that is, to set down what might be useful to Cauchon, and leave out the rest. The sight of Joan gave me a shock. Why, she was but a shadow! It was difficult for me to realize that this frail little creature with the sad face and drooping form was the same Joan of Arc that I had so often seen, all fire and enthusiasm, charging through a hail of death and the lightning and thunder of the guns at the head of her battalions. It wrung my heart to see her looking like this. But Cauchon was not touched. He made another of those conscienceless speeches of his, all dripping with hypocrisy and guile. He told Joan that among her answers had been some which had seemed to endanger religion; and as she was ignorant and without knowledge of the Scriptures, he had brought some good and wise men to instruct her, if she desired it. Said he, "We are churchmen, and disposed by our good will as well as by our vocation to procure for you the salvation of your soul and your body, in every way in our power, just as we would do the like for our nearest kin or for ourselves. In this we but follow the example of Holy Church, who never closes the refuge of her bosom against any that are willing to return." Joan thanked him for these sayings and said:


"I seem to be in danger of death from this malady; if it be the pleasure of God that I die here, I beg that I may be heard in confession and also receive my Saviour; and that I may be buried in consecrated ground." Cauchon thought he saw his opportunity at last; this weakened body had the fear of an unblessed death before it and the pains of hell to follow. This stubborn spirit would surrender now. So he spoke out and said: "Then if you want the Sacraments, you must do as all good Catholics do, and submit to the Church." He was eager for her answer; but when it came there was no surrender in it, she still stood to her guns. She turned her head away and said wearily: "I have nothing more to say." Cauchon's temper was stirred, and he raised his voice threateningly and said that the more she was in danger of death the more she ought to amend her life; and again he refused the things she begged for unless she would submit to the Church. Joan said: "If I die in this prison I beg you to have me buried in holy ground; if you will not, I cast myself upon my Saviour." There was some more conversation of the like sort, then Cauchon demanded again, and imperiously, that she submit herself and all her deeds to the Church. His threatening and storming went for nothing. That body was weak, but the spirit in it was the spirit of Joan of Arc; and out of that came the steadfast answer which these people were already so familiar with and detested so sincerely: "Let come what may. I will neither do nor say any otherwise than I have said already in your tribunals." Then the good theologians took turn about and worried her with reasonings and arguments and Scriptures; and always they held the lure of the Sacraments before her famishing soul, and tried to bribe her with them to surrender her mission to the Church's judgment—that is to their judgment—as if they were the Church! But it availed nothing. I could have told them that beforehand, if they had asked me. But they never asked me anything; I was too humble a creature for their notice. Then the interview closed with a threat; a threat of fearful import; a threat calculated to make a Catholic Christian feel as if the ground were sinking from under him: "The Church calls upon you to submit; disobey, and she will abandon you as if you were a pagan!"


Think of being abandoned by the Church!—that August Power in whose hands is lodged the fate of the human race; whose scepter stretches beyond the furthest constellation that twinkles in the sky; whose authority is over millions that live and over the billions that wait trembling in purgatory for ransom or doom; whose smile opens the gates of heaven to you, whose frown delivers you to the fires of everlasting hell; a Power whose dominion overshadows and belittles the pomps and shows of a village. To be abandoned by one's King—yes, that is death, and death is much; but to be abandoned by Rome, to be abandoned by the Church! Ah, death is nothing to that, for that is consignment to endless life—and such a life! I could see the red waves tossing in that shoreless lake of fire, I could see the black myriads of the damned rise out of them and struggle and sink and rise again; and I knew that Joan was seeing what I saw, while she paused musing; and I believed that she must yield now, and in truth I hoped she would, for these men were able to make the threat good and deliver her over to eternal suffering, and I knew that it was in their natures to do it. But I was foolish to think that thought and hope that hope. Joan of Arc was not made as others are made. Fidelity to principle, fidelity to truth, fidelity to her word, all these were in her bone and in her flesh—they were parts of her. She could not change, she could not cast them out. She was the very genius of Fidelity; she was Steadfastness incarnated. Where she had taken her stand and planted her foot, there she would abide; hell itself could not move her from that place. Her Voices had not given her permission to make the sort of submission that was required, therefore she would stand fast. She would wait, in perfect obedience, let come what might. My heart was like lead in my body when I went out from that dungeon; but she—she was serene, she was not troubled. She had done what she believed to be her duty, and that was sufficient; the consequences were not her affair. The last thing she said that time was full of this serenity, full of contented repose: "I am a good Christian born and baptized, and a good Christian I will die."




Undaunted by Threat of Burning
TWO WEEKS went by; the second of May was come, the chill was departed out of the air, the wild flowers were springing in the glades and glens, the birds were piping in the woods, all nature was brilliant with sunshine, all spirits were renewed and refreshed, all hearts glad, the world was alive with hope and cheer, the plain beyond the Seine stretched away soft and rich and green, the river was limpid and lovely, the leafy islands were dainty to see, and flung still daintier reflections of themselves upon the shining water; and from the tall bluffs above the bridge Rouen was become again a delight to the eye, the most exquisite and satisfying picture of a town that nestles under the arch of heaven anywhere. When I say that all hearts were glad and hopeful, I mean it in a general sense. There were exceptions—we who were the friends of Joan of Arc, also Joan of Arc herself, that poor girl shut up there in that frowning stretch of mighty walls and towers: brooding in darkness, so close to the flooding downpour of sunshine yet so impossibly far away from it; so longing for any little glimpse of it, yet so implacably denied it by those wolves in the black gowns who were plotting her death and the blackening of her good name. Cauchon was ready to go on with his miserable work. He had a new scheme to try now. He would see what persuasion could do—argument, eloquence, poured out upon the incorrigible captive from the mouth of a trained expert. That was his plan. But the reading of the Twelve Articles to her was not a part of it. No, even Cauchon was ashamed to lay that monstrosity before her; even he had a remnant of shame in him, away down deep, a million fathoms deep, and that remnant asserted itself now and prevailed. On this fair second of May, then, the black company gathered itself together in the spacious chamber at the end of the great hall of the castle—the Bishop of Beauvais on his throne, and sixty-two minor judges


massed before him, with the guards and recorders at their stations and the orator at his desk. Then we heard the far clank of chains, and presently Joan entered with her keepers and took her seat upon her isolated bench. She was looking well now, and most fair and beautiful after her fortnight's rest from wordy persecution. She glanced about and noted the orator. Doubtless she divined the situation. The orator had written his speech all out, and had it in his hand, though he held it back of him out of sight. It was so thick that it resembled a book. He began flowing, but in the midst of a flowery period his memory failed him and he had to snatch a furtive glance at his manuscript—which much injured the effect. Again this happened, and then a third time. The poor man's face was red with embarrassment, the whole great house was pitying him, which made the matter worse; then Joan dropped in a remark which completed the trouble. She said: "Read your book—and then I will answer you!" Why, it was almost cruel the way those moldy veterans laughed; and as for the orator, he looked so flustered and helpless that almost anybody would have pitied him, and I had difficulty to keep from doing it myself. Yes, Joan was feeling very well after her rest, and the native mischief that was in her lay near the surface. It did not show when she made the remark, but I knew it was close in there back of the words. When the orator had gotten back his composure he did a wise thing; for he followed Joan's advice: he made no more attempts at sham impromptu oratory, but read his speech straight from his "book." In the speech he compressed the Twelve Articles into six, and made these his text. Every now and then he stopped and asked questions, and Joan replied. The nature of the Church Militant was explained, and once more Joan was asked to submit herself to it. She gave her usual answer. Then she was asked: "Do you believe the Church can err?" "I believe it cannot err; but for those deeds and words of mine which were done and uttered by command of God, I will answer to Him alone." "Will you say that you have no judge upon earth? Is not our Holy Father the Pope your judge?" "I will say nothing about it. I have a good Master who is our Lord, and to Him I will submit all."


Then came these terrible words: "If you do not submit to the Church you will be pronounced a heretic by these judges here present and burned at the stake!" Ah, that would have smitten you or me dead with fright, but it only roused the lion heart of Joan of Arc, and in her answer rang that martial note which had used to stir her soldiers like a bugle-call: "I will not say otherwise than I have said already; and if I saw the fire before me I would say it again!" It was uplifting to hear her battle-voice once more and see the battlelight burn in her eye. Many there were stirred; every man that was a man was stirred, whether friend or foe; and Manchon risked his life again, good soul, for he wrote in the margin of the record in good plain letters these brave words: "Superba responsio!" and there they have remained these sixty years, and there you may read them to this day. "Superba responsio!" Yes, it was just that. For this "superb answer" came from the lips of a girl of nineteen with death and hell staring her in the face. Of course, the matter of the male attire was gone over again; and as usual at wearisome length; also, as usual, the customary bribe was offered: if she would discard that dress voluntarily they would let her hear mass. But she answered as she had often answered before: "I will go in a woman's robe to all services of the Church if I may be permitted, but I will resume the other dress when I return to my cell." They set several traps for her in a tentative form; that is to say, they placed suppositious propositions before her and cunningly tried to commit her to one end of the propositions without committing themselves to the other. But she always saw the game and spoiled it. The trap was in this form: "Would you be willing to do so and so if we should give you leave?" Her answer was always in this form or to this effect: "When you give me leave, then you will know." Yes, Joan was at her best that second of May. She had all her wits about her, and they could not catch her anywhere. It was a long, long session, and all the old ground was fought over again, foot by foot, and the orator-expert worked all his persuasions, all his eloquence; but the result was the familiar one—a drawn battle, the sixty-two retiring upon their base, the solitary enemy holding her original position within her original lines.




Joan Stands Defiant Before the Rack
THE BRILLIANT weather, the heavenly weather, the bewitching weather made everybody's heart to sing, as I have told you; yes, Rouen was feeling light-hearted and gay, and most willing and ready to break out and laugh upon the least occasion; and so when the news went around that the young girl in the tower had scored another defeat against Bishop Cauchon there was abundant laughter—abundant laughter among the citizens of both parties, for they all hated the Bishop. It is true, the English-hearted majority of the people wanted Joan burned, but that did not keep them from laughing at the man they hated. It would have been perilous for anybody to laugh at the English chiefs or at the majority of Cauchon's assistant judges, but to laugh at Cauchon or D'Estivet and Loyseleur was safe—nobody would report it. The difference between Cauchon and cochon7 was not noticeable in speech, and so there was plenty of opportunity for puns; the opportunities were not thrown away. Some of the jokes got well worn in the course of two or three months, from repeated use; for every time Cauchon started a new trial the folk said "The sow has littered8 again"; and every time the trial failed they said it over again, with its other meaning, "The hog has made a mess of it." And so, on the third of May, Noel and I, drifting about the town, heard many a wide-mouthed lout let go his joke and his laugh, and then move tot he next group, proud of his wit and happy, to work it off again: "'Od's blood, the sow has littered five times, and five times has made a mess of it!" And now and then one was bold enough to say—but he said it softly: "Sixty-three and the might of England against a girl, and she camps on the field five times!"
7.Hog, pig. 8.Cochonner, to litter, to farrow; also, "to make a mess of"!


Cauchon was there. Yes. Corneille.Cauchon lived in the great palace of the Archbishop. do you think she shuddered? No. he had been thee. Cauchon raged and cursed over his defeats and his impotence during seven says. and it was guarded by English soldiery. and those red giants turning the windlass and pulling her limbs out of their sockets. for you have not cruel hearts. After a little. but do you think she quailed. she saw the attendants. the rack was there. but no matter. When Joan had taken her seat a resume of her "crimes" was read to her. there was no sign of that sort. and built of the plainest and thickest and solidest masonry—a dismal and forbidding structure. and I did not see how that body of anointed servants of the merciful Jesus could sit there and look so placid and indifferent. This was a memorable session. and I saw what turned me sick—the instruments of torture and the executioners standing ready! Here you have the black heart of Cauchon at the blackest. the upper half is of a later date. and you would never guess it. meet color for their bloody trade. and by it stood the executioner and his aids in their crimson hose and doublets. The picture of Joan rose before me stretched upon the rack. but as for fear. But this time we were to go to one of the other towers—not the one which was Joan's prison. her feet tied to one end of it. her wrists to the other. she showed not a vestige of it. 9. there was never a dark night but the walls showed next morning that the rude joker had been there with his paint and brush. and there was a slight curl of scorn about her lip. also six others. and the Vice-Inquisitor and the Abbot of St. The guards were in their places. here you have the proof that in his nature there was no such thing as pity. She straightened herself up. She saw the rack. among them that false Loyseleur. hogs clothed in a Bishop's vestments and wearing a Bishop's miter irreverently cocked on the side of their heads.The lower half of it remains to-day just as it was then. but it was the shortest one of all the list. It seemed to me that I could hear the bones snap and the flesh tear apart. — TRANSLATOR. One wonders if he ever knew his mother or ever had a sister. It was round and grim and massive. and the same picture which I had been seeing must have risen in her mind. Joan arrived and was brought in. On the ninth of May there was a summons. 346 . then he conceived a new scheme. and Manchon and I got out materials together and started. and had smeared the sacred walls with pictures of hogs in all attitudes except flattering ones.9 We entered the circular room on the ground floor. You shall see what it was.

He would score a victory this time and stop the mouths of the jokers of Rouen. no. And even if in my pain I did say something otherwise. It was like a lightning-flash at midnight which suddenly reveals a fair valley sprinkled over with silver streams and gleaming villages and farmsteads where was only an 347 . and when Joan came out with those simple common-sense words they seemed to flood the place with light. Why. It in he said that in the course of her several trials Joan had refused to answer some of the questions and had answered others with lies. You should have seen Cauchon.Then Cauchon made a solemn speech. red. and his splotchy face lighted itself up with all the shifting tints and signs of evil pleasure and promised triumph—purple. Her manner was full of confidence this time. he was only just a man after all. for her mark signed at the bottom of a confession would be the kind of evidence (for effect with the public) which Cauchon and his people were particularly value. And finally he burst out in a great passion and said: "There is the rack. He talked high. but it probably was. he was sure he had found a way at last to break this child's stubborn spirit and make her beg and cry. I do not know that that was true. Consider the depth. around the town. and the whole of it. you know. Defeated again. "Speak. there were not six men in the world who had ever reflected that words forced out of a person by horrible tortures were not necessarily words of verity and truth. yet this unlettered peasant-girl put her finger upon that flaw with an unerring instinct. not even if you tear the limbs from my body. green—they were all there. yellow. the wisdom of that answer. You see. the uncanniest of them all. there was no crushing that spirit. but that now he was going to have the truth out of her. and couldn't stand ridicule any better than other people. I would always say afterward that it was the torture that spoke and not I. and he had not dreamed of such a thing." There was no crushing that spirit. with sometimes the dull and spongy blue of a drowned man. I heard it said the next day. and no beclouding that clear mind. coming from an ignorant girl. made it without fuss or bravado. and there are its ministers! You will reveal all now or be put to the torture. I had always supposed that torture brought out the truth—everybody supposed it. that he had a full confession all written out. and yet how fine and noble was the sound of it: "I will tell you nothing more than I have told you." Then she made that great answer which will live forever. No. in his pocket and all ready for Joan to sign.

It was plain. Manchon stole a sidewise look at me. others did not believe that any amount of suffering could make her put her mark to a lying confession. that Cauchon and Loyseleur were insisting upon the application of the torture. but nobody applied. a fear that Joan might die under the torture." And the palace walls got a new decoration—a mitered hog carrying a discarded rack home on its shoulder. So all Rouen laughed again. and his face was full of surprise. and there was the like to be seen in other faces there. Two voted with the Bishop and insisted upon the torture. It was the pleasantest idea he had invented yet. and made six messes of it. There were two reasons.impenetrable world of darkness before. When Manchon came home that night he said he had found out why the torture was not applied. and that most of the others were urgently objecting. But it was a failure. which would not suit the English at all. and Loyseleur weeping in its wake. and as to putting her mark to a confession. including the Bishop. Many rewards were offered for the capture of these painters. Finally Cauchon broke out with a good deal of asperity in his voice and ordered Joan back to her dungeon. saying: "The sow has littered six times. that the torture would effect nothing if Joan was going to take back everything she said under its pains. and stood their ground in spite of Cauchon's abuse. yet here was a village maid able to teach them something which they had not known before. it was believed that not even the rack would ever make her do that. I was not expecting that the Bishop would yield. Even the English guard feigned blindness and would not see the artists at work. and urged the torture again. These two were Loyseleur and the orator—the man whom Joan had bidden to "read 348 . Now whence got she that marvelous insight?" The judges laid their heads together and began to talk now. Eleven of them voted dead against the torture. Consider—they were old. So he called in some of his satellites on the twelfth. The Bishop's anger was very high now. and it has crumbled to dust and rubbish under her touch. Joan's speech had wrought an effect. from chance words which one caught now and then. She has laid her hand upon an accepted truth that is as old as the world. I heard one of them mutter: "Verily it is a wonderful creature. others feared she might die under torture. the other was. and kept it up for three days. There were fourteen men present. and deeply cultured. One was. and he would not cast it by. That was a happy surprise for me. He could not reconcile himself to the idea of giving up the torture. With some.

Loyseleur. Age has taught me charity of speech. but it fails me when I think of those three names—Cauchon. the renowned pleader and master of eloquence. 349 . Courcelles.his book"—Thomas de Courcelles.

she was an out-of-door creature by nature and habit. she had been fond of talking with her mates. yes. she had been born for comradeship. and thoughts that travel by day and night and night and day round and round in the same circle. the University of Paris. but now she was shut up day and night in a steel cage like an animal. and the outlook for Joan growing steadily darker and darker all the time. and wear the brain and break the heart with weariness. and the delicate offices and gentle ministries which only these can furnish. were still weighing and considering and discussing the Twelve Lies. so I spent them mainly in walks about the town with Noel. 350 . but here were only dreariness. She was used to liberty. she had had an easy laugh. she was used to the thousand various sounds which are the cheer and music of a busy life. and brooding stillness. death in life. our spirits being so burdened with cares. and leaden hours. The great theologians of that treasury of all valuable knowledge and all wisdom. And there was another hard thing about it all. that is what it must have been. yet in all these months of gloomy captivity in her dungeon Joan never saw the face of a girl or a woman. and weary inaction. but now there was no one to talk to. But there was no pleasure in them. with her destitution in all. It was death in life. with her darkness and chains. A young girl in trouble needs the soothing solace and support and sympathy of persons of her own sex. I had had but little to do these ten days. with her lonely estate. Think how her heart would have leaped to see such a face. but now she was always in a gloom where all objects about her were dim and spectral. and blithe and busy work. our comradeship. but now she had none. And then we naturally contrasted our circumstances with hers: this freedom and sunshine. and all manner of joyous activities. she was used to the light. our alleviations of one sort and another. but it was gone dumb now.Chapter 17 Supreme in Direst Peril ANOTHER ten days' wait. but now she heard only the monotonous footfall of the sentry pacing his watch.

the faculties are at white heat. there is the joy of achievement. broke their lines. There she rose above the limitations and infirmities of our human nature. Joan of Arc was great always. if you would realize how great was the soul. remember that it was out of such a place and such circumstances that she came week after week and month after month and confronted the master intellects of France single-handed. and how luminous the intellect of Joan of Arc. but she was greatest in the Rouen trials. and answering threats of eternal death and the pains of hell with a simple "Let come what may. the presence of friendly faces. pagan or Christian. the soul is overflowing with life and energy. how profound the wisdom. defying torture. the inspiration of stir and movement. detected and avoided their secretest traps and pitfalls. they keep hand and heart and brain keyed up to their work. weariness." Yes. She was great in battle—we all know that. great in loyalty and patriotism. the applause which hails success. great in picturesque and eloquent speech. 351 . slaves and skulkers into battalions that march to death with songs on their lips. Yes.Consider. defeated their ablest plans. and baffled their cunningest schemes. true to her faith and her ideals. defying the stake. If you would realize how great Joan of Arc was. despondency. great in foresight. the meanest treacheries. here I take my stand and will abide. But all these are exalting activities. great everywhere. and camped on the field after every engagement. and accomplished under blighting and unnerving and hopeless conditions all that her splendid equipment of moral and intellectual forces could have accomplished if they had been supplemented by the mighty helps of hope and cheer and light. and the hardest hearts to be found in any land. with the great world looking on and wondering. where she fought out that long fight all alone—and not merely against the subtlest brains and deepest learning of France. and a fair and equal fight. steadfast always. but against the ignoble deceits. inertia—these do not exist. you must study her there. the gift of turning hares into heroes. supremely great in the gift of firing the hearts of hopeless men and noble enthusiasms. great in the ability to discover merit and genius wherever it lay hidden. repelled their assaults. great in persuading discontented chiefs and reconciling conflicting interests and passions.

and if Joan was deceived. it would need to prove that. 352 . and named them in the verdict: Belial.Chapter 18 Condemned Yet Unafraid TOWARD THE END of the ten-day interval the University of Paris rendered its decision concerning the Twelve Articles. Satan. the University decided emphatically that it was fiends who spoke in those Voices. Joan was guilty upon all the counts: she must renounce her errors and make satisfaction. I think the delay may have been caused by temporary difficulties concerning two points: 1. and not stopped with the mere assertion. while denying the like ability to a person with as good a head on her shoulders as the best one the University could produce. for their insight and judgment were surely not clearer than hers. and not entitled to much credit. The University's mind was probably already made up before the Articles were laid before it. it is argument that they in their turn could also be deceived. and I will tell you why. It found out who those fiends were. since it had made Joan explain how she knew they were not fiends. By this finding. As to who the fiends were who were represented in Joan's Voices. It had claimed that Joan's angels were devils in disguise. and Behemoth. Does not that seem reasonable? To my mind the University's position was weak. You understand. and we all know that devils do disguise themselves as angels. I think so for this reason: if the University had actually known it was those three. yet it took it from the fifth to the eighteenth to produce its verdict. but you see yourself that it eats its own argument when it turns around and pretends that it can tell who such apparitions are. it would for very consistency's sake have told how it knew it. up to that point the University's position was strong. The doctors of the University had to see those creatures in order to know. or be abandoned to the secular arm for punishment. and it did. As to whether her saints spoke French only. 2. This has always seemed a doubtful thing to me.

they had to give it up. always something away off yonder. He finished with a stern threat: if she remained obstinate the damnation of her soul was certain. Pierre Maurice. the situation was embarrassing. 1 and proving them to be angels in Article No." Only that!—a crown in heaven. trying to find some good common-sense reason for proving the Voices to be devils in Article No. but the rest insisted that she be once more "charitably admonished" first. She said: 353 . which was the thing Cauchon was destroying his soul for. the destruction of her body probable. and so. the University being the wisest and deepest and most erudite body in the world. So the same court met in the castle on the twenty-third. and with it a letter for Cauchon which was full of fervid praise. days and days. the University's verdict remains just so—devils in No. You see. a promissory note and no indorser. But Joan was immovable. Otherwise. The University complimented him on his zeal in hunting down this woman "whose venom had infected the faithful of the whole West. I think that the thing which troubled the doctors of theology was this: they had decided that the three Voices were Satan and two other devils. 10. and no way to reconcile the discrepancy. and Joan was brought to the bar. to this day. I will touch but a moment upon that. for the sake of its reputation. and were on the French side in political sympathies.As to the other point which I have thought may have proved a difficulty and cost the University delay. On the nineteenth of May a court of fifty judges sat in the archiepiscopal palace to discuss Joan's fate. after all his hard work. made a speech to Joan in which he admonished her to save her life and her soul by renouncing her errors and surrendering to the Church. 10. and if on the English side. then they must be angels and not devils. not a word about the Archbishopric of Rouen. The envoys brought the verdict to Rouen. but they had also decided that these Voices were not on the French side—thereby tacitly asserting that they were on the English side. A crown in heaven. They found no way out. However. it must have sounded like a sarcasm to him. it would like to be logical if it could. and pass on. a canon of Rouen. What should he do in heaven? he did not know anybody there." and as recompense it as good as promised him "a crown of imperishable glory in heaven. angels in No. 1. A few wanted her delivered over to the secular arm at once for punishment. The University decided that it was blasphemy for Joan to say that her saints spoke French and not English. therefore it would study and study.

my sight was dim with tears. turned to Pierre Maurice: "Have you anything further to say?" The priest bowed low. which endured some moments. and saw the fire before me."If I were under sentence." "Then the debate is closed. her sword held aloft. and the executioner ready to light it—more. To-morrow—twenty-fourth of May! Exactly a year since I saw her go speeding across the plain at the head of her troops. her silvery cape fluttering in the wind. and I would abide by them till I died. saw her wheel to the right and spur for the duke's reserves. saws her fling herself against it in the last assault she was ever to make." A deep silence followed now. have you anything further to say?" "Nothing. her silver helmet shining. Remove the prisoner. grave and solemn. and carry it. her white plumes flowing. It lay upon me like a weight. Then Cauchon. saw her charge the Burgundian camp three times." She seemed to go from the place erect and noble. and said: "Nothing. To-morrow. if I were in the fire itself. I would say none but the things which I have said in these trials. I knew it for an omen. my lord. sentence will be pronounced. And now that fatal day was come again—and see what it was bringing! 354 . But I do not know." "Prisoner at the bar.

What would his Archbishopric be worth if the people should get the idea into their heads that this faction of interested priests. deadly fatigue. the victory was not complete yet. had wrongly condemned and burned Joan of Arc. That hint was also remembered. No. and it was remembered. and.Chapter 19 Our Last Hopes of Rescue Fail JOAN HAD been adjudged guilty of heresy. She had furnished another hint at the same time: that as soon as the pains were gone. what was left? Illness. you think? He was satisfied? Not at all. His work was finished now. Deliverer of France? That would be to make of her a holy martyr. It was a hint worth remembering. the fire had been threatened. and in public—at least she must seem to do it. she would retract the confession. slaving under the English lash. Now that was a shrewd thought. 355 . and the sight of the fire. Yes. He could send her to the stake at once. Joan's guilt must be established by evidence which would satisfy the people. and sweep the English domination into the sea. it was shrewdly thought. She had tacitly said herself that under the bitter pains of the rack they would be able to extort a false confession from her. But how was this to be managed? Weeks had been spent already in trying to get her to surrender—time wholly wasted. a thousandfold reinforced. and Cauchon along with it. She was but a girl after all. and her life was in Cauchon's hands at last. the presence of the fire! That was left. Then her spirit would rise from her body's ashes. under illness and exhaustion. Where was that evidence to be found? There was only one person in the world who could furnish it—Joan of Arc herself. what was to persuade her now? Torture had been threatened. She must condemn herself. sorcery. subject to a girl's weaknesses. and all the other terrible crimes set forth in the Twelve Articles.

These were the several moves. friend. The world knows now that Cauchon's plan was as I have sketched it to you. that only Loyseleur and Beaupere. they must wear out her strength. First. you see. and that then she would straightway get out of the clutches of the dreaded English and be transferred to the Church's prison. That would not answer. but the world did not know it at that time. then frighten her with the fire. Her lapse would condemn her to the stake. 356 . Loyseleur was smuggled into her presence. Very well. and in the character of priest. Sometimes I have doubted if even Loyseleur and Beaupere knew the whole of it at first. then slip a long and deadly one into its place and trick her into signing that. he spent some hours in beseeching her to do "the only right an righteous thing"—submit to the Church. It is usual to let the condemned pass their last night of life in peace. Cauchon would make promises to her. if one may credit the rumors of the time. Suppose that during the reading her courage should return?—she would refuse to sign then. They could read a short paper of no importance. there was nothing to do but to make them. each in its order. She had escaped from two prisons already. it was these two. Yet there was still one other difficulty. However. But she would demand a reading of the paper. for only her death would content the English. He knew where to touch her. with the public there to hear. Alive she was a terror. but they could not kill her. if any did. They could keep her in a prison of the Church. where she would be honorably used and have women about her for jailers. in return she would promise to leave off the male dress. Second. knew the scheme. and the stake would be ready. and that would so situate her that she would not be able to keep hers. would go to her pitiful death. If they made her seem to abjure. she must be made to sign a paper. and secret partisan of France and hater of England. One might almost name the day that the betrayed girl. also. that would free her from the death-penalty. on the French side.She had herself taught them what to do. while the fright was on her. He would violate his promises. in a prison or out of it. even that difficulty could be got over. They could not venture to refuse this. the most innocent creature in France and the noblest. and the game was won. There are sufficient indications that Warwick and all the other English chiefs except the highest one—the Cardinal of Winchester—were not let into the secret. But even that difficulty could be managed. as a good Christian should. but this grace was denied to poor Joan.

when the gate was closed at last. and would be sentenced and burned alive on the morrow. turned those nine hundred monks into Joan's old campaigners. I do not need to tell you that there was no rest for me that night. this time with a hope which our wearied bodies and fevered minds magnified into a large probability. We had no heart for that place. Nor for Noel. based upon that vague prophecy of Joan's Voices which seemed to promise a rescue by force at the last moment. and in ill condition to stand out against persuasions. The streets were surging tides of excited men. and we watched 357 . Toward midnight our aimless tramp brought us to the neighborhood of the beautiful church of St. And so. he knew that her Voices had vaguely promised something which she interpreted to be escape. and more disappointed than we cared to admit.He knew how odious to her was the presence of her rough and profane English guards. Ouen. At dawn we were at the city gate again. Our desire. and the chance to burst upon France once more and victoriously complete the great work which she had been commissioned of Heaven to do. The immense news had flown swiftly far and wide that at last Joan of Arc was condemned. with a hope in our minds. and also be purblind to traps and snares which it would be swift to detect when in its normal estate. abetted by our imagination. We had heard a report that the Abbot of Jumieges with all his monks was coming to witness the burning. and the sight of the stake. threats. and certainly there were no familiar faces among them. We went to the main gate of the city before nightfall. and so crowds of people were flowing in at the gate. We scanned these crowds eagerly. and their Abbot into La Hire or the Bastard or D'Alencon. and through a guarded passage dividing the pack. these being people who brought doubtful passes or none at all. It was difficult to make one's way. we turned away grieved. her tired mind would be dazed and drowsy on the morrow. the answer was: "Scaffolds and the stake. Don't you know that the French witch is to be burned in the morning?" Then we went away. and there all was bustle and work. either in speech or thought. but thee was nothing about them to indicate that they were our old war-comrades in disguise. rescue. and other crowds were being refused admission by the soldiery. The square was a wilderness of torches and people. Also there was that other thing: if her failing body could be further weakened by loss of rest and sleep now. We asked what was going forward. release of some sort. laborers were carrying planks and timbers and disappearing with them through the gate of the churchyard.

and we tried to catch glimpses of the faces under the cowls. unchallenged. you know. the multitude respectfully dividing and uncovering while they passed.them file in. believeth all things. with our hearts in our throats and our eyes swimming with tears of joy and pride and exultation. and were prepared to give signal to any recognized face that we were Joan's men and ready and eager to kill and be killed in the good cause. and youth hopeth all things. How foolish we were! But we were young. 358 .

eight abbots. On this same platform was a crowd of priests and important citizens. and richly carpeted. turn as I would. the Vice-Inquisitor. the stake. handsomely canopied against sun and rain. and yet. his Eminence the Cardinal of Winchester. fine and sightly in their polished steel. and raised above the general level. such fascination has the gruesome and the terrible for us. On the ground at the base of the pyramid stood three crimson figures. Ouen. The sight of the stake sent physical pains tingling down the nerves of my body. Abreast it. was another and larger platform. Think of that. and there 359 . with a small space between. the executioner and his assistants. standing elbow to elbow. built up in retreating courses. under the eaves of St. also it was furnished with comfortable chairs. and the sixty-two friars and lawyers who had sat as Joan's judges in her late trials. the other by Cauchon. We seem so delicately made. thus forming steps. and with two which were more sumptuous than the others. One of these two was occupied by a prince of the royal blood of England. in the churchyard. Twenty steps in front of the platforms was another—a table-topped pyramid of stone. It was on a platform raised the height of a man. so insubstantial. a foot or two from this was a supplemental supply of wood and fagots compacted into a pile shoulder-high and containing as much as six packhorse loads. so destructible. The space occupied by the platforms and the stake was kept open by a wall of English soldiery. erect and stalwart figures. In the rest of the chairs sat three bishops. At their feet lay what had been a goodly heap of brands. yet it is easier to reduce a granite statue to ashes than it is to do that with a man's body. and several lawyers. my eyes would keep coming back t it. about the stake bundles of fagots and firewood were piled. but was now a smokeless nest of ruddy coals. while from behind them on every hand stretched far away a level plain of human heads. Out of this rose that grisly thing.Chapter 20 The Betrayal IN THE MORNING I was at my official post. Bishop of Beauvais.

no stir. this airless and suffocating void. Weak as she was they made her walk. it was the prisoner and her escort. drooping with exhaustion. indifferent to everything. and made all other names and 360 . crisp phrases of command. and assuring her that if she would do this all would be well with her: she would be rid of the dreaded English and find safety in the powerful shelter and protection of the Church. The impressiveness of this silence and solemnity was deepened by a leaden twilight. and whose feet had lost their powers from inaction. and the steady swing of a marching host was glimpsed between. and above the remote horizon faint winkings of heat-lightning played. and for a year Joan had known only the cool damps of a dungeon. for these people realized that at last they were looking upon that person whom they had so long hungered to see. At last the stillness was broken. but familiar—court. A miserable man. there was that creature Loyseleur at her side with his head bent to her ear. No. and with what intensity all eyes gazed upon this fragile girl! And how natural it was. And she was so white again—white as alabaster. and now she was dragging herself through this sultry summer heat. my spirits sank as low as they had been before. they would increase her weakness all they could. but was black with patches and masses of people. under guard. a stony-hearted man! The moment Joan was seated on the platform she closed her eyes and allowed her chin to fall. with her hands nestling in her lap. that was coming. But there was no noise. As she entered the gate. for the sky was hidden by a pall of low-hanging storm-clouds. next I saw the plain of heads dividing. Was it La Hire and his hellions? No—that was not their gait. howsoever distant. The distance was not great—it was but a few hundred yards—but short as it was it was a heavy tax upon one who had been lying chained in one spot for months. How the faces of that packed mass of humanity lighted up with interest. and that he was now still at the same work at the gate. From beyond the square rose an indistinct sound. We knew afterward that he had been with her again this morning in the prison wearying her with his persuasions and enticing her with false promises. and now and then one caught the dull mutterings and complainings of distant thunder. a person whose name and fame filled all Europe. My heart leaped for a moment. imploring her to yield everything that would be required of her. it was as if the world was dead. caring for nothing but rest.was no window and no housetop within our view. and so sat. Yes. it was Joan of Arc.

and fought a long campaign. the wonder of the time. this child with the good face. and her eyes began to burn and flash. the beautiful face. she seemed lost in dreams. At last he launched this apostrophe: "O France. and destined to be the wonder of all times! And I could read as by print. at this moment. against the massed brains and learning of France—and had won it if the fight had been fair!" Evidently Cauchon had grown afraid of Manchon because of his pretty apparent leanings toward Joan. solitary and alone. the dear and bonny face. that has carried fortresses by storm. the sweet face. Joan. Well. she made no sign. charged at the head of victorious armies. Joan of Arc. the words and deeds of a worthless and infamous woman!" Joan raised her head. who calls himself thy King and governor. like the heretic and schismatic that he is. Charles. and she turned upon the preacher and flung out 361 . but to her dying moment she could never hear in patience a word against that ingrate. she did not seem to hear. one more device had been invented. that it is this little creature. this girl. sword in hand. This was to preach a long sermon to her in that oppressive heat. I suppose that everything had been done which could be thought of to tire Joan's body and mind. that I speak. but it was a mistake. how hast thou been abused! Thou hast always been the home of Christianity. This preacher was Guillaume Erard. whose proper place was here. the words that were drifting through their minds: "Can it be true. but now. Joan's loyal soul was outraged. blown the might of England out of her path with a breath. that treacherous dog our King. for another recorder was in the chief place here. and I tell you that your King is schismatic and a heretic!" Ah. he might abuse her to his heart's content. working himself into a whirlwind of fury as he went on. she could endure that. in their marveling countenances. routing these reptiles and saving this most noble servant that ever King had in this world—and he would have been there if he had not been what I have called him.all other renowns insignificant by comparisons. is it believable. she cast up one distressed and disappointed look. When the preacher began. The preacher turned to her: "It is to you. but his labors were wasted. which left my master and me nothing to do but sit idle and look on. He got his text from the Twelve Lies. He emptied upon Joan al the calumnies in detail that had been bottled up in that mass of venom. an oratorical celebrity. and called her all the brutal names that the Twelve were labeled with. indorses. then dropped her head again.

A mob has small respect for a grown man who has to call on a sheriff to protect him from a sick girl. He stamped his foot and shouted to the sheriff: "Make her shut up!" That made the crowd laugh. and the best lover of the faith and the Church!" There was an explosion of applause from the crowd—which angered the preacher. exhausted. it would soon return. that he is the most noble Christian of all Christians. and would not be able to put forth any more resistance. It was there to see this girl burnt. But they could have availed her nothing in any case." Again. Yet they made every churchman there blench. and had trouble to get a good start again. Well might those criminals blench. and now that it was come at last it had fallen to the wrong person: he had done all the work. so he was much put out. I appeal. with the stake there and these thousands of enemies about her. out of her native wisdom. It had but obeyed a law of our nature—an irresistible law—to enjoy and applaud a spirited and promptly delivered retort. she made one more effort to hold her ground. and. I have told them to report all that I have said and done to our Holy Father the Pope—to whom. Joan had damaged the preacher's cause more with one sentence than he had helped it with a hundred. It was mainly an English-feeling mob. thee was no occasion.a few words with a spirit which the crowd recognized as being in accordance with the Joan of Arc traditions: "By my faith. to look at her it seemed that they must be right. so that it got that satisfaction—without too much delay—it would be content. on pain of death. He made the demand with confidence. The mob was with the preacher. I have answered my judges before. it had been beguiled for a moment. wearily: "As to that matter. Nevertheless. and the preacher changed the subject with all haste. and to God first. no matter who makes it. sir! I make bold to say and swear. but was ignorant of their value. indeed. she had brought those words of tremendous import. the other had carried off all the spoil. for he had gotten the idea from Loyseleur and Beaupere that she was worn to the bone. But he needn't have bothered. for he had been aching long to hear an expression like this. and annulled all that he and his 362 . now. and said. Presently the preacher formally summoned Joan to submit to the Church. for Joan's appeal of her case to the Pope stripped Cauchon at once of jurisdiction over it. but only that.

If there is any fault in them. after some further talk. and it was not necessary to go to him anyway. tired of the scorching heat. and were in effect "the Church" to that extent. She said: "I charge my deeds and words upon no one. In her despair she sent out this beseeching cry: "I appeal to the Church universal whether I ought to abjure or not!" Erard exclaimed: "You shall abjure instantly. when an attempt was made to implicate the King." She was asked if she would not recant those of her words and deeds which had been pronounced evil by her judges. and who frankly consents—offers to submit it to the very head of it. Here was a person who was asked to submit her case to the Church. and asked her to abjure. under exhaustion.judges had already done in the matter and all that they should do in it henceforth. Erard showed Joan a written form. then. they were not comfortable enough now. Joan went on presently to reiterate. and she could not gather the meaning. in so close a place: they said the Pope was so far away. The mob was getting impatient. that she had acted by command of God in her deeds and utterances. or instantly be burnt!" 363 . she stopped that. but not now. It was explained to her by Massieu. I am responsible and no other. it was tired of standing. It was necessary to hurry this matter to a close. Here answer made confusion and damage again: "I submit them to God and the Pope. which had been prepared and made all ready beforehand. It was all a jumble and confusion of strange words. because the present judges had sufficient power and authority to deal with the present case. neither upon my King nor any other. "Abjure? What is abjure?" She did not know the word. At another time they could have smiled at this conceit. She tried to understand. It was beginning to put on a threatening aspect." The Pope once more! It was very embarrassing. the lightning was flashing brighter. but she was breaking. Then they brought forth this sufficiently shambling conclusion—but it was the best they could do. What more could any one require? How was one to answer such a formidably unanswerable answer as that? The worried judges put their heads together and whispered and planned and discussed. and the thunder was coming nearer. and friends of hers and his.

"Do as I told you—do not destroy yourself!" Joan said plaintively to these people: "Ah. at those awful words. in pathetic apology. for her wandering mind was far away in some happier world. even the iron in their hearts melted. and bowed her head and said: "I submit. and they said: "O Joan. a dealer with devils. and she was repeating the words after him mechanically. saying. and for the first time she saw the stake and the mass of red coals—redder and angrier than ever now under the constantly deepening storm-gloom. The great crime was accomplished." The judges joined their voices to the others. Then this short paper of six lines was slipped aside and a long one of many pages was smuggled into its place. "sign—sign and be saved!" And Loyseleur was urging at her ear. there were many voices beseeching and urging her at once. But a secretary of the King of England was there to take care of that defect. She had signed a paper confessing herself a sorceress. you do not do well to seduce me. and wrote her name—Jehanne. a blasphemer of God and His 364 . and she. The moment the words were out of her mouth Massieu was reading to her the abjuration. Yes. or we must deliver you up to punishment. or thinks he dreams. a liar. and gazed vacantly upon the people and the scene about her like one who is dazed. he guided her hand with his own. unconsciously—and smiling. She had signed—what? She did not know—but the others knew. put her mark on it. noting nothing." They gave her no time to reconsider—they knew the peril of that. She stood looking about her in a bewildered way a moment. that she did not know how to write. The priests crowded about her imploring her to sign the paper. "Sign! sign!" from the priests. and does not know where he is. there was great turmoil and shouting and excitement among the populace and everywhere. She gasped and staggered up out of her seat muttering and mumbling incoherently. we pity you so! Take back what you have said.She glanced up." And now there was another voice—it was from the other platform—pealing solemnly above the din: Cauchon's—reading the sentence of death! Joan's strength was all spent. then slowly she sank to her knees.

paralyzed. wicked. with all the dear privileges of worship. and that one could be made to destroy her. cruel. and for just one moment she thought of the glorious deliverance promised by her Voices—I read it in the rapture that lit her face. Loyseleur had distinctly said and promised that "all would be well with her. and have women about her in place of a brutal foreign soldiery. take me to your prison. never to revive again. smitten. then she saw what it was—her prison escort—and that light faded. betrayed. but that one would answer." But she was still dreamy. when he was urging her to abjure. you men of the Church. and she gathered up her chains and prepared to move. she is sentenced to perpetual imprisonment. she hardly heard. was a straight. added these crushing words: "And that she may repent of her crimes and repeat them no more. Loyseleur pressed forward and praised her for having done "such a good day's work. commissioned of Satan. Ah. There were other promises. that by another clear promise made by Cauchon himself—she would at least be the Church's captive. and this signature of hers bound her to resume the dress of a woman. with such solacement as the thought could furnish. So she turned to the body of priests and said. she saw it all now. on that very platform. She had been beguiled.angels. then she remembered. with a sad resignation: "Now. She stood stunned and speechless a moment. with the bread of affliction and the water of anguish!" Perpetual imprisonment! She had never dreamed of that—such a thing had never been hinted to her by Loyseleur or by any other." And the very last words spoken to her by Erard. a lover of blood. It was pitiful to see. And now her head 365 . unqualified promised—that if she would do it she should go free from captivity. without the others. she heard that! You could see it in the deep gratitude that rose in her face and transfigured it with joy. without a tremor of pity in his voice. a promoter of sedition. But how transient was that happiness! For Cauchon. lied to. But alas! now came these shameful words from Cauchon—and with them a mocking laugh: "Take her to the prison whence she came!" Poor abused girl! She stood dumb. and leave me no longer in the hands of the English". The rumbling of a drum broke upon the stillness. Then Cauchon pronounced the words which dissolved the excommunication and restored her to her beloved Church.

this way and that. 366 . then drearily she went from us. or when one's heart is broken. and sobbing bitterly. swaying slowly. as is the way when one is suffering unwordable pain.began a piteous rocking motion. with her face in her hands.

and that Joan of Arc was going to be allowed to cheat the stake. indeed. He was a doughty soldier. and swore that the King of England was being treacherously used. alive and whole—slipping out of their grip at last. But they whispered comfort into his ear: 367 .Chapter 21 Respited Only for Torture THERE IS no certainty that any one in all Rouen was in the secret of the deep game which Cauchon was playing except the Cardinal of Winchester. So he burst out in his frank warrior fashion. The Early of Warwick lost his temper. shaking his fist in his face and shouting: "By God. but when it came to the intellectuals—when it came to delicate chicane. maledictions and charges of treachery began to fly freely. when they saw Joan of Arc moving away. Nobody was able to stir or speak for a while. and even stones: a stone came near killing the Cardinal of Winchester—it just missed his head. he certainly was the last Frenchman that any Briton had a right to bring that charge against. so unbelievable the fact that the stake was actually standing there unoccupied and its prey gone. so paralyzing was the universal astonishment. Then you can imagine the astonishment and stupefaction of that vast mob gathered there and those crowds of churchmen assembled on the two platforms. Then suddenly everybody broke into a fury of rage. for a while. and scheming. The tumult was very great. and a person who is excited never can throw straight. and trickery—he couldn't see any further through a millstone than another. for he was excited. yes. In the midst of it a chaplain of the Cardinal even forgot the proprieties so far as to opprobriously assail the August Bishop of Beauvais himself. too. after all this tedious waiting. But the man who threw it was not to blame. He a traitor! Oh. all this tantalizing expectancy. you are a traitor!" "You lie!" responded the Bishop. far from it.

taking but dull note of the things done. Joan's life was saved. her mental and physical forces in a state of prostration. He had witnesses to these facts. She was like a person who has taken a narcotic and is dying for sleep. and but dully recording them in the memory. let us count the seconds! O happy day. the ragings presently quieted down. happier than any words can tell—for we were not in the secret any more than the rest. then her gallant sons would flock to her standard by thousands and thousands. At any rate. O day of ecstasy. and who mechanically does everything the persecutor asks. to resume the apparel of her sex. indignant France. we shall soon have her again. And so Joan put on the gown which Cauchon and his people had brought. that she had made certain promises—among them. and their wrath would be like the wrath of the ocean when the storm-winds sweep it. yes. Cauchon and some of his people followed her to her lair straightway."Give yourself no uneasiness. How could matters be better? But suppose she should not relapse? Why. and the huge concourse crumbled apart and disappeared. 368 . and would come to herself by and by. grateful France." Perhaps the like tidings found their way all around. we were very young. and they would hurl themselves against this doomed city and overwhelm it like the resistless tides of that ocean. the Church would cast her out for good and all. France would hear of this day's infamous work—and then! Why. dying for rest from nagging. multitudes upon multitudes. She heard the words. also she had been formally warned against relapsing. And thus we reached the noon of that fearful Thursday. let us count the minutes. for good news travels fast as well as bad. would be thundering at these gates—let us count the hours. Cauchon went away happy and content. They told her she had abjured. and that was enough. they found her dazed and dull. and Joan of Arc would march again! In six days—seven days—one short week—noble France. We two youths were happy. how our hearts sang in our bosoms! For we were young then. my lord. and have at first but a dim idea as to when and how the change had come about. Joan had resumed woman's dress without protest. dying to be let alone. but they had no meaning to her. then she must be forced to do it. with those sleuth-hounds on her track. and that if she relapsed. We knew that. Do you think the exhausted prisoner was allowed to rest and sleep after she had spent the small remnant of her strength in dragging her tired body back to the dungeon? No. there was no rest for her.

369 . I will not do it. from that moment Joan's life in that dungeon was made almost unendurable. and no official notice was taken of it. no official notice would be taken of it? Perhaps so.Did Cauchon hint to the English guards that thenceforth if they chose to make their prisoner's captivity crueler and bitterer than ever. since the guards did begin that policy at once. Yes. Do not ask me to enlarge upon it.

lazy weather. merry congratulations. we were delirious with pride and joy. We are so strangely made. Sunday morning came. and her captivity made as pleasant and comfortable for her as the circumstances would allow. drunk with the happiness of it. So. scores. and Joan free! Our imagination was on fire. 370 . she was being gently used now. and fought our part of the fight over and over again during those two happy days—as happy days as ever I have known. enjoying the balmy. We supposed that as Joan had abjured and been taken back into the forgiving bosom of the Church. That was more than sixty years ago. We knew nothing about what had been happening in the dungeon in the yester-afternoon. and thinking. and soon it came nearer. I was awake. all the world seemed filled with the brutal joy of it. Thinking of the rescue—what else? I had no other thought now. we planned out our share in the great rescue. And there were other clamors—the clatter of rushing feet. Soon other voices took up that cry—tens. but that triumphant note rings as clear in my memory today as it rang in my ear that long-vanished summer morning. it turned my blood to ice. I heard a voice shouting far down the street. the memories that could make us happy pass away. bursts of coarse laughter. it is the memories that break our hearts that abide. I was absorbed in that. the boom and crash of distant bands profaning the sacred day with the music of victory and thanksgiving. and I caught the words: "Joan of Arc has relapsed! The witch's time has come!" It stopped my heart. For we were very young.Chapter 22 Joan Gives the Fatal Answer FRIDAY and Saturday were happy days for Noel and me. in high contentment. the rolling of drums. hundreds of voices. Our minds were full of our splendid dream of France aroused—France shaking her mane—France on the march—France at the gates—Rouen in ashes. as I have said.

one of the guards stole her female apparel and put her male attire in its place. though. We could see plenty of evidences of this from our own windows—fist-shaking. They had laid hands upon a number of churchmen who were trying to enter the castle. When she woke she asked for the other dress. That was her way. indeed." To my mind these were as good as dead men. She accused nobody. tumultuous tides of furious men billowing by along the street. and among them many half-drunk English soldiers. and it had been difficult work to rescue them and save their lives. She was sitting there in her chains. you will be employing your tongues in a different sort from this—and I shall be there to hear. He said he would not go a step without a safeguard from Warwick. and her mind had cleared now. The soldiers protected us from bodily damage. so she put on 371 . these people had gone beyond words. and all Rouen was in an angry and threatening mood. But by that time distrust had already taken possession of the English and their soldiery again. not in the subordinate but in the master—Cauchon. Matters had not grown peacefuler meantime. clothed again in her male attire. Joan had relapsed. and said she was forbidden to wear the male dress. How many of them would still be alive after the rescue that was coming? Not more than enough to amuse the executioner a short half-hour. in the early morning of Sunday. for modesty's sake. But they continued to refuse. And we learned that up at the castle things were going very badly. Here is what had happened. She had to have clothing. she saw that she could not save her life if she must fight for it against treacheries like this. my lads. And so Manchon refused to go. Moreover. that there was a great mob gathered there who considered the relapse a lie and a priestly trick. "In three or four short days. While Joan slept. but worse. moreover. but as we passed through the great mob at the castle we were assailed with insults and shameful epithets. certainly. and said to myself. black looks. and she knew that the advantage which had been taken of her the previous morning had its origin. and then we went. with secret satisfaction. It turned out that the report was true. So next morning Warwick sent an escort of soldiers. It was not in her character to hold a servant to account for what his master had made him do. She protested. I bore it well enough. but the guards refused to give it back.About the middle of the afternoon came a summons for Manchon and me to go to Joan's dungeon—a summons from Cauchon.

" 372 . and said: "There is something suspicious about this. when I was expecting to find her situation so different." I was full of anxiety to hear her answer to that question. Cauchon's victory was complete. forlorn. poor man.the forbidden garments. We had followed in the wake of Cauchon. the Vice-Inquisitor. He went trailing his robes and stood grandly in front of Joan. She was weary of the struggle. but I thought I understood Joan to say that she had resumed it of her own motion. who was a man with more insight than prudence. Presently the judges began to question Joan. and contentment and serenity had taken its place. "Why have you resumed this male habit?" I did not quite catch her answer. but had not realized it. possibly I had believed in it. knowing what the end would be. How could it have come about without connivance on the part of others? Perhaps even something worse?" "Thousand devils!" screamed Cauchon. named Marguerie. with his legs apart. He had had a harassed and irritated and disgusted look for a long time. and remained so more than a minute. but that was all gone now. and made a rush for Marguerie with their lances leveled. Saviour of the World. who kept no promises himself. "But you have promised and sworn that you would not go back to it. His purple face was full of tranquil and malicious happiness. and when it came it was just what I was expecting. I had doubted the relapse perhaps. in a fury. Lord of the Universe—in case England kept her promise to him. who had won so lofty a place for him in the service of the meek and merciful Jesus. gloating over her and enjoying the sight of this poor ruined creature. "Will you shut your mouth?" "Armagnac! Traitor!" shouted the soldiers on guard. The other judges proceeded with the questionings. She said—quiet quietly: "I have never intended and never understood myself to swear I would not resume it. and the others—six or eight—and when I saw Joan sitting there. He made no more attempts to help the inquiry. I did not know what to make of it. despondent. One of them. It was with the greatest difficulty that he was saved from being run through the body. poor thing. The shock was very great. for just then a soldier's halberd slipped from his fingers and fell on the stone floor with a crash. and still in chains. remarked upon Joan's change of clothing.

373 . and did it with the untroubled mien of one who was not conscious that she had ever knowingly repudiated it.There—I had been sure. but understood now by revelation of her Voices and by testimony of her persecutors. knowing that it would deliver her body up to that very fire which had such terrors for her. and have a woman about me. So I was convinced once more that she had had no notion of what she was doing that Thursday morning on the platform. you have abjured. fear of the fire had made her sign a paper whose contents she had not understood then. as you see. all along." Then Joan held out her fettered hands sorrowfully toward these unfeeling men and said: "I would rather die than continue so. but perhaps Joan could be led to add something to that fatal crime." "Nevertheless. Then she went on to add this: "But I had a right to resume it. The resumption of the male dress was sufficient for all practical purposes. and will do what shall seem good to you that I do. temporarily. and then it came out that the Voices had talked with her about the abjuration—told her about it. "Yes. and with it her inborn loyalty to the truth. and be removed to a penitential prison. because the promises made to me have not been kept—promises that I should be allowed to go to mass and receive the communion. "But it was the fear of the fire that made me do so. But if they may be taken off. and for advantage." Then she sighed. and said with simplicity. I will be good. "My Voices told me I did very wrong to confess that what I had done was not well." That is. and this answer of hers was proof that I had not been mistaken. She was bravely and serenely speaking it again. but they have served their turn—let something of a fresher sort and of more consequence be considered. that she did not know what she was doing and saying on the platform Thursday." Cauchon sniffed scoffingly at that. her courage had come back. and have especially promised to return no more to the dress of a man. She was sane now and not exhausted. She guilelessly reasserted the heavenly origin of her mission. and if I may hear mass. Finally she said. I suppose. So Cauchon asked her if her Voices had spoken to her since Thursday—and he reminded her of her abjuration. and that I should be freed from the bondage of these chains—but they are still upon me. Honor the compact which he and his had made with her? Fulfil its conditions? What need of that? Conditions had been a good thing to concede." she answered.

I knew she was pronouncing sentence of death upon herself. wishing to clinch this matter and make it final. put this question: "Do you still believe that your Voices are St. you see." Here. And he wrote in the margin abreast of it: "RESPONSIO MORTIFERA. Then there fell a silence such as falls in a sick-room when the watchers of the dying draw a deep breath and say softly one to another. the others in another mood. Several among the company of judges went from the place troubled and sorrowful." "Yet you denied them on the scaffold?" Then she made direct and clear affirmation that she had never had any intention to deny them. She certainly never knew what it was she had done on the scaffold until she was told of it afterward by these people and by her Voices. It made me shudder. And now she closed this most painful scene with these words. likewise. So did poor Manchon. quite frank. let me die. In the court of the castle we found the Earl of Warwick and fifty English waiting. and it was a violation of the truth. "All is over. Yes. As soon as Cauchon saw them he shouted—laughing—think of a man destroying a friendless poor girl and then having the heart to laugh at it: "Make yourselves comfortable—it's all over with her!" 374 .That answer of hers was quite long. a fatal answer." There it is again. all present knew that it was. Marguerite and St. but after some moments Cauchon. Catherine?" "Yes—and that they come from God. impatient for news. all was over." Fatal answer." The spirit born for sunshine and liberty so longed for release that it would take it in any form. and there was a weary note in them that was pathetic: "I would rather do my penance all at once. I cannot endure captivity any longer. and that if—I noted the if—"if she had made some retractions and revocations on the scaffold it was from fear of the fire. even that. wholly free from concealments or palliations. indeed.

that stirring music the clash of steel and the war-cries and the uproar of the onset. and at that the sadness vanished out of her face. But this dream was to pass also. for I was caught off my guard. and was so moved and so exalted to be so honored by her that I must have shown my feeling in my face and manner. Late at night. and in fancy see our prisoner free. We called back that vague promise of the Voices. Then I would have sent for you. and it was so with Noel and me now. and said the one to the other that the glorious release was to happen at "the last moment"—"that other time was not the last moment. but this is. But I said I would do it myself. and it was so with ours. her sword in her hand. and that he had a good face." A message to me! If he had been noticing I think he would have discovered me—discovered that my indifference concerning the prisoner was a pretense. "A message for me. the King will come. it was as if she was 375 . and come to nothing. but the hopes of the young are quick to rise again. and could already hear. he said: "I am come from the dungeon. and gladly. she not knowing how to write. and with them our veterans.Chapter 23 The Time Is at Hand THE YOUNG can sink into abysses of despondency. when Manchon came in. It is something she wishes done. La Hire will come. Why. your reverence?" "Yes. and she said a letter—would you write a letter to her mother? "And I said you would. She said she had noticed the young man who helps me. and I have a message for you from that poor child. her chains gone. but she said no. and did I think he would do a kindness for her? I said I knew you would. that my labors were heavy. and she thought the young man would not mind the doing of this service for one not able to do it for herself. and behind them all France!" And so we were full of heart again. it will happen now. and asked her what it was. in fancy.

'" "How strange!" "Yes. poor friendless thing. would know it for a command to bear it as became us and her. Then I broke it. as well as to her family. And for a little time she was lost in dreams and thinkings. lighten the burden of our troubles—she that was drinking of the bitter waters. at least no relevancy. but it was not so. 376 . Now this is what she begs you to write to her mother. and they have no meaning. and in thus obeying. I set them down. and try to soften our pain. find assuagement of our grief. I knew it now. It is partly a strange message. and was sad again. the humblest of her servants. when she was a lass of seventeen. and they seemed to bring peace and contentment to her. the doors are closed against all but officials. and said her parents would understand. but that is what she said. Oh. being her soldiers. she could find time to think of us. You will know what it cost me. I knew that Joan's letter was a message to Noel and me. So I went back and told her.going to see a friend. I wrote the letter. but she said her mother would understand. It was like her. and so submit to the will of God. for that this night—and it is the third time in the twelvemonth. she that was walking in the Valley of the Shadow of Death. and that its object was to banish vain hopes from our minds and tell us from her own mouth of the blow that was going to fall upon us. and she sighed. rise upon our sight! There was no hope any more. two years past. for she was always thinking of others. without my telling you. I wrote it with the same wooden stylus which had put upon parchment the first words ever dictated by Joan of Arc—that high summons to the English to vacate France. they were a mere memory." I took the piece of paper. none but officials may speak to her. and found what I knew I should find: And when in exile wand'ring. Yes. thinking they might have some connection with her letter and be useful. we Shall fainting yearn for glimpse of thee. For the pen that had served Joan of Arc could not serve any that would come after her in this earth without abasement. and I caught in her muttering these lines. But I was not permitted. You will 'convey her adoring love to her family and her village friends. as before. it is strange. and say there will be no rescue. not of herself. and is final—she has seen the Vision of the Tree. her heart was sore for us. which she said over two or three times. and her lips moved. floating idly in a tired mind. it had now set down the last ones which she was ever to dictate. but the orders remain as strict as ever. and to me means nothing. I did my best. so that we.

All the afternoon and evening of Tuesday. the news was flying. Martin Ladvenu and another friar were sent to Joan to prepare her for death. who could prove their English sympathies and count upon admission. Of her home. thinking. and the peaceful pastures. and her face was very sad. Then Martin Ladvenu said." 377 . May 29th. still deep in her sad musings and far away. The press grew thicker and thicker in the streets. She sat with her hands in her lap and her head bowed. That meant she would be burnt. for she feared only one kind. Cauchon thanked them. and that she be then delivered to the civil judge. We stood silent awhile. Early the next morning. and by the civil judge to the executioner. and so it might chance that the awful news which we were bringing might come as a surprise to her at last. and the cruelties which had been put upon her? Or was it of death—the death which she had longed for. But she did not know it. Whenever she had been in great danger it had manifested itself. and forty-two responded. the 29th. One might not know what she was thinking of. and the people of the country-side flocking to Rouen to see the tragedy—all. and piercing ever deeper and deeper into that vast heart of stone.The next day. Wednesday. and at last we stood before Joan. It is charitable to believe that the other twenty were ashamed to come. and that one had for her unspeakable terrors. I believed she so feared that one that with her strong will she would shut the thought of it wholly out of her mind. and her forsaken estate. and which was now so close? Or was it of the kind of death she must suffer? I hoped not. the excitement grew higher and higher. and now it was apparent again—manifest in a pathetic dumb sorrow which was visible in many faces. winding this way and that. and hope and believe that God would take pity on her and grant her an easier one. The forty-two pronounced her a relapsed heretic. and Manchon and I went with them—a hard service for me. Then he sent orders that Joan of Arc be conveyed the next morning to the place known as the Old Market. And now a thing was noticeable again which had been noticeable more than once before—that there was pity for Joan in the hearts of many of these people. and condemned her to be delivered over to the secular arm. softly: "Joan. We tramped through the dim corridors. at least. Cauchon summoned his serfs. and the friends she was no more to see? Of her wrongs. but she was still unconscious of us.

Then she said. oh. cruel. and not left here in the hands of my enemies. my poor child. In a moment I was on my knees at her feet. The distant throbbings of the bell pulsed through it. Do you think you can bear it?" "Yes"—very softly. just as I have told it. be consumed today and turned to ashes? Ah. At once she thought only of my danger. and if I had but been there. it is so soon!" There was a long silence. and we stood motionless and listening. and began to writhe and sob.She looked up then." A faint shiver trembled through her wasted body. "Now." That slight shiver passed again. sooner would I that my head were cut off seven times than suffer this woeful death. against the injustice which has been done me. But it was broken at last: "What death is it?" "By fire!" "Oh. Have you a message for me?" "Yes. cruel. The time is at hand. and bent and whispered in my hear: "Up!—do not peril yourself. In the stillness we could hear our breathings. good heart. "It is so soon—ah. still in that low voice: "When will it be?" The muffled notes of a tolling bell floated to our ears out of the distance. and her head drooped again. I knew it. and turn to first one and then another of us. and wound her hands in her hair. so piteously. "Oh. I had the promise of the Church's prison when I submitted. There was a pause. with the tears running down their faces. The next moment she saw 378 . and said: "Speak. "I am come to prepare you for death. None saw it. yet it is true. with a little start and a wan smile. Mine was the last hand she touched with hers in life. even her wounded enemy on the battle-field. I knew it!" She sprang wildly to her feet. to treat me so! And must my body. as hoping she might find help and friendliness there. There—God bless you always!" and I felt the quick clasp of her hand. "Oh. poor thing—she that had never denied these to any creature. history does not know of it or tell of it." There was none there that could endure it. this miserable fate had not befallen me. I appeal to God the Great Judge. Try to bear it. and search our faces beseechingly. They turned away. that has never been defiled. and mourn and grieve and lament.

and was now no more entitled to its privileges than an unbaptized pagan? The brother could not do this. all those multitudes kneeled down and began to pray for her." Now Martin Ladvenu heard her in confession. human and divine. were alike to that man—he respected none of them. smoothly: "Ah. be patient. Her last speech to him had reached his fears. Finally she looked up and saw Pierre Maurice. for they were out of our view. But how grant the communion to one who had been publicly cut off from the Church. but said. to hear—they knew not what. not touched. and the intervals between them were growing longer. but their violence was modifying now. it is by you that I die!" He was not shamed. perhaps. While we had been in the deeps of the prison." she said. "if you had put me in the Church's prison. It was a solemn moment. this would not have happened. but he sent to Cauchon to inquire what he must do. coming to Joan in the prison. And when the lights and the other accompaniments of the Sacrament passed by. and looked less placidly content than before. for he had none. as you promised. the public courts of the castle had been filling up with crowds of the humbler sort of men and women. The Eucharist was brought now to that poor soul that had yearned for it with such unutterable longing all these desolate months." "Alas. who had learned what was going on in Joan's cell. it could not reach his heart. but have returned to your sins.Cauchon coming. out of the distance a moving sound was borne moaning to our 379 . and now and then sobs shook her body. but occasionally she wiped her eyes. and given me right and proper keepers. We knew nothing of this. And there were other great crowds of the like caste gathered in masses outside the castle gates. and when the solemn ceremony of the communion began in Joan's cell. saying: "Bishop. He sent back orders to grant Joan whatever she wished. And for this I summon you to answer before God!" Then Cauchon winced. and she went and stood before him and reproached him. who had come in with the Bishop. Joan stood awhile musing. Joan. and many wept. and had come with softened hearts to do—they knew not what. All laws. where shall I be this night?" "Have you not good hope in God?" "Yes—and by His grace I shall be in Paradise. She grew calmer. You die because you have not kept your promise. then she begged for the sacrament. and he turned him about and went away. and she said to him: "Master Peter.

380 .ears—it was those invisible multitudes chanting the litany for a departing soul. The fear of the fiery death was gone from Joan of Arc now. except for one fleeting instant—then it would pass. and serenity and courage would take its place and abide till the end. to come again no more.

IDOLATER In the cart with her sat the friar Martin Ladvenu and Maetre Jean Massieu." 381 .Chapter 24 Joan the Martyr AT NINE o'clock the Maid of Orleans. RELAPSED. and many of the women weeping. a majestic wave of sound. pray for her! Saints and angels intercede for her! From thy wrath. good Lord!" It is just and true what one of the histories has said: "The poor and the helpless had nothing but their prayers to give Joan of Arc. She looked girlishly fair and sweet and saintly in her long white robe. and when a gush of sunlight flooded her as she emerged from the gloom of the prison and was yet for a moment still framed in the arch of the somber gate. In one respect she was treated worse than a felon. we beseech Thee. all ye saints. but these we may believe were not unavailing. went forth in the grace of her innocence and her youth to lay down her life for the country she loved with such devotion. and was taken up and borne along. she already bore her judgment inscribed in advance upon a miter-shaped cap which she wore: HERETIC. for whereas she was on her way to be sentenced by the civil arm. and blessed martyrs. good Lord. helpless. all the sorrowful way to the place of death. deliver her! O Lord God. the massed multitudes of poor folk murmured "A vision! a vision!" and sank to their knees praying. which accompanied the doomed. solacing and blessing her. She sat in the cart that is used only for felons. and for the King that had abandoned her. archangels. save her! Have mercy on her. praying crowd. and the moving invocation for the dying arose again. APOSTATE. Deliverer of France. "Christ have pity! Saint Margaret have pity! Pray for her. There are few more pathetic events recorded in history than this weeping. holding their lighted candles and kneeling on the pavement beneath the prison walls of the old fortress.

But there were some that did not kneel. to signify the Church's abandonment of her. through her wickedness. these were the English soldiers. and her death therefore necessary. By and by a frantic man in priest's garb came wailing and lamenting. and walled it in all the way. was a menace and a peril to the Church's purity and holiness. wherein he explained that when a branch of the vine—which is the Church—becomes diseased and corrupt. and behind these living walls knelt the multitudes. by order of Cauchon. like a field starred with golden flowers. In the square of the Old Market stood the two platforms and the stake that had stood before in the churchyard of St. an ecclesiastic named Nicholas Midi preached a sermon. the Church can no longer protect you. He hid himself from the world somewhere. on each side of Joan's road. Go in peace!" Joan had been placed wholly apart and conspicuous. When the preparations had been finished. They stood elbow to elbow. The soldiers would have killed him. and tore through the crowd and the barriers of soldiers and flung himself on his knees by Joan's cart and put up his hands in supplication. nothing but pity for all that suffer. thick-sown with the faint yellow candle-flames. forgive!" It was Loyseleur! And Joan forgave him. And she had no word of reproach for this poor wretch who had wrought day and night with deceits and treacheries and hypocrisies to betray her to her death. it must be cut away or it will corrupt and destroy the whole vine. the windows and roofs of the blocks of buildings surrounding it were black with them. nothing but compassion. When he was come to the end of his discourse he turned toward her and paused a moment. 382 . the other by great dignitaries. forgave him out of a heart that knew nothing but forgiveness. crying out: "O forgive. the one by Joan and her judges. to endure his remorse as he might. let their offense be what it might. then he said: "Joan. and she sat there in her loneliness. The platforms were occupied as before. Ouen. and a waiting stillness followed which was solemn and impressive. He made it appear that Joan. What became of him is not known.And it was so all the way: thousands upon thousands massed upon their knees and stretching far down the distances. The square was packed with people. all noise and movement gradually ceased. the principal being Cauchon and the English Cardinal—Winchester. but the Earl of Warwick saved his life. And now.

moved to it by the good heart that was in him. and that his enemies had undermined his cause with evil reports and false charges. "Do your duty. None was able to furnish one. and she kissed it and put it in her bosom. even the English Cardinal's—that man with a political heart of stone but a human heart of flesh. she never thought of his desertion of her. And so. For whom? Herself? Oh. and he not by to defend himself. she begged in humble and touching words that all here present would pray for her and would pardon her. and to the executioner. but being wholly clear and free of all responsibility for them. Then. she never remembered that it was because he was an ingrate that she was here to die a miserable death. The secular judge who should have delivered judgment and pronounced sentence was himself so disturbed that he forgot his duty." Joan asked for a cross. Cauchon addressed her now. and not in any way to blame for any acts of hers. With a final word he delivered her over to the secular arm for judgment and sentence. that she was his loyal and loving subject. knelt and began to pray. and repent of them. He only said—to the guards: "Take her". neither advising them nor urging them. Her voice rose sweet and clear. both her enemies and such as might look friendly upon her and feel pity for her in their hearts. He had been advised to read the form of her abjuration to her. she forgot her own troubles to implore all in her hearing to be just to him. But an English soldier broke a stick in two and crossed the pieces and tied them together. fearing that she would proclaim the truth—that she had never knowingly abjured—and so bring shame upon him and eternal infamy. and this cross he gave her. and think of her salvation. and Joan went to her death unsentenced—thus completing with an illegality what had begun illegally and had so continued to the end. even the judges showed it. in the very presence of death. Then Isambard de la 383 . and had brought it with him. Then he solemnly pronounced her excommunicate and cut off from the body of the Church. yes. weeping. to believe that he was good and noble and sincere. He contented himself with admonishing her to keep in mind her wickednesses. closing. but he changed his mind. There was hardly one heart there that was not touched—even the English.waiting in patience and resignation for the end. and there was many a lip that trembled and many an eye that was blurred with tears. She never thought of his treacheries to her. Joan. she remembered only that he was her King. and penetrated all hearts with its passionate pathos. no—for the King of France.

and they came no more to torture her. The executioner ascended to her side and wound chains around her slender body. but it is as I tell you: the latest image recorded by my eyes in that desolating hour was Joan of Arc with the grace of her comely youth still unmarred. Tragic sounds there were that pierced my ears and wounded my heart as I sat there. she climbed up the cruel steps to the face of the stake. And so. and so fastened her to the stake. in that solemn hour when all transgressors repent and confess. has remained with me all my days. Rouen. Then she was satisfied. turning her grieving eyes about her. and this one also she kissed. She had given him her cross and begged him to raise it toward her face and let her eyes rest in hope and consolation upon it till she was entered into the peace of God. She made him go out from the danger of the fire. and the world gazing up at her breathless. Rouen. No such thought was in her blameless mind. and with her cross to her lips. must I die here.Pierre went to the church near by and brought her a consecrated one. where rose the towers and spires of that fair city. with the friar Isambard at her side. Rouen. It was the friar Isambard. they erred. and said: 384 . and of woes that might befall them. Rouen. And so. and pressed it to her bosom with rapture. but I could bear no more. Then he descended to finish his dreadful office. If any thought that now. and had been so loved and so dear. I continued in my place. All these things I saw. she said: "Oh. I have great fear that you will suffer for my death. albeit dimly and blurred with tears. and for one moment terror seized her and she cried out. and immediately distress for a fellow-creature who was in danger took possession of her. and must you be my tomb? Ah. and then kissed it again and again. Now I will go on. and there she remained alone—she that had had so many friends in the days when she was free. but what I shall deliver to you now I got by others' eyes and others' mouths. She heard the flames crackling below her. weeping. Then she was helped up to the top of the pile of wood that was built around the lower third of the stake and stood upon it with her back against the stake. but of others. covering it with tears and pouring out her gratitude to God and the saints." A whiff of smoke swept upward past her face. and that image. She was not thinking of herself and her troubles. "Water! Give me holy water!" but the next moment her fears were gone. untouched by time or decay. she would revoke her revocation and say her great deeds had been evil deeds and Satan and his fiends their source.

endure to let her die in peace. to tell of a rich world made empty and poor! 385 . and none saw that face any more nor that form. that man without shame. she was gone from us: JOAN OF ARC! What little words they are. but went toward her. all black with crimes and sins as he was. and cried out: "I am come. At last a mercifully swift tide of flame burst upward." "I die through you." she said. shot through with red flashes of flame. Then the pitchy smoke. and these were the last words she spoke to any upon earth. and the voice was still." Not even yet could Cauchon."Now keep it always in my sight until the end. and when by moments the wind shredded somewhat of the smoke aside. and from the heart of this darkness her voice rose strong and eloquent in prayer. rolled up in a thick volume and hid her from sight. Yes. to exhort you for the last time to repent and seek the pardon of God. there were veiled glimpses of an upturned face and moving lips. Joan.

no longer the light-hearted youths who marched with us from Vaucouleurs. because Joan was not there to march into the captured capital with us. and. All the survivors of the personal staff were faithful to her memory and fought for the King to the end. I did not see him in all that time. we put on our harness and returned to the field and fought for the King all through the wars and skirmishes until France was freed of the English. and upon this she lived out her days.Conclusion JOAN'S BROTHER Jacques died in Domremy during the Great Trial at Rouen. yes. but presently when the Constable Richemont superseded La Tremouille as the King's chief adviser and began the completion of Joan's great work. for we were far apart. but when Paris fell we happened to be together. for that was all he enjoyed in life. It was in the last great battle of the war. who came to get sight of the venerable dame. The mother was granted a pension by the city of Orleans. Mainly we were well scattered. He was eighty-five years old. and I was by his side when death claimed him. her desire was law for us. Paris was crowded with people. La Hire survived the martyrdom thirteen years. With her were Jean and Pierre. with his flowing white mane and his tameless spirit. but war-torn veterans with hair beginning to show frost. dead or alive. and it was a touching spectacle when she moved through these reverent wet-eyed multitudes on her way to the grand honors awaiting her at the cathedral. and his indestructible energy as well. In that battle fell also Joan's sturdy old enemy Talbot. for he fought as knightly and vigorous a fight that day as the best man there. and always fighting. Twenty-four years after her illustrious child's death she traveled all the way to Paris in the winter-time and was present at the opening of the discussion in the Cathedral of Notre Dame which was the first step in the Rehabilitation. A fine old lion he was. from all about France. 386 . It was a great day and a joyous. but one was always hearing of him. It was what Joan would have desired of us. but it was a sad one at the same time. After the martyrdom Noel and I went back to Domremy. This was according to the prophecy which Joan made that day in the pastures the time that she said the rest of us would go to the great wars. and he died. When her poor old father heard of the martyrdom it broke his heart. and had spent his whole life in battle. Noel and I remained always together. which were many. of course.

Now as to the Rehabilitation. That is how Charles VII. now that the English had been finally expelled from the country. but their family name and blood bring them honors which no other nobles receive or may hope for. The Commission sat at Paris. and D'Aulon. and the Pope appointed a great commission of churchmen to examine into the facts of Joan's life and award judgment. and continued its work during several months. and the King did it. Their descendants are of the nobility.The Bastard of Orleans and D'Alencon and D'Aulon lived to see France free. no nation could afford to allow such a king to remain on the throne. at Rouen. During the next twenty-three years he remained indifferent to her memory. indifferent to the fact that France was ashamed. and longed to have the Deliverer's fair fame restored. For whatsoever had touch with Joan of Arc. at Orleans. he had a better reason—a better one for his sort of man. and 387 . Members of Joan's family married. indifferent to the fact that her good name was under a damning blot put there by the priest because of the deeds which she had done in saving him and his scepter. If I should live a thousand years it would still fail. He appealed to the Pope. It was not because they are noble. and to testify with Jean and Pierre d'Arc and Pasquerel and me at the Rehabilitation. It was high time to stir now. and the Duke d'Alencon. You have seen how everybody along the way uncovered when those children came yesterday to pay their duty to me. She said I would live until those wars were forgotten—a prophecy which failed. Joan crowned the King at Rheims. and at several other places. This better reason was that. It examined the records of Joan's trials. they were beginning to call attention to the fact that this King had gotten his crown by the hands of a person proven by the priests to have been in league with Satan and burned for it by them as a sorceress—therefore. these many years. of what value or authority was such a Kingship as that? Of no value at all. that thing is immortal. at Domremy. I alone am left of those who fought at the side of Joan of Arc in the great wars. and they have left descendants. Then he suddenly changed and was anxious to have justice for poor Joan himself. But they are all at rest now. came to be smitten with anxiety to have justice done the memory of his benefactress. it is because they are grandchildren of the brothers of Joan of Arc. Why? Had he become grateful at last? Had remorse attacked his hard heart? No. For reward he allowed her to be hunted to her death without making one effort to save her. it examined the Bastard of Orleans. and Pasquerel. Indifferent all that time.

And out of this exhaustive examination Joan's character and history came spotless and perfect. and mischief. and everything that was pure and fine and noble and lovely. Peace. and also among them certain other faces that filled me with bitterness—those of Beaupere and Courcelles and a number of their fellow-fiends. Orleans. and palpable to the touch and visible to the eye. that sublime personality. Poetry. but a slender girl in her first young bloom. the abjuration. concreted. She was the Genius of Patriotism—she was Patriotism embodied. I saw Haumette and Little Mengette—edging along toward fifty now.Courcelles. In it no trace of these motives can be found. and in her hand the sword that severed her country's bonds—shall not this. that wonderful child. He made her live again before me. With Joan of Arc love of country was more than a sentiment—it was a passion. and Manchon. among them some wellbeloved faces—those of our generals and that of Catherine Boucher (married. and saw again many faces which I have not seen for a quarter of a century. and how full of pluck and fire and impetuosity. self-interest. and wrung my heart. and Isambard de la Pierre. and mothers of many children. and compassion. Vaucouleurs. Mercy. and me. and the parents of the Paladin and the Sunflower. and to hear the Bastard indorse these praises with his eloquent tongue and then go on and tell how sweet and good Joan was. Love. and the martyrdom. that spirit which in one regard has had no peer and will have none—this: its purity from all alloy of self-seeking. and this verdict was placed upon record. to remain forever. I was present upon most of these occasions. with the martyr's crown upon her head. and many others whose names I have made familiar to you. I saw Noel's father. made flesh. stand for PATRIOTISM through all the ages until time shall end? 388 . also they examined more than a hundred witnesses whose names are less familiar to you—the friends of Joan in Domremy. search as you may. Music—these may be symbolized as any shall prefer: by figures of either sex and of any age. and this cannot be said of any other person whose name appears in profane history. It was beautiful to hear the Duke d'Alencon praise Joan's splendid capacities as a general. and tenderness. Charity. and a number of judges and other people who had assisted at the Rouen trials. and no other. I have finished my story of Joan of Arc. and other places. alas!). and mirthfulness. War. personal ambition. Fortitude.

The book begins with a brief history of the river. He describes the competition from railroads. In this memoir. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. Roughing It illustrates many of Twain's early adventures. (Source: Wikipedia) Mark Twain Tom Sawyer. and A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. large cities. and in England. and his observations on greed. the new. gullibility. as the 'cub' of an experienced pilot. on a stagecoach journey west. He describes. the science of navigating the ever-changing Mississippi River. including a visit to Salt Lake City. and his beginnings as a writer. He also tells some stories that are most likely tall tales. Detective 389 . many years later. Louis to New Orleans. In the second half. It continues with anecdotes of Twain's training as a steamboat pilot. the book describes Twain's return. gold and silver prospecting. readers can see examples of Twain's rough-hewn humor. tragedy. (Source: Wikipedia) Mark Twain Life On The Mississippi Life on the Mississippi is a memoir by Mark Twain detailing his days as a steamboat pilot on the Mississippi River before and after the American Civil War. which would become a staple of his writing in his later books. and bad architecture. Simultaneously published in 1883 in the U. it is said to be the first book composed on a typewriter. with great affection.Loved this book ? Similar users also downloaded Mark Twain Roughing It Roughing It follows the travels of young Mark Twain through the Wild West during the years 1861–1867. real-estate speculation. who had been appointed Secretary of the Nevada Territory.S. Twain consulted his brother's diary to refresh his memory and borrowed heavily from his active imagination for many stories in the novel. such as Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. to travel on a steamboat from St. he joined his brother Orion Clemens. After a brief stint as a Confederate cavalry militiaman.

Like Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer. Mark Twain The Jumping Frog Mark Twain's "The Jumping Frog : In English.Tom Sawyer. and fleas to see some of the world's greatest wonders. also known as "The Celebrated Jumping 390 . for the destruction of human life. robbers. Mark Twain The War Prayer Written by Mark Twain during the Philippine-American War in the first decade of the twentieth century. including the Pyramids and the Sphinx. the story is told using the first-person narrative voice of Huck Finn.000 Bequest and other short stories Mark Twain A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court This is the tale of a 19th-century citizen of Hartford.. Detective is an 1896 novel by Mark Twain. Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1884). a stranger enters and addresses the gathering. the story is told using the first-person narrative voice of Huck Finn. He tells the patriotic crowd that their prayers for victory are double-edged-by praying for victory they are also praying for the destruction of the enemy. then in French. then clawed back into the civilized language once more by patient unremunerated toil" (1865). Mark Twain The $30. Mark Twain Tom Sawyer Abroad Tom Sawyer Abroad is a novel by Mark Twain published in 1894. It is a sequel to The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (1876). Huck. Connecticut who awakens to find himself inexplicably transported back in time to early medieval England at the time of the legendary King Arthur in AD 528. During the service. Tom. It features Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn in a parody of Jules Verne-esque adventure stories.. and Jim set sail to Africa in a futuristic hot air balloon. Tom Sawyer attempts to solve a mysterious murder in this burlesque of the immensely popular detective novels of the time. The War Prayer tells of a patriotic church service held to send the town's young men off to war. Like the two preceding novels. where they survive encounters with lions. In the story. Detective. and Tom Sawyer Abroad (1894).

by Mark Twain. but even if you skip the french version it's truly brilliant. "The Notorious Jumping Frog of Calaveras County" and "Jim Smiley and His Jumping Frog. By satirizing Southern antebellum society that was already a quarter-century in the past by the time of publication. It is commonly used and accounted as one of the first Great American Novels. word for word (this is where things degenerate).Frog of Calaveras County". The book is noted for its colorful description of people and places along the Mississippi River. A masterpiece of babelfishien nonsense dating from well before babelfish was even a gleam in the binary code of its creator (1903). is a popular 1876 novel about a young boy growing up in the antebellum South on the Mississippi River in the fictional town of St. I being self-educated. Mark Twain The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (often shortened to Huck Finn) is a novel written by American humorist Mark Twain. best friend of Tom Sawyer and hero of three other Mark Twain books. As good old Samuel Clemens himself put it in his foreword "I cannot speak the French language. though not fast. down the Mississippi River on their raft may be one of the most enduring images of escape and freedom in all of American literature. Best appreciated if you can read both French and English. a french translation which was published in la Revue des Deux Mondes and which Twain finds to be a travesty of the original text. If you have ever translated random text using babelfish just because it's funny. 391 . or vernacular." Mark Twain The Adventures of Tom Sawyer The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. The drifting journey of Huck and his friend Jim. It is also one of the first major American novels written using Local Color Regionalism. and Twain's retranslation of the french back into english. don't miss this book. a runaway slave. Missouri. the book is an often scathing look at entrenched attitudes. particularly racism. but I can translate very well." Containing the original story (in english). Petersburg. told in the first person by the eponymous Huckleberry "Huck" Finn. Food for the mind 392 .

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