It may yet be remembered by some how early the snow came that year,
to the eastern portion of France at least. I think scarce a week
had passed since our journey to Domremy, before a wild gale from
the northeast brought heavy snow, which lay white upon the ground
for many long weeks, and grew deeper and deeper as more fell, till
the wolves ravaged right up to the very walls of Vaucouleurs, and
some of the country villages were quite cut off from intercourse
with the world.
Thus it came about that I was shut up in Vaucouleurs with my good
comrade and friend Bertrand, in the Castle of which Robert de
Baudricourt was governor, and for awhile little news reached us
from the outside world, though such news as did penetrate to our
solitude was all of disaster for the arms of France.
We never spoke to De Baudricourt of our expedition to Domremy, nor
told him that we had seen the Maid again. Yet methinks not a day
passed without our thinking of her, recalling something of that
wonderful look we had seen upon her face, and asking in our hearts
whether indeed she were truly visited by heavenly visions sent by
God, and whether she indeed heard voices which could reach no ears
but hers.
I observed that Bertrand was more regular in attendance at the
services of the Church, and especially at Mass, than was usual with
young knights in those days, and for my part, I felt a stronger
desire after such spiritual aids than I ever remember to have done
in my life before. It became a regular thing with us to attend the
early Mass in the little chapel of the Castle; and, instead of
growing lax (as I had done before many times in my roving life), as
to attending confession and receiving the Holy Sacrament, I now
began to feel the need for both, as though I were preparing me for
some great and solemn undertaking. I cannot well express in words
the feeling which possessed me--ay, and Bertrand too--for we began
to speak of the matter one with another--but it seemed to us both
as though a high and holy task lay before us, for which we must
needs prepare ourselves with fasting and prayer; I wondered if,
perhaps, it was thus that knights and men in days of old felt when
they had taken the Red Cross, and had pledged themselves to some
Crusade in the East.
Well, thus matters went on, quietly enough outwardly, till the
Feast of the Nativity had come and gone, and with that feast came a
wonderful change in the weather. The frost yielded, the south wind
blew soft, the snow melted away one scarce knew how, and a breath
of spring seemed already in the air, though we did not dare to hope
that winter was gone for good and all.
It was just when the year had turned that we heard a rumour in the
town, and it was in this wise that it reached our ears. De
Baudricourt had been out with his dogs, chasing away the wolves
back into their forest lairs. He had left us some business to
attend to for him within the Castle, else should we doubtless have
been of the party. But he was the most sagacious huntsman of the
district, and a rare day's sport they did have, killing more than a
score of wolves, to the great joy of the townsfolk and of the
country people without the walls. It was dark ere he got home, and
he came in covered with mud from head to foot; the dogs, too, were
so plastered over, that they had to be given to the servants to
clean ere they could take their wonted places beside the fire; and
some of the poor beasts had ugly wounds which needed to be washed
and dressed.
But what struck us most was that De Baudricourt, albeit so
successful in his hunt, seemed little pleased with his day's work.
His face was dark, as though a thunder cloud lay athwart it, and he
gave but curt answers to our questions, as he stood steaming before
the fire and quaffing a great tankard of spiced wine which was
brought to him. Then he betook himself to his own chamber to get
him dry garments, and when he came down supper was already served.
He sat him down at the head of the table, still silent and morose;
and though he fell with right good will upon the viands, he scarce
opened his lips the while, and we in our turn grew silent, for we
feared that he had heard the news of some disaster to the French
arms, which he was brooding over in silent gloom.
But when the retainers and men-at-arms had disappeared, and we had
gathered round the fire at the far end of the hall, as was our
wont, then he suddenly began to speak.
"Went ye into the town today?" he suddenly asked of us.
We answered him, Nay, that we had been occupied all day within the
Castle over the services there he had left us to perform.
"And have you heard nought of the commotion going on there?"
"We have heard nought. Pray what hath befallen, good sir? Is it
some disaster? Hath Orleans fallen into the hands of the English?"
For that was the great fear possessing all loyal minds at this
period.
"Nay, it is nought so bad as that," answered De Baudricourt, "and
yet it is bad enough, I trow. That mad girl from Domremy is now in
the town, telling all men that Robert de Baudricourt hath been
appointed of God to send her to the Dauphin at Chinon, and that she
must needs start thither soon, to do the work appointed her of
heaven.
"Dents de Dieu!--the folly of it is enough to raise the hair on
one's head! Send a little paysanne to the King with a wild story
like hers! 'Tis enough to make the name of De Baudricourt the
laughingstock of the whole country!"
I felt a great throb at heart when I heard these words. Then the
Maid had not forgot! This time of waiting had not bred either
indifference or doubt. The time appointed was drawing near, and she
had come to Vaucouleurs once more, to do that which was required of
her!
O, was it not wonderful? Must not it be of heaven, this thing? And
should we seek to put the message aside as a thing of nought?
Bertrand was already speaking eagerly with his kinsman; but it
seemed as though his words did only serve to irritate the Governor
the more. In my heart I was sure that had he been certain the Maid
was an impostor, he would have been in no wise troubled or
disturbed, but would have contented himself by sharply ordering her
to leave the town and return home and trouble him no more. It was
because he was torn by doubts as to her mission that he was thus
perturbed in spirit. He dared not treat her in this summary
fashion, lest haply he should be found to be fighting against God;
and yet he found it hard to believe that any deliverance for
hapless France could come through the hands of a simple, unlettered
peasant girl; and he shrank with a strong man's dislike from making
himself in any sort an object of ridicule, or of seeming to give
credence to a wild tale of visions and voices, such as the world
would laugh to scorn. So he was filled with doubt and perplexity,
and this betrayed itself in gloomy looks and in harsh speech.
"Tush, boy! You are but an idle dreamer. I saw before that you were
fooled by a pretty face and a silvery voice. Go to!--your words are
but phantasy! Who believes in miracles now?"
"If we believe in the power of the good God, shall we not also
believe that He can work even miracles at His holy will?"
"Poof--miracles!--the dreams of a vain and silly girl!" scoffed De
Baudricourt, "I am sick of her name already!"
Then he suddenly turned upon me and spoke.
"Jean de Metz, you are a knight of parts. You have sense and
discretion above your years, and are no featherhead like Bertrand
here. Will you undertake a mission from me to this maiden? Ask of
her the story of her pretended mission. Seek to discover from her
whether she be speaking truth, or whether she be seeking to
deceive. Catch her in her speech if it may be. See whether the tale
she tells hang together, and then come and report to me. If she be
a mad woman, why should I be troubled with her? She cannot go to
the Dauphin yet, come what may. The melting snows have laid the
valleys under water, the roads are impassable; horses would stick
fast in the mire, and we are not at the end of winter yet. She must
needs wait awhile, whatever her message may be, but I would have
you get speech of her, and straightly question her from me. Then if
it seem well, I can see her again; but if you be willing, you shall
do so first."
I was more than willing. I was rejoiced to have this occasion for
getting speech with the Maid. I spoke no word of having had sight
of her already, but fell in with De Baudricourt's wish that I
should go to her as if a mere passing stranger, and only afterwards
reveal myself as his emissary. I slept but little all that night,
making plans as to all that I should speak when I saw her on the
morrow, and, rising early, I betook myself to Mass, not to the
private chapel of the Castle, but to one of the churches in the
town, though I could not have said why it was that I was moved to
do this.
Yet as I knelt in my place I knew, for there amongst the
worshippers, her face upraised and full of holy joy, her eyes
alight with the depth of her devotion, her hands clasped in an
ecstasy of prayer, was the Maid herself; and I found it hard to
turn my eyes from her wonderful face, to think upon the office as
it was recited by the priest.
I did not seek speech of her then, for she tarried long in the
church over her prayers. I felt at last like one espying on
another, and so I came away. But after breakfast, as the sun shone
forth and began to light up the narrow streets of the little town,
I sallied forth again alone, and asked of the first citizen I met
where could be found the dwelling place of one Jeanne d'Arc, from
Domremy, who was paying a visit to the town.
I had scarce need to say so much as this. It seemed that all the
people in the town had heard of the arrival of the Maid. I know not
whether they believed in her mission, or whether they scoffed at
it; but at least it was the talk of the place how she had come
before, and fearlessly faced the Governor and his council, and had
made her great demand from him, and how she had come once again,
now that the year was born and Lent approaching, in the which she
had said she must seek and find the Dauphin. Thus the man was able
at once to give me the information I asked, and told me that the
girl was lodging with Henri Leroyer the saddler, and Catherine his
wife, naming the street where they dwelt, but adding that I should
have no trouble in finding the house, for the people flocked to it
to get a sight of the Maid, and to ask her questions concerning her
mission hither, and what she thought she was about to accomplish.
And truly I did find that this honest citizen had spoken the truth,
for as I turned into the narrow street where Leroyer lived, I saw
quite a concourse of people gathered about the house, and though
they made way for me to approach, knowing that I was from the
Castle, I saw that they were very eager to get sight or speech of
the Maid, who was standing at the open door of the shop, and
speaking in an earnest fashion to those nearest her.
I made as though I were a passing stranger, who had just heard
somewhat of her matter from the bystanders, and I addressed her in
friendly fashion, rather as one who laughs.
"What are you doing here, ma mie? And what is this I hear? Is it
not written in the book of fate that the King or Dauphin of France
must be overcome of England's King, and that we must all become
English, or else be driven into the sea, or banished from the
realm?"
Then for the first time her wonderful eyes fastened themselves on
my face, and I felt as though my very soul were being read.
"Nay, sire," she answered, and there was something so flute-like
and penetrating in her tones that they seemed to sink into my very
soul, "but the Lord of Heaven Himself is about to fight for France,
and He has sent me to the Governor here, who will direct me to the
Dauphin, who knows nothing of me as yet. But I am to bring him
help, and that by Mid-Lent. So I pray you, gentle knight, go tell
Robert de Baudricourt that he must needs bestir himself in this
business, for my voices tell me that the hour is at hand when, come
what may, I must to Chinon, even though I wear my legs to the knees
in going thither."
"Why should I tell this to the Seigneur de Baudricourt?" I asked,
marvelling at her words and the fashion of her speech.
"Because he has sent you to me," she answered, her eyes still on my
face, "and I thank him for having chosen so gracious a messenger;
for you have a good heart, and you are no mocker of the things my
Lord has revealed to me; and you will be one of those to do His
will, and to bring me safely to the Dauphin."
Half confounded by her words I asked:
"Who is your Lord?"
"It is God," she answered, and bent her head in lowly reverence.
And then I did a strange thing; but it seemed to be forced upon me
from above by a power which I could not withstand. I fell suddenly
to my knees before her, and put up my clasped hands, as we do when
we pay homage for our lands and honours to our liege lord. And, I
speak truth, and nought else, the Maid put her hands over mine just
as our lord or sovereign should do, and though I dare swear she had
never heard my name before, she said:
"Jean de Novelpont de Metz, my Lord receives you as His faithful
knight and servant. He will be with us now and to the end."
And the people all uncovered and stood bareheaded round us, whilst
I felt as though I had received a mandate from Heaven.
Then I went into the house with Jeanne, and asked her of herself,
and of her visions and voices. She told me of them with the gentle
frankness of a child, but with a reverence and humility that was
beautiful to see, and which was in strange contrast to some of the
things she spoke, wherein she told how that she herself was to be
used of Heaven for the salvation of France.
I cannot give her words as she spoke them, sitting there in the
window, the light upon her face, her eyes fixed more often upon the
sunny sky than upon her interlocutor, though now and again she
swept me with one of her wonderful glances. She told me how from a
child she had heard voices, which she knew to be from above,
speaking to her, bidding her to be good, to go to the church, to
attend to her simple duties at home. But as she grew older there
came a change. She remembered the day when first she saw a
wonderful white light hovering above her; and this light came
again, and yet again; and the third time she saw in it the figure
of an angel--more than that--of the Archangel Michael himself--the
warrior of Heaven; and from him she first received the message that
she was to be used for the deliverance of her people.
She was long in understanding what this meant. St. Michael told her
she should receive other angelic visitors, and often after this St.
Catherine and St. Margaret appeared to her, and told her what was
required of her, and what she must do. At first she was greatly
affrighted, and wept, and besought them to find some other for the
task, since she was but a humble country maid, and knew nothing of
the art of warfare, and shuddered at the sight of blood. But they
told her to be brave, to trust in the Lord, to think only of Him
and of His holy will towards her. And so, by degrees, she lost all
her fears, knowing that it was not of herself she would do this
thing, and that her angels would be with her, her saints would
watch over her, and her voices direct her in all that she should
speak or do.
"And now," she added, clasping her hands, and looking full into my
face, "now do they tell me that the time is at hand. Since last
Ascensiontide they have bid me wait in quietness for the appointed
hour; but of late my voices have spoken words which may not be set
aside. I must be sent to the Dauphin. Orleans must be saved from
the hosts of the English which encompass it. I am appointed for
this task, and I shall accomplish it by the grace of my Lord and
His holy saints. Then the crown must be set upon the head of the
Dauphin, and he must be anointed as the king. After that my task
will be done; but not till then. And now I must needs set forth
upon the appointed way. To the Dauphin I must go, to speak to him
of things I may tell to none other; and the Sieur Robert de
Baudricourt is appointed of Heaven to send me to Chinon. Wherefore,
I pray you, gentle knight, bid him no longer delay; for I am
straitened in spirit till I may be about my Lord's business, and He
would not have me tarry longer."
I talked with her long and earnestly. Not that I doubted her. I
could not do so. Although no voices came to me, yet my heart was
penetrated by a conviction so deep and poignant that to doubt would
have been impossible. France had been sold and betrayed by one bad
woman; but here was the Maid who should arise to save! I knew it in
my heart; yet I still spoke on and asked questions, for I must
needs satisfy De Baudricourt, I must needs be able to answer all
that he would certainly ask.
"How old are you, fair maiden?" I asked, as at length I rose to
depart, and she stood, tall and slim, before me, straight as a
young poplar, graceful, despite her coarse raiment, her feet and
hands well fashioned, her limbs shapely and supple.
"I was seventeen last week," she answered simply, "the fifth of
January is my jour de fete."
"And your parents, what think they of this? What said they when you
bid them farewell for such an errand?"
The tears gathered slowly in her beautiful eyes; but they did not
fall. She answered in a low voice:
"In sooth they know not for what I did leave them. They believed I
went but to visit a sick friend. I did not dare to tell them all,
lest my father should hold me back: He is very slow to believe my
mission; he chides me bitterly if ever word be spoken anent it. Is
it not always so when the Lord uses one of His children? Even our
Lord's brethren and sisters believed not on Him. How can the
servant be greater than his Lord?"
"You fear not, then, to disobey your parents?"
I had need to put this question; for it was one that De Baudricourt
had insisted upon; for he knew something of Jacques d'Arc's
opposition to his daughter's proposed campaign.
"I must obey my Lord even above my earthly parents," was her
steadfast reply; "His word must stand the first. He knows all, and
He will pardon. He knows that I love my father and my mother, and
that if I only pleased myself I should never leave their side."
Then suddenly as she spoke a strange look of awe fell upon her; I
think she had forgotten my presence, for when she spoke, her words
were so low that I could scarce hear them.
"I go to my death!" she whispered, the colour ebbing from her face,
"but I am in the hands of my Lord; His will alone can be done."
I went out from her presence with bent head. What did those last
words signify--when hitherto all she had spoken was of deliverance,
of victory? She spoke them without knowing it. Of that I was
assured; and therefore I vowed to keep them locked in my heart. But
I knew that I should never forget them.
I found Robert de Baudricourt awaiting my coming in the great hall,
pacing restlessly to and fro. Bertrand was with him, and I saw by
the tense expression upon his face that he was eager for my report.
I gave him one quick glance upon entering, which I trow he read and
understood; but to De Baudricourt I spoke with caution and with
measured words, for he was a man whose scorn and ridicule were
easily aroused, and I knew that Bertrand had fallen into a kind of
contempt with him, in that he had so quickly believed in the
mission of the Maid.
"Well, and what make you of the girl? Is she witch, or mad, or
possessed by some spirit of vainglory and ambition? What has she
said to you, and what think you of her?"
"In all truth, my lord, I believe her to be honest; and more than
this, I believe her to be directed of God. Strange as it may seem,
yet such things have been before, and who are we to say that God's
arm is shortened, or that He is not the same as in the days of old?
I have closely questioned the Maid as to her visions and voices,
and I cannot believe them delusions of the senses. You may ask, are
they of the Devil? Then would I say, if there be doubt, let the
Abbe Perigord approach her with holy water, with exorcisms, or with
such sacred words and signs as devils must needs flee before. Then
if it be established that the thing is not of the Evil One, we may
the better regard it as from the Lord of whom she speaks. At least,
if she can stand this test, I would do this much for her--give her
a small escort to Chinon, with a letter to the Dauphin. After that
your responsibility will cease. The matter will be in the hands of
the King and his advisers."
"Ay, after I have made myself the laughingstock of the realm!"
burst out De Baudricourt grimly; yet after he had questioned me
again, and yet again, and had even held one interview himself with
the Maid, who came of her own accord to the Castle to ask for him
one day, he seemed to come to some decision, after much thought and
wavering.
Bringing out one of his rattling oaths, he cried:
"Then if she can bear the touch of holy water, and the sign of book
and taper and bell--and I know not what beside--then shall she be
sent to the King at Chinon, and I, Robert de Baudricourt, will send
her--come what may of the mission!"