THE IMPOSSIBLE HAPPENS
"_To pray, we do not say with the lips, but to pray with
the whole sincerity of the heart, is to win an inexhaustible
source of moral strength. This we say simply from the
point of view of a man of science who only concerns himself
with the effects of a fact, and only considers truths
of observation and experience._"
M. SIMEON LUCE. "_Jeanne d'Arc a Domremy._"
The next day, as Jeanne sat with the two knights discussing the audience
of the evening before, here came the Sire de Gaucourt, former commander
of Orleans. "Pucelle," he said, bowing low before the Maid, "I come to
you by order of the King, whose desire it is that you should leave this
mean place and come to dwell in the Tower of Coudray, which is more
proper lodging for you, and nearer to him. The friends who are with you
shall accompany you, if such be your desire."
"It is in truth my desire," spoke the maiden quickly with an affectionate
glance at Poulengy and Metz. "True and faithful friends have they proven
themselves. Without their aid I could not have come to the King. They
believed in me even before Sire Robert did. And they shall go with me to
Orleans, if they wish."
"We do wish," came from the knights simultaneously. "To Orleans, or to
any place that promises fighting for France."
"Would that we were now bound for Orleans," sighed Jeanne as the four set
forth for the castle.
Up the steep approach to the castle they wended their way once more. And
now, being daylight, it was seen that the long mass of embattled walls,
of keeps, towers, turrets, curtains, ramparts, and watch-towers were
three castles separated one from the other by dyke, barrier, postern, and
portcullis. Arriving on the ridge of hill Sire de Gaucourt led them past
the long line of machicolated battlements of the Middle Chateau where the
King dwelt, and across the bridge of the inner moat. A curtain of stone
connected a high tower on the moat bank with another battlemented tower
built into the buttressed cliff wall. There was an archway in the curtain
at the end of the bridge, through which they passed to the Tower of
Coudray.
Ascending a stairway they paused at its top, for here the lieutenant of
the tower, Guillaume Bellier, the King's Major Domo, waited to greet
them.
"You are to lodge with my own family, Pucelle," he said, making Jeanne a
deep obeisance. "My wife comes now to bear you to your chamber for rest
and refreshment."
As he spoke a pleasant faced woman came forward from an adjoining room,
and greeted the maiden warmly. She showed plainly her surprise at
Jeanne's attire, but seemed charmed by her youth and beauty. Sire
Bertrand gave a sigh of satisfaction as he saw the maiden depart in the
lady's company, and remarked to De Metz in a low tone:
"Glad am I to see the Maid in such good hands as those of Madame Bellier.
She is a devout woman, and the two will take much pleasure in each
other's company. It hath gone to my heart to see such a mere girl without
any of her own sex near her."
"Yes; but she hath angel visitors to bring her comfort and solace,
Bertrand, the like of which no other maid had ever before. I believe her
in very truth to be a messenger from the blessed Saints that love France.
Still, with you, I am glad that Madame Bellier hath her in her care."
Jeanne's chambers were in the upper story of the tower, and Lieutenant
Bellier sent her for a servant one of his own pages, Louis de Coutes,
sometimes called Mugot, who came from an old warrior family which had
been in service of the house of Orleans for a century. Her two knights
with their servants had chambers just beneath hers.
And now that the King had taken her under his charge people flocked to
see her. Churchmen came to test her orthodoxy; Captains to ask her about
her knowledge of war; and all the lords and ladies to question her
concerning her mission, for it was dull at Chinon, and a witch was worth
looking at any day. Jeanne was impatient to be about her work, but she
answered them all so aptly, and was so gentle and simple, that all who
met her grew to believe in her.
Many too were curious concerning the oak wood, asking if the Bois Chesnu
were not in her country, for every one now recalled Merlin's prophecy,
and was impressed by it. Every day the King had her brought to him. He
was weak and timorous, but her simple faith impressed him, as it
impressed all who saw her, and her entire trust in him gave him some
courage and self-reliance. He wished to give the Maid men-at-arms at
once, as he had promised, but the Royal Council over-ruled him. The
Counsellors acknowledged that it was not unusual for princes to have the
counsel of devout women; that women in whom was the voice of God were not
to be scorned; that even the kings of England were no less ready than the
kings of France to heed the words of saintly men and women; still, it
behooved him to proceed carefully in the matter, lest he should be
charged with helping himself by witchcraft.
In the Middle Ages it was the custom for saints to speak with kings and
for kings to listen to them, but sorcery was the unpardonable sin.
Therefore, it was the opinion of the Royal Council that, before giving
the maiden the men-at-arms for which she asked, she should be subjected
to a more searching examination than any that had yet been made. And
while the talk waged pro and con the fame of Jeanne grew and filled all
mouths. She fired the zeal of the captains who came to see her, and
shamed them into some hope of saving France; she charmed the ladies of
the Court by her modesty; while the common people told wonderful stories
of her piety, exploits and adventures. To bring this about in the short
time that she had been in Chinon was no mean achievement for a girl of
seventeen, but Jeanne, believing God to be the author of the whole work,
wondered only that any one should hesitate for a moment to trust His
messenger.
One day she attended mass in the royal chapel, as was her daily custom,
and when her devotions were finished she rose to find the King and a
young nobleman standing beside her. Jeanne courtesied to the monarch,
whereupon he said:
"We have brought our cousin, the Duke of Alencon, to see you, Jeanne. He
hath great interest in the house of Orleans, having married the daughter
of Duke Charles."
"He is welcome," spoke Jeanne simply. "The more of the blood royal there
are here the better."
"So we believe," said the King, smiling. "It is our pleasure that you
dine with us to-day, that our cousin may learn more of your mission."
Again Jeanne bowed low, charming Alencon by her courtly manners. Then she
and the Duke followed the King to the dining hall. La Tremouille, the
King's favorite, was present also. Barrel-like in appearance, a toper,
and a usurer, loaning money to the King and the nobles at high interest,
La Tremouille was a most important personage at Court. Dismissing the
rest of the courtiers the King sat down at the table with the other
three, the peasant maid not at all disturbed by being the guest of
royalty. Yet but one short month agone she had been the guest of the
humble Catherine le Royer, the wheelwright's wife.
But Jeanne did not think of this. Her thoughts were for the Dauphin, and
she was filled with the desire that he should govern wisely and well the
realm which he held in trust from God. So she talked seriously to him,
asking him to amend his life, and live after God's will. He was to be
clement, and to be a good lord to rich and poor, friend and enemy. If he
would be all this the King of Heaven would do for him what he had done
for his ancestors, and would restore him to his former estate.
And gazing into the bright, eager young face, flushed with courage and
glowing with celestial ardor the King was thrilled, and longed to do
kingly deeds and to be worthy of the blood of Louis, his saintly
ancestor. After the dinner the four went to the meadows by the river,
where Jeanne guided her horse and wielded her lance with so much skill
that both the King and the Duke marvelled.
"'Tis but an indifferent steed you ride, Pucelle," spoke Alencon, for
Jeanne was still using the horse that De Baudricourt had bought for her.
"I will send you another that shall bear you more worthily."
The very next day he presented her with a magnificent black charger which
Jeanne rode thereafter. It was the beginning of a warm friendship between
the two. He became one of the maiden's most enthusiastic supporters, and
Jeanne grew fond of him not only because he was son-in-law to the Duke of
Orleans, but because the English had done him wrong, and he had a good
will to fight. Jeanne measured men by that standard. She had a wholesome,
hearty contempt for men who skulked at Court and spent their time in idle
pleasure while France lay under the heel of the invader. Alencon had but
just returned to his home after being held captive by the English for
three years. It was told of him that his captors had proposed to give him
back his liberty and his goods if he would join their party, but he
rejected the offer. He was young like her, and Jeanne thought that like
her he must be sincere and noble.
In spite of her increasing influence over churchmen, and captains, and
people, the King still wavered, influenced by the Royal Council and the
favorite. La Tremouille, though indifferent to Jeanne, because he had not
yet come to dread her power and to intrigue against her as he did a few
months later, was disinclined to action, and had no intention of allowing
Charles to shake off his indolence. So there were further delays while
the King's confessor and others examined the maiden daily. Though she was
aware that these men questioned her by orders from the King, Jeanne did
not talk freely, but answered discreetly concerning her mission.
"In God's name, my fair duke, why do they ask so many questions instead
of setting me about my work?" she asked piteously of Alencon one day
after a visit from some of the bishops.
"Perchance 'tis natural for them to doubt," replied the duke consolingly.
"You will have to be patient, Jeanne, though there is much to try you in
delay."
"Patient, patient!" ejaculated Jeanne, who was eating her heart out with
the desire to engage the enemy immediately at Orleans.
"Can Orleans hold out forever? Why do they not take Messire's word as it
comes to them? Daily do I pray to be delivered from these churchmen."
Alencon laughed, but checked his mirth quickly at sight of the tears that
were in Jeanne's eyes.
"Endure a little longer, my friend," he said gently. "I believe that the
end of these many queries is in sight, though before it comes it has been
decided to send you to Poictiers."
"To Poictiers?" exclaimed Jeanne. "And why to Poictiers?"
"The Royal Council think it best for you to be examined by the learned
Doctors there," he explained. "They acknowledge that they can find no
fault in you, but before giving you men-at-arms to go to Orleans they
wish that the Church should pass upon your inspiration. When that is over
I believe that there will be no further delay in sending you to
Orleans."
"What is the use in having learned men ask me questions when I know
neither A nor B?" queried Jeanne, dashing the tears from her eyes. "But
in God's name, let us be going, since we must go. Much ado will be there,
I know. But my Lord will help me. Now let us go, my bonny duke, in God's
strength."
The very next day she set forth for Poictiers, attended by a large
company, for many were eager to see how the peasant maid would acquit
herself before the learned Doctors. Beside Alencon and her own knights
there were certain veteran men-at-arms among the company; men who laughed
at the idea that a mere girl of seventeen could raise the siege of
Orleans. There were many courtiers, some who believed in the maid, and
others who welcomed the diversion. The Queen's mother, Yolande, who
wished to see her daughter seated firmly upon the throne of France, and
who believed in the simple shepherd maid, went also. But her presence did
not console Jeanne, who fretted because so much valuable time was being
wasted.
There were learned doctors at Poictiers, which was distant some fifty
miles from Chinon. Men who, loyal to the King, had left the University
of Paris as soon as the capital had fallen into the hands of the English,
and followed the fortunes of Charles, choosing this town for their
abiding place, and later founding a university there. It was the home of
the Bar also, the great legal center, and here, if anywhere in Charles's
dominions, it seemed probable that men might be found able to distinguish
between good spirits and bad.
On her arrival in the city Jeanne was lodged in the house of Maitre Jean
Robateau, the attorney general, a man of wealth and distinction, married
to an excellent wife. The house was near the law courts, and had built
into it a little chapel where Jeanne went at once to pray. It proved a
haven of refuge in the days that followed.
The Archbishop of Reims presided over the Council which was soon held.
The Council appointed a Committee of Investigation, and sent emissaries
to Domremy to inquire into her previous history. The Committee included
several professors of theology, an abbot, a canon of Poictiers, and one
or two friars. Escorted by a squire this Committee went to interview
Jeanne at Robateau's house, for she was not formally examined before the
whole board of Doctors. She came to meet them as they entered, but the
sight of the priests irritated her. She had been subjected to so much
questioning at Chinon that she was weary of it. It seemed so needless and
futile. For working priests and for people in religion she held a sacred
regard. For learned Doctors she had no use.
The squire, a young man of the sword named Thibault, pleased her better
than the priests, for he was in military dress. She acknowledged the
presence of the Committee with an obeisance, then went quickly to the
squire and clapped him on the shoulder, comrade fashion.
"Would that I had many men of your way of thinking, friend," she said.
"Maid," spoke the abbot gravely, "attend now to what we shall say. We are
sent to you from the King."
"I know quite well that you are sent to question me," spoke the maiden
with spirit, "but of what avail is it? I know neither A nor B."
At this the Committee began to ply her with questions.
"Why have you come to Court?" asked the abbot.
"I am come from the King of Heaven to raise the siege of Orleans, and to
lead the Dauphin to Reims for his crowning and anointing," she made
answer.
"But what made you think of coming?" asked a professor of theology.
"Because of the great pity there was in Heaven for the realm of France,
my Voices told me to come, nothing doubting," replied the maiden
earnestly.
"Your voices? What voices?"
Jeanne saw that much as she disliked to talk of her visions,--it was
always of her mission and her Voices that she told,--there was need of
some explanation. The grave Doctors listened attentively while she told
something of her revelations, but not all. She was a peasant maid,
ignorant, simple, her hands hardened with toil, her way of life humble
and obscure, yet as she related her ineffable experiences she seemed a
thing divine.
Having much food for thought they questioned her no more that day, and
Jeanne retired to the chapel to seek comfort from her saints, who all
this time continued to visit her daily, yet giving only the one
constantly repeated command. The next day the Committee returned.
"You tell us," said a professor of theology, "that God wishes to free the
people of France from their distress. If He wishes to free them there is
no need for the soldiers you ask for."
"In God's name," exclaimed Jeanne with some irritation, "the men-at-arms
will fight, and God will give the victory."
There was a stir among the learned men at this answer. The professor who
had asked the question smiled as though well pleased, while the King's
advocate murmured:
"No clerk of the court could have answered better."
After the little flurry had subsided, one Seguin, a Carmelite friar of
learning and repute, next took his turn. He was a native of Limoges, and
spoke the dialect of his district.
"In what language, Pucelle, do these voices speak to you?"
Now this query seemed frivolous to Jeanne. She knew no language but
French, so what other could the Voices use?
"In a better than yours," she flashed, and there followed a general
laugh, for the patois of Limoges was a common subject of ridicule.
"Do you believe in God?" continued the friar, nothing daunted by the
mirth.
"More firmly than you do," she replied seriously.
"Then you must know, Pucelle, that God does not wish us to trust you
without some sign that you can do what you say. Gideon, for a sign, laid
a fleece of wool upon the floor, and in the morning there was dew upon it
so that he could wring a bowl of water from it, while all about the floor
was dry; and the second night the fleece was dry and the floor was wet.
So Gideon showed to the children of Israel, and it was his sign that he
was from the Lord. We can not advise the King to risk his soldiers just
on the strength of your simple word. What is your sign, Pucelle?"
"In God's name," cried Jeanne, now thoroughly worn out, "I did not come
to show signs in Poictiers; but lead me to Orleans with few or many
men-at-arms, and I will show you the sign for which I am sent. Attend,
and I will tell you also what is to happen in France: I will summon the
English, and if they do not heed I will drive them from their siege. I
will lead the Dauphin to his crowning and anointing at Reims; Paris will
come into its allegiance to the rightful king, and the Duc d'Orleans will
return from his captivity; so my Voices have told me."
And of those who heard the words all lived to see the fulfillment of
Jeanne's prophecies save only the maiden herself. During her life but the
first two came to pass.
"Why do you call the King the Dauphin, even as the foreigners do who deny
him the right to the throne?" asked another.
"Because he is not the King until he is anointed and crowned with the
sacred oil," she answered.
And so daily for three weeks the questioning continued. Beside this
formal and official examination of her faith and character, private
inquests of all kinds were made concerning her claims. She was visited by
every curious person, man or woman, in the town or its vicinity, and
plied with endless questions, so that her simple personal story and that
of her revelations became known to all the whole country round about.
The two Queens, Yolande and her daughter Marie, with their ladies, took
her in hand, and subjected her to an inquiry more penetrating still than
that of the graver tribunals. They inquired into her history in every
subtle feminine way, testing her innocence and purity. The women were
especially interested about the male attire, and pressed this query. To
the Queen's mother, Yolande, she told the reasons.
"In the first place, your majesty," said the maiden simply, "'tis the
only dress for fighting, which, though far from my desires or from the
habits of my life, is henceforth to be my work; this being the case, I am
constrained to live among men-at-arms, and such dress is therefore more
seemly."
"True," said the Queen thoughtfully; then presently she nodded an
emphatic approval. "You are quite right, child. I see it. Others shall
see it too."
"And too," spoke Jeanne, smiling at the Queen, "the habit matters nothing
after all. I must wear it to do what I am commanded to do."
Yolande went away charmed by the Maid, and reported the result not only
to the waiting women, but also to the learned Council. "It was her
belief," she said, "that the child was sent from God."
And so said all the women. Jeanne had ever the women with her. So also
said many of the members of the Council who were growing more and more to
believe in the girl. There were men who were disgusted with the cowardice
and treachery of La Tremouille, and not unwilling to fight for France;
the energy of such men was aroused by Jeanne's enthusiasm.
Meantime the friars who had been sent to Domremy to investigate her
former manner of living now returned to report that they had found
no flaw in her character. At the end of the three weeks of daily
examinations there came a day when Jeanne was summoned before the
whole Board of Doctors to hear the judgment of the Council. The two
faithful knights, Alencon, and other of her true friends went with
her to give comfort should the verdict be adverse. But Jeanne was
bright and smiling, never doubting for a moment that the result
could be other than in her favor. The King and his adherents had
come also, and Yolande, the Queen's mother, beside a great audience of
the people of the town.
After the formal opening, the Archbishop of Reims, who presided over the
Council, rose and read the judgment.
"The case of the kingdom being desperate we, the members of the Council,
believe that the King should not reject the Maid, nor should he lightly
believe in her. But, in accordance with Holy Scripture, he ought to make
trial of her by two ways, that is, first, by human wisdom, examining into
her character, life, and intentions; and secondly, by devout prayer,
asking a sign of some divine deed or ground of hope by which he may judge
whether she is come by the will of God.
"The Maid's character has been studied; inquiry has been made into her
birth, past life and intentions; for she has been examined by clerks,
churchmen, men of the sword, matrons and widows. Nothing has been found
in her but honesty, simplicity, humility, maidenhood, and devotion.
"After hearing all these reports, taking into consideration the great
goodness of the Maid, and that she declares herself to be sent by God, it
is therefore determined by this Council that from henceforward the King
should make use of her for his wars, since it was for this she was sent.
The King then, ought not to prevent her from going to Orleans to show the
sign of heavenly succor, and it is the opinion of this Council that she
may go with the army under honourable superintendence."
There was dead silence as the Archbishop concluded the reading. Dead
silence as the people grasped the full significance of the verdict. The
incredible thing had happened. The peasant Maid had triumphed over the
learned Doctors, even as her own Saint Catherine had triumphed. To the
young girl, barely seventeen, was delivered the marvellous task of
raising the siege of Orleans.
Suddenly the silence was broken by a storm of applause. Charles rose from
his seat and beckoned the maid to come to him. As she arose to obey the
command, the Court and people rose and stood reverently as a mark of
homage and respect. Charles himself, moved by knightly impulse to do a
kingly deed, descended from the throne, and himself escorted her to the
throne where all might see, then bent low over her hand as though she
were the royal creature and he but the humble servitor.
But Jeanne, the tears of gladness streaming from her eyes, fell upon her
knees and kissed his hand fervently. For Charles to her was France;
France, represented, embodied, and made into a living thing--the France
she was come to save.