of no great historical importance, but it is worth noting as an example
of the use made of the charge of heresy as a weapon in political
warfare, and of the elastic definition by which heresy was brought to
include offences not easily justiciable in the ordinary courts.
Under Charles VI. of France the royal power was reduced to a shadow. His
frequently recurring fits of insanity rendered him incapable of
governing, and the quarrels of ambitious princes of the blood reduced
the kingdom almost to a state of anarchy. Especially bitter was the feud
between the king's brother, Louis, Duke of Orleans, and his cousin, Jean
sans Peur of Burgundy. Yet even that age of violence was startled when,
by the procurement of Jean sans Peur, the Duke of Orleans, in 1407, was
assassinated in the streets of Paris--a murder which remained unavenged
until 1419, when the battle-axe of Tanneguy du Châtel balanced the
account on the bridge of Montereau. Even Jean sans Peur felt the need of
some apology for his bloody deed, and he sought the assistance of Jean
Petit, who read before the royal court a thesis--the _Justificatio Ducis
Burgundiæ_--to prove that he had acted righteously and patriotically,
and that he deserved the thanks of king and people. Written in the
conventional scholastic style, the tract was not a mere political
pamphlet, but an argument based on premises of general principles. It is
a curious coincidence that, nearly three centuries earlier, another
Johannes Parvus, better known as John of Salisbury, the worthiest
representative of the highest culture of his day, in a purely
speculative treatise had laid down the doctrine that a tyrant was to be
put to death without mercy. According to the younger Jean Petit, "Any
tyrant can and ought properly to be slain by any subject or vassal, and
by any means, specially by treachery, notwithstanding any oath or
compact, and without awaiting judicial sentence or order." This rather
portentous proposition was limited by defining the tyrant to be one who
is endeavoring through cupidity, fraud, sorcery, or evil mind to deprive
the king of his authority, and the subject or vassal is assumed to be
one who is inspired by loyalty, and him the king should cherish and
reward. It was not difficult to find Scriptural warrant for such
assertion in the slaying of Zimri by Phineas, and of Holofernes by
Judith; but Jean Petit ventured on debatable ground when he declared
that St. Michael, without awaiting the divine command and moved only by
natural love, slew Satan with eternal death, for which he was rewarded
with spiritual wealth as great as he was capable of receiving.[355]
That this was not a mere lawyer's pleading is shown by the fact that it
was written in the vernacular and exposed for sale. Doubtless Jean sans
Peur circulated it extensively, and it was doubtless convincing to those
who were already convinced. It might safely have been allowed to perish
in the limbo of forgetfulness, but when, some six years later, the
Armagnac faction obtained the upper hand, it was exhumed from the dust
as a ready means of attacking the Burgundians. Jean Petit himself, by
opportunely dying some years before, escaped a trial for heresy, but in
November, 1313, a national council was assembled in Paris to consider
nine propositions extracted from his work. Gérard, Bishop of Paris, and
Frère Jean Polet, the inquisitor, summoned the masters of theology of
the University to give their opinions, which solemnly condemned the
propositions. The council debated the question with unwearied prolixity
through twenty-eight sessions, and finally, on February 23, 1314, it
adopted a sentence condemning the nine propositions to be burned as
erroneous in faith and morals, and manifestly scandalous. The sentence
was duly executed two days later on a scaffold in front of Nôtre Dame,
in presence of a vast crowd, to whom the famous doctor, Benoist Gencien,
elaborately explained the enormity of the heresy. Jean sans Peur
thereupon appealed to the Holy See from this sentence, and John XXIII.
appointed a commission of three cardinals--Orsini, Aquileia, and
Florence--to examine and report. Thus Jean Petit had succeeded in
becoming a European question, but in spite of this a royal ordonnance on
March 17 commanded all the bishops of the kingdom to burn the
propositions; on March 18, the University ordered them burned; on June 4
there was a royal mandate to publish the condemnation; on December 4 the
University came to the royal court and delivered an oration on the
subject, and on December 27 Charles VI. addressed a royal letter to the
Council of Constance asking it to join in the condemnation. Evidently
the affair was exploited to the uttermost; and when, on January 4, 1315,
the long-delayed obsequies of the Duke of Orleans were performed in
Nôtre Dame, Chancellor Gerson preached a sermon before the king and the
court, the boldness of which excited general comment. The government of
the Duke of Orleans had been better than any which had succeeded it; the
death of the Duke of Burgundy was not counselled, but his humiliation
was advocated; the burning of Petit's propositions was well done, but
more remained to do, and all this Gerson was ready to maintain before
all comers.[356]
It was in this mood that Gerson went to Constance as head of the French
nation. In his first address to the council, March 23, 1415, he urged
the condemnation of the nine propositions. The trial of John XXIII., the
condemnation of Wickliff and of communion in both elements, and the
discussion over Huss for a while monopolized the attention of the
council, and no action was taken until June 15. Meanwhile Gerson found
an ally in the Polish nation. John of Falckenberg had written a tract
applying the arguments of Jean Petit to the slaying of Polish princes,
of which the Archbishop of Gnesen had readily procured the condemnation
by the University of Paris, and the Polish ambassador joined Gerson in
the effort to have both put under the ban. On June 15, Andrea Lascaris,
Bishop of Posen, proposed that a commission be appointed to conduct an
inquisition upon new heresies. Jean Petit was not alluded to, but it was
understood that his propositions were aimed at, for the only negative
vote was that of Martin, Bishop of Arras, the ambassador of Jean sans
Peur, who asserted that the object of the movement was to assail his
master; and he further protested against Cardinal Peter d'Ailly, who was
put on the commission with Orsini, Aquileia, and Florence, as well as
two representatives of the Italian nation and four each of the French,
English, and German. On July 6, after rendering judgment against Huss,
the council condemned as heretical and scandalous the proposition
_Quilibet tyrannus_, which was virtually the first of the nine condemned
in Paris. This did not satisfy the French, who wanted the judgment of
the University confirmed on the whole series. During the two years and a
half that the council remained assembled, Gerson was unwearied in his
efforts to accomplish this object. These heresies he declared to be of
more importance than those of Huss and Jerome, and bitterly he scolded
the fathers for leaving the good work unfinished. Interminable was the
wrangling and disputation, appeals from Charles VI. and the University
on the one side, and from the Duke of Burgundy on the other. John of
Falckenberg was thrown into prison, but nothing would induce the council
to take further action, and the affair at last died out. It is difficult
for us at the present day to understand the magnitude which it assumed
in the eyes of that generation. Gerson subsequently felt himself obliged
to meet the jeers of those who reproached him with having risked a
question of such importance before such a body as the council, and he
justified himself by alleging that he had acted under instructions from
the king and the University, and the Gallican Church as represented in
the province of Sens. Moreover, he argued, when the council had
manifested such zeal in condemning the Wickliffite doctrines and in
burning Huss and Jerome, he would have been rash and unjust to suppose
that it would not have been equally earnest in repressing the yet more
pernicious heresies of Jean Petit. To us the result of greatest interest
was its influence on the fate of Gerson himself. On the dissolution of
the council he was afraid to risk the enmity of the Duke of Burgundy by
returning to France, and gladly accepted a refuge offered him in Austria
by Duke Ernest, which he repaid in a grateful poem. He never ventured
nearer home than Lyons, where his brother was friar of a convent of
Celestinian hermits, and where he supported himself by teaching school
till his death, July 14, 1429.[357]
* * * * *
Criticism would doubtless ere this have demonstrated the meteoric career
of Joan of Arc to be a myth, but for the concurrent testimony of friend
and foe and the documentary evidence, which enable us with reasonable
certainty to separate its marvellous vicissitudes from the legendary
details with which they have been obscured. For us her story has a
special interest, as affording another illustration of the ease with
which the inquisitorial process was employed for political ends.
In 1429 the French monarchy seemed doomed beyond hope of resuscitation.
In the fierce dissensions which marked the reign of the insane Charles
VI. a generation had grown up in whom adherence to faction had replaced
fidelity to the throne or to the nation; the loyalists were known not as
partisans of Charles VII., but as Armagnacs, and the Burgundians
welcomed the foreign domination of England as preferable to that of
their hereditary sovereign. Paris, in spite of the fearful privations
and losses entailed by the war, submitted cheerfully to the English
through the love it bore to their ally, the Duke of Burgundy. Joan of
Arc said that, in her native village, Domremy on the Lorraine border,
there was but one Burgundian, and his head she wished were cut off; but
Domremy and Vaucouleurs constituted the only Armagnac spot in
northeastern France, and its boys used to have frequent fights with the
Burgundian boys of Marey, from which they would be brought home wounded
and bleeding. Such was the all-pervading bitterness of discord
throughout the kingdom.[358]
Even the death of the brilliant Henry V., in 1423, had seemed to check
in no degree the progress of the English arms. Under the able regency of
his brother, the Duke of Bedford, seconded by such captains as
Salisbury, Talbot, Scales, and Fastolf, the infant Henry VI. appeared
destined to succeed to the throne of his grandfather, Charles VI., as
provided in the treaty of Troyes. In 1424 the victory of Verneuil
repeated the triumph of Agincourt. From Dauphiné alone three hundred
knights were left upon the field, and but for the fidelity of the
provinces won by the Albigensian crusades, Charles VII. would already
have been a king without a kingdom. Driven beyond the Loire, he was
known by the nickname of the Roi de Bourges. Vacillating and irresolute,
dominated by unworthy favorites, he hardly knew whether to retreat
farther to the south and make a final stand among the mountains of
Dauphiné, or to seek a refuge in Spain or Scotland. In 1428 his last
line of defence on the Loire was threatened by the leaguer of Orleans.
He was powerless to raise the siege, and for five months the heroic city
resisted till, reduced to despair, it sent the renowned knight, Pothon
de Xaintrallies to the Duke of Burgundy to ask him to accept its
allegiance. The duke was nothing loath, but the acquisition required the
assent of his English ally, and Bedford scornfully refused--he would
not, he said, beat the bush for another to win the bird. Two months more
of weary siege elapsed: as the spring of 1429 opened, further resistance
seemed useless, and for Charles there appeared nothing left but
ignominious retreat and eventual exile.[359]
Such was the hopeless condition of the French monarchy when the
enthusiasm of Joan of Arc introduced a new factor in the tangled
problem, kindling anew the courage which had been extinguished by an
unbroken series of defeats, arousing the sense of loyalty which had
been lost in faction, bringing religion as a stimulus to patriotism, and
replacing despair with eager confidence and hopefulness. It has been
given to few in the world's history thus to influence the destiny of a
nation, and perhaps to none so obscure and apparently so unfitted.[360]
Born January 6, 1484, in the little hamlet of Domremy, on the border
line of Lorraine, she had but completed her seventeenth year when she
confidently assumed the function of the saviour of her native land.[361]
Her parents, honest peasants, had given her such training as comported
with her station; she could, of course, neither read nor write, but she
could recite her Pater Noster, Ave Maria, and Credo; she had herded the
kine, and was a notable sempstress--on her trial she boasted that no
maid or matron of Rouen could teach her anything with the needle. Thanks
to her rustic employment she was tall and strong-limbed, active and
enduring. It was said of her that she could pass six days and nights
without taking off her harness, and marvellous stories were told of her
abstinence from food while undergoing the most exhausting labor in
battle and assault. Thus a strong physical constitution was dominated by
a still stronger and excitable nervous organization. Her resolute
self-reliance was shown when she was sought in marriage by an honest
citizen of Toul, whose suit her parents favored. Finding her obdurate,
he had recourse, it would seem with her parents' consent, to the law,
and cited her before the Official of Toul to fulfil the marriage promise
which he alleged she had made to him. Notwithstanding her youth, Joan
appeared undaunted before the court, swore that she had given no
pledges, and was released from the too-ardent suitor. At the age of
thirteen she commenced to have ecstasies and visions. The Archangel
Michael appeared to her first, and he was followed by St. Catharine and
St. Margaret, whom God had specially commissioned to watch over and
guide her. Even the Archangel Gabriel sometimes came to counsel her,
and she felt herself the instrument of the divine will, transmuting by a
subtle psychical alchemy her own impulses into commands from on high. At
length she could summon her heavenly advisers at will and obtain from
them instructions in any doubtful emergency. In her trial great stress
was laid upon an ancient beech-tree, near Domremy, known as the Ladies'
Tree, or Fairies' Tree, from near the roots of which gushed forth a
spring of miraculous healing virtue. A survival of tree and fountain
worship was preserved in the annual dances and songs of the young girls
of the village around the tree, and the garlands which they hung upon
its boughs, but Joan, although she joined her comrades in these
observances, usually reserved her garlands to decorate the shrine of the
Virgin in the church hard by. Extreme religious sensibility was
inseparable from such a character as hers, and almost at the first
apparition of her celestial visitants she made a vow of virginity. She
believed herself consecrated and set apart for some high and holy
purpose, to which all earthly ties must be subordinate. When she related
to her judges that her parents were almost crazed at her departure, she
added that if she had had a hundred fathers and mothers she would have
abandoned them to fulfil her mission. To this self-concentration,
reflected in her bearing, is probably to be attributed the remark of
several of her chroniclers, that no man could look upon her with a
lascivious eye.[362]
At first her heavenly guides merely told her to conduct herself well and
to frequent the church, but as she grew to understand the desperate
condition of the monarchy and to share the fierce passions of the time,
it was natural that these purely moral instructions should change into
commands to bear from God the message of deliverance to the despairing
people. In her ecstasies she felt herself to be the chosen instrument,
and at length her Voices, as she habitually called them, urged her
several times a week to hasten to France and to raise the siege of
Orleans. To her parents she feared to reveal her mission; some unguarded
revelation they must have had, for, two years before her departure, her
father, Jacques Darc, had dreams of her going off with the soldiers, and
he told her brothers that if he thought that his dreams would come true
he wished they would drown her, or he would do it himself. Thenceforth
she was closely watched, but the urgency of her celestial counsellors
grew into reproaches for her tardiness, and further delay was
unendurable. Obtaining permission to visit her uncle, Denis Laxart, she
persuaded him to communicate her secret to Robert de Baudricourt, who
held for the king the neighboring castle of Vaucouleurs. Her Voices had
predicted that she would be twice repulsed and would succeed the third
time. It so turned out. The good knight, who at first contemptuously
advised her uncle to box her ears, at length was persuaded to ask the
king's permission to send the girl to him. She must have acquired a
reputation of inspiration, for while awaiting the response the Duke of
Lorraine, who was sick, sent for her and she told him that if he wished
a cure he must first reconcile himself with his wife. On the royal
permission being accorded, de Baudricourt gave to her a man's dress and
a sword, with a slender escort of a knight and four men, and washed his
hands of the affair.[363]
The little party started, February 13, 1429, on their perilous ride of a
hundred and fifty leagues, in the depth of winter, through the enemy's
country. That they should accomplish it without misadventure in eleven
days was in itself regarded as a miracle, and as manifesting the favor
of God. On February 24 they reached Chinon, where Charles held his
court, only to encounter new obstacles. It is true that some persons of
sense, as we are told, recognized in her the fulfilment of Merlin's
prophecy, "_Descendet virgo dorsum sagittarii et flores virgineos
obscurabit_;" others found her foretold by the Sibyl and by the
Venerable Bede; others asked her whether there was not in her land a
forest known as the Bois Chênu, for there was an ancient prediction that
from the Bois Chênu there would come a wonder-working maiden--and they
were delighted on learning that it lay but a league from her father's
house. Those, however, who relied on worldly wisdom shook their heads
and pronounced her mission an absurdity--in fact, it was charitable to
regard her as insane. It shows, indeed, to what depth of despair the
royal cause had fallen, that her pretensions were regarded as of
sufficient importance to warrant investigation. Long were the debates.
Prelates and doctors of theology, jurists and statesmen examined her for
a month, and one by one they were won over by her simple earnestness,
her evident conviction, and the intelligence of her replies. This was
not enough, however. In Poitiers sat Charles's Parlement and a
University composed of such schoolmen as had abandoned the anglicized
University of Paris. Thither was Joan sent, and for three weeks more she
was tormented with an endless repetition of questioning. Meanwhile her
antecedents were carefully investigated, with a result in every way
confirming her good repute and truthfulness. Charles was advised to ask
of her a sign by which to prove that she came from God, but this she
refused, saying that it was the divine command that she should give it
before Orleans, and nowhere else. Finally, the official conclusion,
cautiously expressed, was that in view of her honest life and
conversation, and her promising a sign before Orleans, the king should
not prevent her from going there, but should convey her there in safety;
for to reject her without the appearance of evil would be to rebuff the
Holy Ghost, and to render himself unworthy the grace and aid of
God.[364]
Two months had been wasted in these preliminaries, and it was the end of
April before the determination was reached. A convoy was in preparation
to throw provisions into the town, and it was resolved that Joan should
accompany it. Under instructions from her Voices she had a standard
prepared, representing on a white field Christ holding the world, with
an angel on each side--a standard which was ever in the front of battle,
which was regarded as the surest guarantee of success, and which in the
end was gravely investigated as a work of sorcery. She had assigned to
her a troop or guard, but does not seem to have been intrusted with any
command, yet she assumed that she was taking the field as the
representative of God, and must first give the enemy due notice of
defiance. Accordingly, on April 18, she addressed four letters, one to
Henry VI. and the others to the Regent Bedford, the captains before
Orleans, and the English soldiers there, in which she demanded the
surrender of the keys of all the cities held in France; she announced
herself ready to make peace if they will abandon the land and make
compensation for the damages inflicted, otherwise she is commissioned by
God, and will drive them out with a shock of arms such as had not been
seen in France for a thousand years. It is scarce to be wondered that
these uncourtly epistles excited no little astonishment in the English
camp. Rumors of her coming had spread; she was denounced as a sorceress,
and all who placed faith in her as heretics. Talbot declared that he
would burn her if she was captured, and the heralds who brought her
letters were only saved from a similar fate by a determined threat of
reprisals on the part of Dunois, then in command at Orleans.[365]
Some ten days later the convoy started under command of Gilles de Rais
and the Maréchal de Sainte-Sevère. Joan had promised that it should meet
with no opposition, and faith in her was greatly enhanced when her words
proved true. Although it passed within one or two bow-shots of the
English siege-works, and though there was considerable delay in ferrying
the cattle and provisions across the Loire into the city, not an attempt
at interference was made. The same occurred with a second convoy which
reached Orleans May 4, to the surprise of the French and the disgust of
the Parisians, who watched the affair from a distance, and were unable
to understand the paralysis which seemed to have fallen on the English
arms. Joan had impatiently awaited these last reinforcements, and urged
immediate offensive measures against the besiegers. Without consulting
her, on the same day an assault was made on one of the English works on
the other side of the Loire. Her legend relates that she started up from
slumber exclaiming that her people were being slaughtered, and, scarcely
waiting for her armor to be adjusted, sprang on her horse and galloped
to the gate leading to the scene of action. The attack had miscarried,
but after her arrival on the scene not an Englishman could wound a
Frenchman, and the _bastille_ was carried. Hot fighting occurred on the
following days. On the 6th she was wounded in the foot by a caltrop, and
on the 7th in the shoulder by an arrow, but in spite of desperate
resistance all the English works on the farther bank of the Loire were
taken, and their garrisons slain or captured. The English loss was
estimated at from six thousand to eight thousand men, while that of the
French was not over one hundred. On the 8th the English abandoned the
siege, marching off in such haste that they left behind them their sick
and wounded, their artillery and magazines. The French, flushed with
victory, were eager to attack them, but Joan forbade it--"Let them go;
it is not the will of Messire that they should be fought to-day; you
will have them another time"--and by this time her moral ascendency was
such that she was obeyed. So marvellous was the change in the spirit of
the opposing forces, that it was a common remark that before her coming
two hundred English would rout five hundred Frenchmen, but that
afterwards two hundred French would chase four hundred English. Even the
unfriendly Monstrelet admits that after the raising of the siege of
Orleans there was no captain who so filled the mouths of men as she,
though she was accompanied by knights so renowned as Dunois, La Hire,
and Pothon de Xaintrailles. The Regent Bedford, in writing to the
English council, could only describe it as a terrible blow from the
divine hand, especially "caused of unleyefulle doubte that thei hadde of
a Desciple and Lyme of the Feende called the Pucelle that used fals
Enchauntements and Sorcerie." Not only, he says, were the English forces
diminished in number and broken in spirit, but the enemy was encouraged
to make great levies of troops.[366]
In the chronic exhaustion of the royal treasury it was not easy for
Charles to take full advantage of this unexpected success, but the
spirit of the nation was aroused and a force could be kept spasmodically
in the field. D'Alençon was sent with troops to clear the Loire valley
of the enemy, and took Joan with him. Suffolk had fortified himself in
Jargeau, but the place was carried by assault and he was captured with
all his men who were not slain. Then want of money caused a return to
Tours, where Joan earnestly urged Charles to go to Reims for his
coronation: she had always claimed that her mission was to deliver
Orleans and to crown the king; that her time was short and that the
counsel of her Voices must not be disregarded, but prudence prevailed,
and it was felt that the English power in the central provinces must
first be crushed. A second expedition was organized. Beaugency was
besieged and taken, and on June 18 the battle of Patay gave some slight
amends for Agincourt and Verneuil. After feeble resistance the English
fled. Twenty-five hundred of them were left upon the field, and large
numbers were captured, including Talbot, Scales, and others of note.
Thus in little more than six weeks all the leading English captains were
slain or in captivity, except Fastolf, whose flight from Patay Bedford
avenged by tearing from him the Order of the Garter. Their troops were
dispersed and dispirited, their prestige was gone. It was no wonder that
in all this one side recognized the hand of God and the other that of
the devil. Even the Norman chronicler, P. Cochon, says that the English
would have abandoned France if the regent would have allowed it, and
that they were so dispirited that one Frenchman would chase three of
them.[367]
A letter written from the court of Charles VII. to the Duke of Milan
three days after the triumph of Patay, recounting the marvels of the
previous weeks, shows how Joan was regarded and how rapidly her legend
was growing. At her birth the villagers of Domremy were joyously
excited, they knew not why, and the cocks for two hours flapped their
wings and uttered a song wholly different from their ordinary crowing.
Her visions were described in the most exaggerated terms, as well as her
personal prowess and endurance. The relief of Orleans, the capture of
Jargeau, Mehun-sur-Loire, and Beaugency, and the crowning mercy of Patay
were all attributed to her: hers was the initiative, the leadership, and
the success; no one else is alluded to. We are told, moreover, that she
was already predicting the deliverance of Charles of Orleans, a prisoner
in England for fifteen years, and had sent a notice to the English to
surrender him.[368]
It could no longer be doubted that Joan was under the direct inspiration
of God, and when at Gien, on June 25, there was a consultation as to the
next movement, though Charles's councillors advised him to reduce La
Charité and clear the Orleannais and Berri of the enemy, it is no wonder
that he yielded to Joan's urgency and gave his assent to a march to
Reims. The enterprise seemed a desperate one, for it lay through a
hostile country with strong cities along the road, and the royal
resources were inadequate to equipping and provisioning an army or
providing it with siege-trains. But enthusiasm was rising to fever
heat, and human prudence was distrust of God. Volunteers came pouring in
as soon as the king's intentions were noised abroad, and gentlemen too
poor to arm and mount themselves were content to serve as simple archers
and retainers. La Trémouille, the royal favorite, thinking his own
position endangered, caused the services of multitudes to be rejected,
but for which, it was said, an army sufficient to drive the English from
France could readily have been collected. On went the ill-conditioned
forces. Auxerre, though not garrisoned, refused to open its gates, but
gave some provisions, and in spite of Joan's desire to take it by
assault the king went forward, induced, it was said, by La Trémouille,
who had received from the town a bribe of two thousand livres. At Troyes
there was a strong English and Burgundian garrison; it could not be left
behind, and the army encamped before it for five or six days, with no
artillery to breach its walls. There was neither money nor victual, and
the only subsistence was ears of corn and beans plucked in the fields.
The situation was discouraging, and a council of war under the impulse
of the Chancellor Renaud de Chartres, Archbishop of Reims, advised
retreat. Joan was sent for and declared that within two days the town
would surrender. She was given the time she asked, and at once proceeded
to gather material to fill the trenches, and to mount some small
culverins. A panic seized the inhabitants and they demanded to
surrender; the garrison was allowed to march out, and the city returned
to its allegiance.[369]
When Joan entered the town she was met by a Frère Richard, whom the
people had sent to examine her and report what she was. The worthy
friar, doubtful whether she was of heaven or hell, approached her
cautiously, sprinkling holy water and making the sign of the cross, till
she smiled and told him to come boldly on, as she was not going to fly
away. This Frère Richard was a noted Franciscan preacher who had
recently returned from a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and in April had made
the deepest impression on Paris with his eloquence. From April 16th to
the 26th he had preached daily to audiences of five and six thousand
souls, and had excited such a tempest of emotion that on one day a
hundred bonfires were built in the streets into which men threw their
cards and dice and tables, and women their ornaments and frippery. Over
this man Joan obtained so complete a mastery that he devoted himself to
her and followed her in her campaigns, using his eloquence to convert
the people, not from their sins, but from their disloyalty to Charles.
When the good Parisians heard of this they resumed their cards and dice
to spite him. Even a tin medal with the name of Jesus which he had given
them to wear was cast aside for the red cross of Burgundy. In the
passion of the hour on both sides religion was but the handmaid of
partisanship.[370]
After this the march to Reims was a triumphant progress.
Chalons-sur-Marne sent half a day's journey in advance to submit and
took the oath of allegiance. At Septsaux the garrison fled and the
people welcomed their king, while the Dukes of Lorraine and Bar came to
join him with a heavy force. Reims was held for Burgundy by the Seigneur
de Saveuse, one of the doughtiest warriors of the day, but the citizens
were so frightened by the coming of the Pucelle, whose reported wonders
had impressed their imaginations, that they declared for Charles, and
Saveuse was obliged to fly. Charles entered the town on July 16, and was
joyfully received. The next day, Sunday, July 17, he was crowned King of
France. During the ceremony Joan stood by the altar with the standard:
her judges on her trial seemed to imagine that she held it there for
some occult influence which it was supposed to exercise, and inquired
curiously as to her motive; when she answered simply, "It had been in
the strife, it had a right to be in the honor."[371]
Joan might well claim that her mission was accomplished. In little more
than three months she had made the intending fugitive of Chinon a
conquering king, to whom his flatterers gave the title of the
Victorious. A few months more of such success would establish him firmly
on the throne of a reunited France, and no one could doubt that success
would grow more rapid if only with its own momentum. Negotiations were
on foot with the Duke of Burgundy, which were expected to result in
detaching him from the English cause. Joan had written to him some
weeks earlier asking him to be present at the coronation, and on the day
of the ceremony she addressed him another letter, summoning and
entreating him to return to his allegiance. In a few days Beauvais,
Senlis, Laon, Soissons, Château-Thierry, Provins, Compiègne, and other
places acknowledged Charles as king and received his garrisons. There
was universal exultation and a contagious delirium of returning loyalty.
As he marched the peasantry would gather with tears in their eyes to
bless him, and thank God that peace was at hand. All men admitted that
this was Joan's work. Christine de Pisan, in a poem written about this
time, compares her to Esther, Judith, Deborah, Gideon, and Joshua, and
even Moses is not her superior. A litany of the period contains a prayer
recognizing that God had delivered France by her hand. A Burgundian
chronicler tells us that the belief was general among the French
soldiery that she was an envoy of God who could expel the English; even
after the enthusiasm of the time had passed away Thomassin, who wrote
officially in a work addressed to Louis XI., does not hesitate to say
that of all the signs of love manifested by God to France, there has not
been one so great or so marvellous as this Pucelle--to her was due the
restoration of the kingdom, which was so low that it would have reached
its end but for her coming. That she was regarded as an oracle of God on
other subjects is seen in the application to her by the Comte d'Armagnac
to tell him which of the three popes to believe in; and her acceptance
of the position is shown by her answer, that when she is relieved from
the pressure of the war she will resolve his doubts by the counsel of
the King of all the world. If on the one hand her dizzy elevation turned
her head to the extent of addressing threatening letters to the
Hussites, on the other she never lost her kindly sympathy with the poor
and humble; she protected them as far as she could from the horrors of
war, comforted and supported them, and their grateful veneration shown
in kissing her hands and feet and garments was made a crime to her by
her pitiless judges.[372]
With all this it does not seem that Joan had any definite rank or
command in the royal armies. Christine de Pisan, it is true, speaks of
her as being the recognized chief--
"Et de nos gens preux et habiles
Est principale chevetaine"--
but it does not appear that her position had any other warrant than the
moral influence which her prodigious exploits and the belief in her
divine mission afforded. Charles's gratitude gave her a handsome
establishment. She was magnificently attired, noble damsels were
assigned to her service, with a _maître d'hotel_, pages, and valets; she
had five war-horses, with seven or more roadsters, and at the time of
her capture she had in her hands ten or twelve thousand francs, which,
as she told her judges, was little enough to carry on war with. Shortly
after his coronation, Charles, at her request, granted to Domremy and
Greux the privilege of exemption from all taxes, a favor which was
respected until the Revolution; and in December, 1429, he spontaneously
ennobled her family and all their posterity, giving them as arms on a
field azure two _fleurs-de-lis or_, traversed by a sword, and
authorizing them to bear the name of Du Lis--in all a slender return for
the priceless service rendered, and affording to her judges another
count in the indictment on her trial.[373]
All Europe was aroused with so portentous an apparition. It was not only
statesmen and warriors that watched with astonishment the strange
vicissitudes of the contest, but learned men and theologians were
divided in opinion as to whether she was under the influence of heavenly
or of infernal spirits, and were everywhere disputing and writing tracts
to uphold the one opinion or the other. In England, of course, there was
no dissent from the popular belief which Shakespeare puts in the mouth
of Talbot--
"A witch by fear, not force, like Hannibal,
Drives back our troops and conquers as she lists."
So general, indeed, was the terror that she excited that when, in May,
1430, it was proposed to send Henry VI. to Paris for coronation, both
captains and soldiers in the levies appointed for his escort deserted
and lay in hiding; and when, in December, after Joan lay a prisoner in
Rouen Castle and the voyage was performed, the same trouble was
experienced, requiring another proclamation to the sheriffs for the
arrest of those who were daily deserting, to the great peril of the
royal person and of the kingdom of France. Elsewhere the matter was not
thus taken for granted, and was elaborately argued with all the
resources of scholastic logic. Some tracts of this character attributed
to Gerson have been preserved, and exhibit to us the nature of the
doubts which suggested themselves to the learned of the time--whether
Joan is a woman or a phantasm; whether her acts are to be considered as
divine or phitonic and illusory; whether, if they are the result of
supernatural causes, they come from good or evil spirits. To Joan's
defenders the main difficulty was her wearing male attire and cutting
her hair short--an offence which in the end proved to be the most
tangible one to justify her condemnation. Even her advocates in the
schools felt that in this the case was weak. It had to be admitted that
the Old Law prohibits a woman from wearing man's garments, but this, it
was argued, was purely juridical, and was not binding under the New Law;
it had merely a moral object, to prevent indecency, and the
circumstances and objects were to be considered, so that the law could
not be held to prohibit manly and military vesture to Joan, who was both
manly and military. The cutting of her hair, prohibited by the Apostle,
was justified in the same manner.[374]
For a few weeks after the coronation Joan was at the culmination of her
career. An uninterrupted tide of success had demonstrated the reality of
her divine mission. She had saved the monarchy, and no one could doubt
that the invader would shortly be expelled from France. Possibly she
may, as has been represented, have declared that all which God had
appointed her to do had been accomplished, and that she desired to
return to her parents and herd their cattle as she had been accustomed
of old. In view of what followed, this was the only way to uphold the
theory of divine inspiration, and such a statement inevitably formed
part of her legend, whether it was true or not. In her subsequent
failures, as at Paris and La Charité, Joan naturally persuaded herself
that they had been undertaken against the counsel of her Voices, but all
the evidence goes to prove that at the time she was as confident of
success as ever. Thus a letter written from Reims on the day of
coronation, evidently by a well-informed person, states that the army
was to start the next day for Paris, and that the Pucelle had no doubts
as to her reducing it to obedience. Nor did she really consider her
mission as ended, for she had at the commencement proclaimed the
liberation of Charles of Orleans as one of her objects, and on her trial
she explained that she proposed either to invade England to set him free
or to capture enough prisoners to force an exchange: her Voices had
promised it to her, and had she not been captured she would have
accomplished it in three years.[375]
Be this as it may, from this time the marvellous fortune which had
attended her disappears; alternations of success and defeat show that
either the French had lost the first flush of confident enthusiasm, or
that the English had recovered from their panic and were doggedly
resolved to fight the powers of hell. Bedford managed to put a
respectable force in the field, with the assistance of Cardinal
Beaufort, who made over to him, it was said for a heavy bribe, four
thousand crusaders whom he was leading from England to the Hussite wars.
He barred the way to Paris, and three times the opposing armies, of
nearly equal strength, lay face to face, but Bedford always skilfully
chose a strong position which Charles dared not attack, showing that
human prudence had replaced the reckless confidence of the march to
Reims. We catch a glimpse of the intrigues of the factions surrounding
Charles in the attempted retreat to the Loire, frustrated at
Bray-sur-Seine, when the defeat of the courtiers who assailed the
English guarding the passage of the river was hailed with delight by
Joan, Bourbon, Alençon, and the party opposed to La Trémouille. Charles,
perforce, remained in the North. Towards the end of August, Bedford,
fearing an inroad on Normandy, marched thither, leaving the road to
Paris open, and Charles advanced to St. Denis, which he occupied without
resistance, August 25. On September 7 an attempt was made to capture
Paris by surprise, with the aid of friends within the walls, and this
failing, on the 8th, the feast of the Nativity of the Virgin, an assault
in force was made at the Porte St. Honoré. The water in the inner moat,
however, was too deep and the artillery on the walls too well served:
after five or six hours of desperate fighting the assailants were
disastrously repulsed with a loss of five hundred killed and one
thousand wounded. As usual Joan had been at the front till she fell with
an arrow through the leg, and her standard-bearer was slain by her side.
Joan subsequently averred that she had had no counsel from her Voices to
make this attempt, but had been over-persuaded by the eager chivalry of
the army; but this is contradicted by contemporary evidence, and her
letter to d'Armagnac promises him a reply when she shall have leisure in
Paris, showing that she fully expected to capture the city.[376]
From this time her checkered career was rather of evil fortune than of
good. If at St. Pierre-les-Moustiers the old enthusiasm made the forlorn
hope imagine that it ascended the breach as easily as a broad stairway,
the siege of La Charité, to which it was a preliminary, proved
disastrous, and again Joan averred that she had undertaken this without
orders from her Voices. It was freely said that La Trémouille had sent
her on the enterprise with insufficient forces and had withheld the
requisite succors. During the winter she was at Lagny, where occurred a
little incident which was subsequently used to confirm the charge of
sorcery. A child was born apparently dead; the parents, dreading to have
it buried without baptism, had it carried to the church, where it lay,
to all appearance, lifeless for three days; the young girls of the town
assembled in the church to pray for it, and Joan joined them. Suddenly
the infant gave signs of life, gaped thrice, was hurriedly baptized,
died, and was buried in consecrated ground, and Joan had the credit of
working a miracle, to be turned subsequently to her disadvantage.
Probably about the same time, there was trouble about a horse of the
Bishop of Senlis, which Joan took for her own use. She found it
worthless for her purposes and sent it back to him, and also caused him
to be paid two hundred saluts d'or for it (the salut d'or was equivalent
to twenty-two sols parisis), but on her trial the matter was gravely
charged against her, showing how eagerly every incident in her career
was scrutinized and utilized.[377]
As the spring of 1430 opened, the Duke of Burgundy came to the
assistance of his English allies by raising a large army for the
recovery of Compiègne. The activity of Joan was unabated. During Easter
week, about the middle of April, we hear of her in the trenches at
Melun, where her Voices announced to her that she would be a prisoner
before St. John's day, but would give her no further particulars. Before
the close of the month she attacked the advancing Burgundians at
Pont-l'Évêque, with her old comrade-in-arms Pothon de Xaintrailles, and
was worsted. Then she had a desperate fight with a Burgundian partisan,
Franquet d'Arras, whom she captured with all his troop; he had been a
notorious plunderer, the magistrates of Lagny claimed him for trial, and
after an investigation which lasted for fifteen days they executed him
as a robber and murderer, for which Joan was held responsible, his death
being one of the most serious charges pressed against her. About May 1
Compiègne was invested. Its siege was evidently to be the decisive event
of the campaign, and Joan hastened to the rescue. Before daylight on the
morning of the 5th she succeeded in entering the town with
reinforcements. In the afternoon of the same day a sally was resolved
upon, and Joan as usual led it, with Pothon and other captains by her
side. She fell upon the camp of a renowned knight of the Golden Fleece
named Bauldon de Noyelle, who, though taken by surprise, made a gallant
resistance. From the neighboring lines troops hastened to his
assistance, and the tide of battle swayed back and forth. A force of a
thousand Englishmen on their way to Paris had tarried to aid Philip of
Burgundy, and these were brought up between the French and the town to
take them in the rear. Joan fell back and endeavored to bring her men
off in safety, but while covering the retreat she was unable to regain
the fortifications, and was taken prisoner by the Bâtard de Vendôme, a
follower of Jean de Luxembourg, Comte de Ligny, second in command to the
duke. There was naturally talk of treachery, but it would seem without
foundation.. Pothon was likewise captured, and it evidently was but the
fortune of war.[378]
Great was the joy in the Burgundian camp when the news spread that the
dreaded Pucelle was a prisoner. English and Burgundians gave themselves
up to rejoicing, for, as the Burgundian Monstrelet, who was present,
informs us, they valued her capture more than five hundred fighting men,
for there was no captain or chief of whom they were so afraid. They
crowded around her quarters at Marigny, and even the Duke of Burgundy
himself paid her a visit and exchanged some words with her. At once the
question arose as to her possession. She was a prisoner of war,
belonging to Jean de Luxembourg, and, in those days of ransoming,
prisoners were valuable property. Under existing customs, Henry VI., as
chief of the alliance, had the right to claim the transfer of any
captured commanding general or prince on paying the captor ten thousand
livres--a sort of eminent domain, for in the wars of Edward III.
Bertrand du Guesclin had been held at a ransom of one hundred thousand
livres, the Constable de Clisson at the same, and in 1429 it had cost
the Duc d'Alençon two hundred thousand crowns to effect his liberation
from the English. In the exhausted state of the English exchequer,
however, even ten thousand livres was a sum not readily procurable. It
was a matter of absolute necessity to the English to have her, not only
to prevent her ransom by the French, but to neutralize her sorceries by
condemning and executing her under the jurisdiction of the Church. To
accomplish this the Inquisition was the most available instrumentality:
inside the English lines Joan was publicly reported to be a sorceress,
and as such was judiciable by the Inquisition, which therefore had a
right to claim her for trial. Accordingly, but a few days had elapsed
after her capture when Martin Billon, Vicar of the Inquisitor of France,
formally demanded her surrender, and the University of Paris addressed
two letters to the Duke of Burgundy urging that she should be promptly
tried and punished, lest his enemies should effect her deliverance. We
have seen how by this time the importance of the Inquisition in France
had shrunken, and Jean de Luxembourg was by no means disposed to
surrender his valuable prize without consideration. Then another device
was adopted. Compiègne, where Joan was captured, was in the diocese of
Beauvais. Pierre Cauchon, the Count-bishop of Beauvais, though a
Frenchman of the Remois, was a bitter English partisan, whose
unscrupulous cruelty at a later period excited the cordial detestation
even of his own faction. He had been driven from his see the previous
year by the returning loyalty of its people under the impulse given by
Joan, and may be assumed to have looked upon her with no loving eye. He
was told to claim her for trial under his episcopal jurisdiction, but
even he shrank from the odious business, and refused unless it could be
proved that it was his duty. Possibly the promise of the reversion of
the bishopric of Lisieux, with which he was subsequently rewarded, may
have assisted in convincing him, while the authority of the University
of Paris was invoked to quiet his scruples. July 14, the University
addressed letters to Jean de Luxembourg reminding him that his oath of
knighthood required him to defend the honor of God and the Catholic
faith, and the holy Church. Through Joan, idolatries, errors, false
doctrines, and evils innumerable had spread through France, and the
matter admitted of no delay. The Inquisition had earnestly demanded her
for trial, and Jean was urgently begged to surrender her to the Bishop
of Beauvais, who had likewise claimed her; all inquisitor-prelates are
judges of the faith, and all Christians of every degree are bound to
obey them under the heavy penalties of the law, while obedience will
acquire for him the divine grace and love, and will aid in the
exaltation of the faith. When furnished with this, Pierre Cauchon lost
no time. He left Paris at once with a notary and a representative of the
University, and on the 16th presented it to the Duke of Burgundy in the
camp before Compiègne, together with a summons of his own addressed to
the Duke, Jean de Luxembourg, and the Bâtard de Vendôme, demanding the
surrender of Joan for trial before him on charges of sorcery, idolatry,
invocation of the devil, and other matters involving the faith--trial
which he is ready to hold, with the assistance of the inquisitor and of
doctors of theology, for the exaltation of the faith and the edification
of those who have been misled by her. He further offered a ransom of six
thousand livres and a pension to the Bâtard de Vendôme of two or three
hundred livres, and if this was not enough the sum would be increased to
ten thousand livres, although Joan was not so great a person as the king
would have a right to claim on giving that amount; if required, security
would be furnished for the payment. These letters the duke transferred
to Jean de Luxembourg, who after some discussion agreed to sell her for
the stipulated sum. He would not trust his allies, however, even with
security, and refused to deliver his prisoner until the money was paid.
Bedford was obliged to convene the states of Normandy and levy a special
tax to raise it, and it was not till October 20 that Jean received his
price and transferred his captive.[379]
During all this long delay Charles, to his eternal dishonor, made no
effort to save the woman to whom he owed his crown. While her prolonged
trial was under way he did not even appeal to Eugenius IV. or to the
Council of Basle to evoke the case to their tribunal, an appeal which
would hardly have been rejected in a matter of so much interest. It is
true that her recent labors had not been so brilliantly successful as
those of the earlier period: he may have recognized that after all she
was but human; or he may have satisfied his conscience with the
reflection that if she were an envoy of God, God might be trusted to
extricate her. Besides, the party of peace in his court, headed by La
Trémouille, the favorite, had no desire to see the heroine at large
again, and the weak and self-indulgent monarch abandoned her to her fate
as, twenty years later, he abandoned Jacques Coeur.
Meanwhile Joan had been carried, strictly guarded to prevent her escape
by magic arts, from Marigny to the Castle of Beaulieu, and thence to the
Castle of Beaurevoir. In the latter prison she excited the interest of
the Dame de Beaurevoir, and of the Demoiselle de Luxembourg, aunt of
Jean. The latter earnestly remonstrated with her nephew when she learned
that he was treating with the English, and both ladies endeavored to
persuade Joan to adopt female habiliments. They must have impressed her
with their kindness, for she subsequently declared that she would have
made the change for them rather than for any other ladies in France. Her
restless energy chafed at the long captivity, and twice she made
attempts to escape. Once she succeeded in shutting her guards up in her
cell, and would have got off but that her jailer saw her and secured
her. Again, when she heard that she was to be surrendered to the
English, she despairingly threw herself from her lofty tower into the
ditch, careless whether it would kill her or not. Her Voices had
forbidden the attempt, but she said that she had rather die than fall
into English hands--and this was subsequently charged against her as an
attempted suicide and a crime. She was picked up for dead, but she was
reserved for a harsher fate and speedily recovered. She might well
regret the recovery when she was carried to Rouen, loaded with chains
and confined in a narrow cell where brutal guards watched her day and
night. It is even said that an iron cage was made, into which she was
thrust with fetters on wrist, waist, and ankles. She had been delivered
to the Church, not to the secular authorities; she was entitled to be
kept in an ecclesiastical prison, but the English had paid for her and
would listen to no reclamations. Warwick had charge of her and would
trust her to no one.[380]
Pierre Cauchon still was in no haste to commence the iniquitous work
which he had undertaken. After a month had passed, Paris grew excited at
the delay. The city, so ardently Anglicized, had a special grudge
against Joan, not only on account of believing that she had promised her
soldiers on the day of assault to allow them to sack the city and put
the inhabitants to the sword, but because they were exposed to the
greatest privations by the virtual blockade resulting from the extension
of the royal domination caused by her successes. This feeling found
expression in the University, which from the first pursued her with
unrelenting ferocity. Not content with having intervened to procure her
surrender to the English, it addressed letters, November 21, to Pierre
Cauchon, reproaching him with his tardiness in commencing the process,
and to the King of England, asking that the trial be held in Paris,
where there are so many learned and excellent doctors. Still Cauchon
hesitated. Doubtless when he came to consider the evidence on which he
would have to act he recognized, as irresponsible partisans could not,
how flimsy it was, and he was busy in obtaining information as to all
the points in her career--for the interrogatories showed a marvellous
familiarity with everything that could possibly be wrested against her.
Besides, there were indispensable preliminaries to be observed. His
jurisdiction arose from her capture in his diocese, but he was an exile
from it, and was expected to try her not only in another diocese, but in
another province. The archbishopric of Rouen was vacant, and he adopted
the expedient of requesting of the chapter permission to hold an
ecclesiastical court within their jurisdiction. The request was granted,
and he selected an assembly of experts to sit with him as assessors. A
number came willingly from the University, whose expenses were paid by
the English government, but it was more difficult to find accomplices
among the local prelates and doctors. In one of the early sessions,
Nicholas de Houppeland plainly told Cauchon that neither he nor the
rest, belonging to the party hostile to Joan, could sit as judges,
especially as she had already been examined by the Archbishop of Reims,
who was the metropolitan of Beauvais. For this Nicholas was imprisoned
in the Castle of Rouen, and was threatened with banishment to England
and with drowning, but his friends eventually procured his liberation.
Undoubtedly every man who sat on the tribunal had the conviction that
any leaning to the accused would expose him to English vengeance, and it
was found necessary to impose a fine on any one who should absent
himself from a single session. Eventually a respectable body of fifty or
sixty theologians and jurists was got together, including such men as
the Abbots of Fécamp, Jumièges, Ste. Catharine, Cormeilles, and Préaux,
the Prior of Longueville, the archdeacon and treasurer of Rouen, and
other men of recognized position. On January 3, 1431, royal
letters-patent were issued ordering Joan to be delivered to Pierre
Cauchon whenever she was wanted for examination, and all officials to
aid him when called upon. As though she were already convicted, the
letters recited the heresies and evil deeds of the culprit, and
significantly concluded with a clause that if she was acquitted she was
not to be liberated, but to be returned to the custody of the king. Yet
it was not until the 9th that Cauchon assembled his experts, at that
time eight in number, and laid before them what had been already done.
They decided that the informations were insufficient and that a further
inquest was necessary, and they also protested ineffectually against
Joan's detention in a state prison. Measures were at once taken to make
the investigations required. Nicholas Bailly was despatched to obtain
the details of Joan's childhood, and as he brought back only favorable
details Cauchon suppressed his report and refused to reimburse his
expenses. The inquisitorial method of making the accused betray herself
was adopted. One of the assessors, Nicholas l'Oyseleur, disguised
himself as a layman and was introduced into her cell, pretending to be a
Lorrainer imprisoned for his loyalty. He gained her confidence, and she
grew into the habit of talking to him without reserve. Then Warwick and
Cauchon with two notaries ensconced themselves in an adjoining cell of
which the partition wall had been pierced, while l'Oyseleur led her on
to talk about her visions; but the scheme failed, for one of the
notaries, unfamiliar with inquisitorial practice, pronounced the whole
proceeding to be unlawful, and courageously refused to act. Then Jean
Estivet, the prosecutor and canon of Beauvais, tried the same expedient,
but without success.[381]
It was not until February 19 that the articles of accusation were ready
for submission to the assessors, and then a new difficulty arose. Thus
far the tribunal had contained no representative of the Inquisition, and
this was recognized as a fatal defect. Frère Jean Graveran was
Inquisitor of France, and had appointed Frère Jean le Maître, in 1424,
as his vicar or deputy for Rouen. Le Maître seems to have had no stomach
for the work, and to have kept aloof, but he was not to be let off, and
at the meeting of February 19 it was resolved to summon him, in the
presence of two notaries, to take part in the proceedings and to hear
read the accusation and the depositions of witnesses. Threats are said
to have been freely employed, and his repugnance was overcome. Another
session was held in the afternoon, at which he appeared, and on being
summoned to act professed himself willing to do so, if the commission
which he held was sufficient authorization. The scruple which he alleged
was ingenious. He was Inquisitor of Rouen, but Cauchon was bishop in a
different province, and, as he was exercising jurisdiction belonging to
Beauvais in the "borrowed territory," le Maître doubted his powers to
take part in it. It was not till the 22d that his doubts were overcome,
and, while awaiting enlarged powers from Graveran, he consented to
assist, for the discharge of his conscience and to prevent the whole
proceedings from being null and void, which by common consent seems to
have been assumed would be the case if carried on without the
participation of the Inquisition. It was not until March 12 that he
received a special commission from Graveran, who declined to come
personally, after which he presided in conjunction with Cauchon;
sentence was rendered in their joint names, and he was duly paid by the
English for his services.[382]
At length, on February 21, Jean Estivet, the prosecutor, demanded that
the prisoner be produced and examined. Before she was introduced Cauchon
explained that she had earnestly begged the privilege of hearing mass,
but, in view of the crimes whereof she was accused and her wearing male
attire, he had refused. This prejudgment of the case was acquiesced in,
and Joan was brought in with fetters on her legs. Of this cruelty she
complained bitterly. Even the Templars, as we have seen, had their irons
removed before examination, but Joan was only nominally in the hands of
the court, and Cauchon accepted the responsibility for the outrage by
telling her that it was because she had repeatedly tried to escape, to
which she replied that she had a right to do so, as she had never given
her parole. Then Cauchon called up the English guard who accompanied her
and went through the farce of swearing them to watch her
strictly--apparently for the futile purpose of asserting some control
over them.[383]
It would be superfluous to follow in detail the examinations to which
she was subjected during the next three months, with an intermission
from April 18 to May 11 on account of sickness which nearly proved
mortal. The untaught peasant girl, enfeebled by the miseries of her
cruel prison, and subjected day after day to the shrewd and searching
cross-questions of the trained and subtle intellects of her carefully
selected judges, never lost her presence of mind or clearness of
intellect. Ingenious pitfalls were constructed for her, which she evaded
almost by instinct. Questions puzzling to a theologian of the schools
were showered upon her; half a dozen eager disputants would assail her
at once and would interrupt her replies; the disorder at times was so
great that the notaries finally declared themselves unable to make an
intelligent record. Her responses would be carefully scrutinized, and
she would be recalled in the afternoon, the same ground would be gone
over in a different manner, and her pursuers would again be foiled. In
the whole series of interrogatories she manifested a marvellous
combination of frank simplicity, shrewdness, presence of mind, and
firmness that would do honor to a veteran diplomat. She utterly refused
to take an unconditional oath to answer the questions put to her,
saying, frankly, "I do not know what you will ask me; perhaps it may be
about things which I will not tell you:" she agreed to reply to all
questions about her faith and matters bearing upon her trial, but to
nothing else. When Cauchon's eagerness over-stepped the limit she would
turn on him and warn him, "You call yourself my judge: I know not if you
are, but take care not to judge wrongfully, for you expose yourself to
great danger, and I warn you, so that if our Lord chastises you I shall
have done my duty." When asked whether St. Michael was naked when he
visited her, she retorted, "Do you think the Lord has not wherewith to
clothe his angels?" When describing a conversation with St. Catharine
about the result of the siege of Compiègne, some chance expression led
her examiner to imagine that he could entrap her, and he interrupted
with the question whether she had said, "Will God so wickedly let the
good folks of Compiègne perish?" but she composedly corrected him by
repeating, "What! will God let these good folks of Compiègne perish, who
have been and are so loyal to their lord?" She could hardly have known
that an attempt to escape from an ecclesiastical court was a sin of the
deepest dye, and yet when tested with the cunning question whether she
would now escape if opportunity offered, she replied that if the door
was opened she would walk out; she would try it only to see if the Lord
so willed it. When an insidious offer was made to her to have a great
procession to entreat God to bring her to the proper frame of mind, she
quietly replied that she wished all good Catholics would pray for her.
When threatened with torture, and told that the executioner was at hand
to administer it, she simply said, "If you extort avowals from me by
pain I will maintain that they are the result of violence." Thus
alternating the horrors of her dungeon with the clamors of the
examination-room, where perhaps a dozen eager questioners would bait her
at once, she never faltered through all those weary weeks.[384]
In this she was sustained by the state of habitual spiritual exaltation
resulting from the daily and nightly visions with which she was favored,
and the unalterable conviction that she was the chosen of the Lord,
under whose inspiration she acted and whose will she was prepared to
endure with resignation. In her prison her ecstatic raptures seem to
have become more frequent than ever. Her heavenly visitants came at her
call, and solved her difficulties. Frequently she refused to answer
questions until she could consult her Voices and learn whether she was
permitted to reveal what was wanted, and then, at a subsequent hearing,
she would say that she had received permission. The responses evidently
sometimes varied with her moods. She would be told that she would be
delivered with triumph, and then again be urged not to mind her
martyrdom, for she would reach paradise. When she reported this she was
cunningly asked if she felt assured of salvation, and on her saying that
she was as certain of heaven as if she was already there, she was led on
with a question whether she held that she could not commit mortal sin.
Instinctively she drew back from the dangerous ground--"I know nothing
about it; I depend on the Lord."[385]
Finally, on one important point her judges succeeded in entrapping her.
She was warned that if she had done anything contrary to the faith she
must submit herself to the determination of the Church. To her the
Church was represented by Cauchon and his tribunal; to submit to them
would be to pronounce her whole life a lie, her intercourse with saints
and angels an invocation of demons, herself a sorceress worthy of the
stake, and only to escape it through the infinite mercy of her
persecutors. She offered to submit to God and the saints, but this, she
was told, was the Church triumphant in heaven, and she must submit to
the Church militant on earth, else she was a heretic, to be inevitably
abandoned to the secular arm for burning. Taking advantage of her
ignorance, the matter was pressed upon her in the most absolute form.
When asked if she would submit to the pope she could only say, "Take me
to him and I will answer to him." At last she was brought to admit that
she would submit to the Church, provided it did not command what was
impossible; but, when asked to define the impossible, it was to abandon
doing what the Lord had commanded, and to revoke what she had asserted
as to the truth of her visions. This she would submit only to God.[386]
The examinations up to March 27 had been merely preparatory. On that day
the formal trial commenced by reading to Joan a long series of articles
of accusation based upon the information obtained. A lively debate
ensued among the experts, but at last it was decided that she must
answer them _seriatim_ and on the spot, which she did with her wonted
clearness and intrepidity, declining the offer of counsel, which Cauchon
proposed to select for her. Sundry further interrogatories followed;
then her sickness delayed the proceedings, and on May 12, twelve members
of the tribunal assembled in Pierre Cauchon's house to determine whether
she should be subjected to torture. Fortunately for the reputation of
her judges this infamy was spared her. One of them voted in favor of
torture to see whether she could be forced to submit to the Church;
another, the spy, Nicholas l'Oyseleur, humanely urged it as a useful
medicine for her; nine were of opinion either that it was not yet
required, or that the case was clear enough without it; Cauchon himself
apparently did not vote. Meanwhile a secret junto, selected by Cauchon,
had reduced the articles of accusation to twelve, which, though grossly
at variance with the truth, were assumed to have been fully proved or
confessed, and these formed the basis of the subsequent deliberations
and sentence. We have seen, in the case of Marguerite la Porete, that
the Inquisition of Paris, in place of calling an assembly of experts,
submitted to the canonists of the University a written statement of what
was assumed to be proved, and that the opinion rendered on this,
although conditioned on its being a true presentation of the case, was
equivalent to a verdict. This precedent was followed in the present
case. Copies of the articles were addressed to fifty-eight learned
experts, in addition to the Chapter of Rouen and the University of
Paris, and their opinions were requested by a certain day. Of all those
appealed to, the University was by far the most important, and a special
mission was despatched to it bearing letters from the royal council and
the Bishop of Beauvais. In view of the tendencies of the University this
might seem a superfluous precaution, and its adoption shows how slender
was the foundation on which the whole prosecution was based. The
University went through an elaborate form of deliberation, and caused
the faculties of theology and law to draw up its decision, which was
adopted May 14 and sent to Rouen.[387]
On May 19 the assessors were assembled to hear the report from the
University, after which their opinions were taken. Some were in favor of
immediate abandonment to the secular arm, which would have been strictly
in accordance with the regular inquisitorial proceedings, but probably
the violent assumption that the articles represented truthfully Joan's
admissions was too much for some of the assessors, and the milder
suggestion prevailed that Joan should have another hearing, in which the
articles should be read to her, with the decision of the University, and
that the verdict should depend upon what she should then say.
Accordingly, on May 23, she was again brought before the tribunal for
the purpose. A brief abstract of the document read to her will show,
from the triviality of many of the charges and the guilt ascribed to
them, how conviction was predetermined. The University, as usual, had
guarded itself by conditioning its decision on the basis of the articles
being fully proved, but no notice was taken of this, and Joan was
addressed as though she had confessed to the articles and had been
solemnly condemned.
I. The visions of angels and saints.--These are pronounced superstitious
and proceeding from evil and diabolical spirits.
II. The sign given to Charles of the crown brought to him by St.
Michael.--After noting her contradictions, the story is declared a lie,
and a presumptuous, seductory, and pernicious thing, derogatory to the
dignity of the angelic Church.
III. Recognizing saints and angels by their teaching and the comfort
they bring, and believing in them as firmly as in the faith of
Christ.--Her reasons have been insufficient, and her belief rash;
comparing faith in them to faith in Christ is an error of faith.
IV. Predictions of future events and recognition of persons not seen
before through the Voices.--This is superstition and divination,
presumptuous assertion, and vain boasting.
V. Wearing men's clothes and short hair, taking the sacrament while in
them, and asserting that it is by command of God.--This is blaspheming
God, despising his sacraments, transgressing the divine law, holy writ,
and canonical ordinances, wherefore, "thou savorest ill in the faith,
thou boastest vainly and art suspect of idolatry, and thou condemnest
thyself in not being willing to wear thy sex's garments and in following
the customs of the heathen and Saracen."
VI. Putting Jesus, Maria, and the sign of the cross on her letters, and
threatening that if they were not obeyed that she would show in battle
who had the best right.--"Thou art murderous and cruel, seeking effusion
of human blood, seditious, provoking to tyranny, and blaspheming God,
his commandments and revelations."
VII. Rendering her father and mother almost crazy by leaving them; also
promising Charles to restore his kingdom, and all by command of
God.--"Thou hast been wicked to thy parents, transgressing the
commandment of God to honor them. Thou hast been scandalous, blaspheming
God, erring in the faith, and hast made a rash and presumptuous promise
to thy king."
VIII. Leaping from the tower of Beaurevoir into the ditch and preferring
death to falling into the hands of the English, after the Voices had
forbidden it.--This was pusillanimity, tending to desperation and
suicide; and in saying that God had forgiven it, "thou savorest ill as
to human free-will."
IX. Saying that St. Catharine and St. Margaret had promised her paradise
if she preserved her virginity, feeling assured of it, and asserting
that if she were in mortal sin they would not visit her.--"Thou savorest
ill as to the Christian faith."
X. Saying that St. Catharine and St. Margaret spoke French and not
English because they were not of the English faction, and that, after
knowing that these Voices were for Charles, she had not loved the
Burgundians.--This is a rash blasphemy against those saints and a
transgression of the divine command to love thy neighbor.
XI. Reverencing the celestial visitants and believing them to come from
God without consulting any churchman; feeling as certain of it as of
Christ and the Passion; and refusing to reveal the sign made to Charles
without the command of God.--"Thou art an idolater, an invoker of
devils, erring in the faith, and hast rashly made an illicit oath."
XII. Refusing to obey the mandate of the Church if contrary to the
pretended command of God, and rejecting the judgment of the Church on
earth.--"Thou art schismatic, believing wrongly as to the truth and
authority of the Church, and up to the present time thou errest
perniciously in the faith of God."[388]
Maître Pierre Maurice, who read to her this extraordinary document,
proceeded to address her with an odious assumption of kindness as
"_Jehanne ma chere amie_" urging her earnestly and argumentatively to
submit herself to the judgment of the Church, without which her soul was
sure of damnation, and he had shrewd fears for her body. She answered
firmly that if the fire was lighted and the executioner ready to cast
her in the flames she would not vary from what she had already said.
Nothing remained but to cite her for the next day to receive her final
sentence.[389]
On the 24th preparations for an _auto de fé_ were completed in the
cemetery of St. Ouen. The pile was ready for lighting, and on two
scaffolds were assembled the Cardinal of Beaufort and other dignitaries,
while on a third were Pierre Cauchon, Jean le Maître, Joan, and Maître
Guillaume Erard, who preached the customary sermon. In his eloquence he
exclaimed that Charles VII. had been proved a schismatic heretic, when
Joan interrupted him, "Speak of me, but not of the king; he is a good
Christian!" She maintained her courage until the sentence of relaxation
was partly read, when she yielded to the incessant persuasion mingled
with threats and promises to which she had been exposed since the
previous night, and she signified her readiness to submit. A formula of
abjuration was read to her, and after some discussion she allowed her
hand to be guided in scratching the sign of the cross, which represented
her signature. Then another sentence, prepared in advance, was
pronounced, imposing on her, as a matter of course, the customary
penance of perpetual imprisonment on bread and water. Vainly she begged
for an ecclesiastical prison. Had Cauchon wished it he was powerless,
and he ordered the guards to conduct her back whence she came.[390]
The English were naturally furious on finding that they had overreached
themselves. They could have tried Joan summarily in a secular court for
sorcery and burned her out of hand, but to obtain possession of her
they had been obliged to call in the ecclesiastical authorities and the
Inquisition, and they were too little familiar with trials for heresy to
recognize that inquisitorial proceedings were based on the assumption of
seeking the salvation of the soul and not the destruction of the body.
When they saw how the affair was going a great commotion arose at what
they inevitably regarded as a mockery. Joan's death was a political
necessity, and their victim was eluding them though in their grasp. In
spite of the servility which the ecclesiastics had shown, they were
threatened with drawn swords and were glad to leave the cemetery of St.
Ouen in safety.[391]
In the afternoon Jean le Maître and some of the assessors visited her in
her cell, representing the mercy of the Church and the gratitude with
which she should receive her sentence, and warning her to abandon her
revelations and follies, for if she relapsed she could have no hope. She
was humbled, and when urged to wear female apparel she assented. It was
brought and she put it on; her male garments were placed in a bag and
left in her cell.[392]
What followed will never be accurately known. The reports are
untrustworthy and contradictory--mere surmises, doubtless--and the
secret lies buried in the dungeon of Rouen Castle. The brutal guards,
enraged at her escape from the flames, no doubt abused her shamefully;
perhaps, as reported, they beat her, dragged her by the hair, and
offered violence to her, till at last she felt that her man's dress was
her only safety. Perhaps, as other stories go, her Voices reproached her
for her weakness, and she deliberately resumed it. Perhaps, also,
Warwick, resolved to make her commit an act of relapse, had her female
garments removed at night, so that she had no choice but to resume her
male apparel. The fact that it was left within her reach and not
conveyed away shows at least that there was a desire to tempt her to
resume it. Be this as it may, after wearing her woman's dress for two or
three days word was brought to her judges that she had relapsed and
abandoned it. On May 28 they hastened to her prison to verify the fact.
The incoherence of her replies to their examination shows how she was
breaking down under the fearful stress to which she had been subjected.
First she merely said that she had taken the dress; then that it was
more suitable since she was to be with men; nobody had compelled her,
but she denied that she had sworn not to resume it. Then she said that
she had taken it because faith had not been kept with her--she had been
promised that she should hear mass and receive the sacrament, and be
released from her chains; she would rather die than be kept in
fetters--could she hear mass and be relieved of her irons she would do
all that the Church required. She had heard the Voices since her
abjuration, and had been told that she had incurred damnation by
revoking to save her life, for she had only revoked through dread of the
fire. The Voices are of St. Catharine and St. Margaret, and come from
God: she had never revoked that, or, if she had, it was contrary to
truth. She had rather die than endure the torture of her captivity, but
if her judges wish she will resume the woman's dress; as for the rest
she knows nothing more.[393]
These rambling contradictions, these hopeless ejaculations of remorse
and despair, so different from her former intrepid self-confidence, show
that the jailers had understood their work, and that body and soul had
endured more than they could bear. It was enough for the judges; she was
a self-confessed relapsed, with whom the Church could have nothing more
to do except to declare her abandoned to the secular arm without further
hearing. Accordingly, the next day, May 29, Cauchon assembled such of
his assessors as were at hand, reported to them how she had relapsed by
resuming male apparel and declaring, through the suggestion of the
devil, that her Voices had returned. There could be no question as to
her deserts. She was a relapsed, and the only discussion was on the
purely formal question, whether her abjuration should be read over to
her before her judges abandoned her to the secular arm. A majority of
the assessors were in favor of this, but Cauchon and le Maître
disregarded the recommendation.[394]
At dawn on the following day, May 30, Frère Martin l'Advenu and some
other ecclesiastics were sent to her prison to inform her of her
burning that morning. She was overcome with terror, threw herself on the
ground, tore her hair and uttered piercing shrieks, declaring, as she
grew calmer, that it would not have happened had she been placed in an
ecclesiastical prison, which was an admission that only the brutality of
her dungeon had led her to revoke her abjuration. She confessed to
l'Advenu and asked for the sacrament. He was puzzled and sent for
instructions to Cauchon, who gave permission, and it was brought to her
with all due solemnity. It has been mistakenly argued that this was an
admission of her innocence, but the sacrament was never to be denied to
a relapsed who asked for it at the last moment, the mere asking,
preceded by confession, being an evidence of contrition and desire for
reunion to the Church.[395]
The platform for the sermon and the pile for the execution had been
erected in the Viel Marché. Thither she was conveyed amid a surging
crowd which blocked the streets. It is related that on the way Nicholas
l'Oyseleur, the wretched spy, pierced the crowd and the guards and
leaped upon the tumbril to entreat her forgiveness, but before she could
grant it the English dragged him off and would have slain him had not
Warwick rescued him and sent him out of Rouen to save his life. On the
platform Nicholas Midi preached his sermon, the sentence of relaxation
was read, and Joan was handed over to the secular authorities. Cauchon,
le Maître, and the rest left the platform, and the Bailli of Rouen took
her and briefly ordered her to be carried to the place of execution and
burned. It has been assumed that there was an informality in not having
her sentenced by a secular court, but this, as we have seen, was
unnecessary, especially in the case of a relapsed. On her head was
placed a high paper crown inscribed "Heretic, Relapsed, Apostate,
Idolater," and she was carried to the stake. One account states that her
shrieks and lamentations moved the crowd to tears of pity; another that
she was resigned and composed, and that her last utterance was a prayer.
When her clothes were burned off the blazing fagots were dragged aside,
that the crowd might see, from her blackened corpse, that she really was
a woman, and when their curiosity was satisfied the incineration was
completed, the ashes being thrown into the Seine.[396]
It only remained for those who had taken part in the tragedy to justify
themselves by blackening the character of their victim and circulating
false reports as to the proceedings. That the judges felt that, in spite
of sheltering themselves behind the University of Paris, they had
incurred dangerous responsibility is shown by their obtaining royal
letters shielding them from accountability for what they had done, the
king pledging himself to constitute himself a party in any prosecution
which might be brought against them before a general council or the
pope. That the regency felt that justification was needed in the face of
Europe is seen in the letters which were sent to the sovereigns and the
bishops in the name of Henry VI., explaining how Joan had exercised
inhuman cruelties until the divine power had in pity to the suffering
people caused her capture; how, though she could have been punished by
the secular courts for her crimes, she had been handed to the Church,
which had treated her kindly and benignantly, and on her confession had
mercifully imposed on her the penance of imprisonment; how her pride had
burst forth in pestilential flames, and she had relapsed into her errors
and madness; how she had then been abandoned to the secular arm, and,
finding her end approaching, had confessed that the spirits which she
invoked were false and lying, and that she was deceived and mocked by
them, and how she had finally been burned in sight of the people. This
official lying was outdone by the reports which were industriously
circulated about her and her trial. The honest Bourgeois of Paris, in
entering her execution in his journal, details the offences for which
she was condemned, mixing up with the real articles others showing the
exaggerations which were industriously circulated. According to him she
habitually rode armed with a great staff with which she cruelly beat her
people when they displeased her, and in many places she pitilessly slew
men and women who disobeyed her; once, when violence was offered her,
she leaped from the top of a lofty tower without injury, and boasted
that, if she chose, she could bring thunder and other marvels. He
admits, however, that even in Rouen there were many who held her to be
martyred for her lawful lord.[397] It evidently was felt that in her
dreadful death she had fitly crowned her career, and that sympathy for
her fate was continuing her work by arousing popular sentiment, for,
more than a month later, on July 4, an effort was made to counteract it
by a sermon preached in Paris by a Dominican inquisitor--probably our
friend Jean le Maître himself. At great length he expatiated on her
deeds of wickedness, and the mercy which had been shown her. She had
confessed that from the age of fourteen she had dressed like a man, and
her parents would have killed her could they have done so without
wounding their consciences. She had therefore left them, accompanied by
the devil, and had thenceforth lived by the homicide of Christians, full
of fire and blood, till she was burned. She recanted and abjured, and
would have had as penance four years' prison on bread and water, but she
did not suffer this a single day, for she had herself served in prison
like a lady. The devil appeared to her with two demons, fearing greatly
that he would lose her, and said to her, "Wicked creature, who through
fear hast abandoned thy dress, be not afraid, for we will protect thee
from all." Then at once she disrobed and dressed herself in her male
attire, which she had thrust in the straw of her bed, and she so trusted
in Satan that she said she repented of having abandoned it. Then,
seeing that she was obstinate, the masters of the University delivered
her to the secular arm to be burned, and when she saw herself in this
strait she called on the devils, but after she was judged she could not
bring them by any invocation. She then thought better of it, but it was
too late. The reverend orator added that there were four of them, of
whom we have caught three, this Pucelle, and Péronne and her companion,
and one who is with the Armagnacs, named Catharine de la Rochelle, who
says that when the host is consecrated she sees wonders of the highest
secrets of the Lord.[398]
This last allusion is to certain imitators of Joan. The impression which
she produced on the popular mind inevitably led to imitation, whether
through imposture or genuine belief. The Péronne referred to was an old
woman of Britanny who, with a companion, was captured at Corbeil, in
March, 1430, and brought to Paris. She not only asserted that Joan was
inspired, but swore that God often appeared to her in human form, with a
white robe and vermilion cape, ordering her to assist Joan, and she
admitted having received the sacrament twice in one day--Frère Richard
being the person who had given it to her at Jargeau. The two were tried
by the University; the younger woman recanted, but Péronne was
obstinate, and was burned September 3. Catharine de la Rochelle was
another of the _protegées_ of the impressionable Frère Richard, who was
much provoked with Joan for refusing to countenance her. She came to
Joan at Jargeau and again at Montfaucon in Berri, saying that every
night there appeared to her a white woman clad in cloth-of-gold, telling
her that the king would give her horses and trumpets, and she would go
through the cities proclaiming that all who had money or treasure should
bring it forth to pay Joan's men, and if they concealed it she would
discover all that was hidden. Joan's practical sense was not to be
allured by this proposition. She told Catharine to go home to her
husband and children, and on asking counsel of her Voices was told that
it was all folly and falsehood. Still, she wrote to the king on the
subject and accepted Catharine's offer to exhibit to her the nightly
visitant. The first night Joan fell asleep and was told on waking that
the apparition had shown itself during her slumber. Then she took a
precautionary sleep during the day, and lay awake all night without
seeing the white lady. Catharine was probably an impostor rather than an
enthusiast, and seems to have escaped the Inquisition.[399]
During Joan's imprisonment her place for a time was taken by a peasant,
variously known as Pastourel or Guillaume le Berger, who professed to
have had divine revelations ordering him to take up arms in aid of the
royal cause. He demonstrated the truth of his mission by exhibiting
stigmata on hands, side, and feet, like St. Francis, and commanded wide
belief. Pothon de Xaintrailles, Joan's old companion-in-arms, placed
confidence in him and carried him along in his adventurous forays.
Guillaume's career, however, was short. He accompanied an expedition
into Normandy under the lead of the Maréchal de Boussac and Pothon,
which was surprised and scattered by Warwick. Pothon and the shepherd
were both captured and carried in triumph to Rouen. Experience of
inquisitorial delays in the case of Joan probably caused the English to
prefer more summary methods, and the unlucky prophet was tossed into the
Seine and drowned without a trial. His sphere of influence had been too
limited to render him worth making a conspicuous example.[400]
* * * * *
Thus Joan passed away, but the spirit which she had aroused was beyond
the reach of bishop or inquisitor. Her judicial murder was a useless
crime. The Treaty of Arras, in 1435, withdrew Burgundy from the English
alliance, and one by one the conquests of Henry V. were wrenched from
the feeble grasp of his son. When, in 1449, Charles VII. obtained
possession of Rouen he ordered an inquest on the spot into the
circumstances of her trial, for it ill comported with the dignity of a
King of France to owe his throne to a witch condemned and burned by the
Church. The time had not come, however, when a sentence of the
Inquisition could be set aside by secular authority, and the attempt was
abandoned. In 1452 another effort was made by Archbishop d'Estouteville
of Rouen, but though he was a cardinal and a papal legate, and though he
adjoined in the matter Jean Brehal, Inquisitor of France, he could do
nothing beyond taking some testimony. The papal intervention was held to
be necessary for the revision of a case of heresy decided by the
Inquisition, and to obtain this the mother and the two brothers of Joan
appealed to Rome as sufferers from the sentence. At length, in 1455,
Calixtus III. appointed as commissioners to hear and judge their
complaints the Archbishop of Rouen, the Bishops of Paris and Coutances,
and the Inquisitor Jean Brehal. Isabelle Darc and her sons appeared as
plaintiffs against Cauchon and le Maître, and the proceedings were
carried on at their expense. Cauchon was dead and le Maître in
hiding--concealed probably by his Dominican brethren, for no trace of
him could be found. Although the University of Paris does not appear in
the case, every precaution was taken to preserve its honor by
emphasizing at every stage the fraudulent character of the twelve
articles submitted to its decision, and in the final judgment special
care was taken to characterize them as false and to order them to be
judicially torn to pieces, though it may well be doubted whether they
were any more deceptive than innumerable reports made habitually by
inquisitors to their assemblies of experts. Finally, on July 7, 1456,
judgment was rendered in favor of the complainants, who were declared to
have incurred no infamy; the whole process was pronounced to be null and
void; the decision was ordered to be published in Rouen and all other
cities of the kingdom; solemn processions were to be made to the place
of her abjuration and that of her execution, and on the latter a cross
was to be erected in perpetual memory of her martyrdom. In its restored
form it still remains there as a memorial of the utility of the
Inquisition as an instrument of statecraft.[401]