A Heroine of France: The Story of Joan of Arc

by Evelyn Everett-Green

  CHAPTER II. HOW I FIRST SAW THE MAID.

  I did not forget my desire to see this maiden of Domremy, nor didBertrand, I trow, forget the promise, albeit some days passed byere we put our plan into action.

  Bad news kept coming in to the little loyal township ofVaucouleurs. There was no manner of doubt but that the EnglishRegent, Bedford, was resolved to lose no more time, but seek to putbeneath his iron heel the whole of the realm of France. Gascony hadbeen English so long that the people could remember nothingdifferent than the rule of the Roy Outremer--as of old they calledhim. Now all France north of the Loire owned the same sway, and asall men know, the Duke of Burgundy was ally to the English, andhated the Dauphin with a deadly hatred, for the murder of hisfather--for which no man can justly blame him. True, his love forthe English had cooled manifestly since that affair of DukeHumphrey of Gloucester and Jacquelaine of Brabant, in which as wasnatural, he took the part of his brother; but although the Duke ofBedford was highly indignant with Duke Humphrey, and gave him nomanner of support in his rash expedition, yet the Duke of Burgundyresented upon the English what had been done, and although it didnot drive him into the arms of the Dauphin, whom he hated worse, itloosened the bond between him and our foes, and we had hoped itmight bring about a better state of things for our party. Yetalas!--this seemed as far as ever from being so; and the Burgundiansoldiers still ravaged along our borders, and it seemed ofttimes asthough we little loyal community of the Duchy of Bar would beswallowed up altogether betwixt the two encroaching foes. So ourhearts were often heavy and our faces grave with fear.

  I noted in the manner of the Governor, whose guest I had nowbecome, a great gravity, which in old days had not been there; forRobert de Baudricourt, as I remembered him, had ever been a man ofmerry mood, with a great laugh, a ready jest, and that sort ofrough, bluff courage that makes light of trouble and peril.

  Now, however, we often saw him sunk in some deep reverie, his chinupon his hand, his eyes gazing full into the blaze of the leapingfire of logs, which always flamed upon the hearth in the greathall, where the most part of his time was spent. He would gohunting or hawking by day, or ride hither and thither through thetown, looking into matters there, or sit to listen to the affairsof the citizens or soldiers as they were brought before him; and atsuch times his manner would be much as it had ever been ofyore--quick, almost rough, yet not unkindly--whilst the shrewdjustice he always meted out won the respect of the people, and madehim a favourite in the town.

  But when the evening fell, and the day's work was done, and aftersupper we sat in the hall, with the dogs slumbering around us,talking of any news which might have come in, either of raids bythe roving Burgundians, or the advance of the English towardsOrleans, then these darker moods would fall upon him; and once whenhe had sat for well-nigh an hour without moving, his brow drawn andfurrowed, and his eyes seemingly sunk deeper in his head, Bertrandleaned towards me and whispered in mine ear:

  "He is thinking of the Maid of Domremy!"

  De Baudricourt could not have heard the words, yet when he spoke abrief while later, it almost seemed as though he might have doneso.

  "Nephew," he said, lifting his head abruptly and gazing across atus, "tell me again the words of that prophecy of Merlin's, spokenlong, long ago, of which men whisper in these days, and of whichyou did speak to me awhile back."

  "Marry, good mine uncle, the prophecy runs thus," answeredBertrand, rising and crossing over towards the great fire beforewhich his kinsman sat, "'That France should be destroyed by thewiles of a woman, and saved and redeemed by a maiden.'"

  The bushy brows met in a fierce scowl over the burning eyes; hiswords came in a great burst of indignation and scorn.

  "Ay, truly--he spake truly--the wise man--the wizard! A woman to bethe ruin of the kingdom! Ay, verily, and has it not been so? Whobut that wicked Queen Isabeau is at the bottom of the disgracefulTreaty of Troyes, wherein France sold herself into the hands of theEnglish? Did she not repudiate her own son? Did not her hatred burnso fiercely against him that she was ready to tarnish her own goodfame and declare him illegitimate, rather than that he shouldsucceed his father as King of France? Did she not give her daughterto the English King in wedlock, that their child might reign overthis fair realm? Truly has the kingdom been destroyed by the wilesof a woman! But I vow it will take more than the strength of anymaiden to save and redeem it from the woes beneath which it liescrushed!"

  "In sooth it doth seem so," answered Bertrand with grave andearnest countenance, "but yet with the good God nothing isimpossible. Hath He not said before this that He doth take of themean and humble to confound the great of the earth? Did not thethree hundred with Gideon overcome the hosts of the Moabites? Didnot the cake of barley bread overturn the tent and the camp of thefoe?"

  "Ay, if the good God will arise to work miracles again, such thingsmight be; but how can we look for Him to do so? What manner of manis the Dauphin of France that he should look for divinedeliverance? 'God helps those who help themselves,' so says theproverb; but what of those who lie sunk in lethargy or despair, andseek to drown thought or care in folly and riotous living--heedlessof the ruin of the realm?"

  "There is another proverb, good mine uncle, that tells how man'sextremity is God's opportunity," quoth Bertrand thoughtfully; "ifwe did judge of God's mercy by man's worthiness to receive thesame, we might well sink in despair. But His power and His goodnessare not limited by our infirmities, and therein alone lies ourhope."

  De Baudricourt uttered a sound between a snort and a grunt. I knewnot what he thought of Bertrand's answer; but that brief dialoguearoused within me afresh the desire I had before expressed to seethe maid, Jeanne of Domremy; and as the sun upon the morrow shoneout bright and clear, after a week of heavy rain storms, we agreedthat no better opportunity could we hope for to ride across to thelittle village, and try whether it were possible to obtain speechwith the young girl about whom such interest had been aroused insome breasts.

  We spoke no word to De Baudricourt of our intention. Bertrand knewfrom his manner that he was thinking more and more earnestly ofthat declaration on the part of the village maiden that herLord--the King of Heaven--had revealed to her that she must be sentto the Dauphin, to help him to drive out the English from hiscountry, and to place the crown of France upon his head, and thathe, Robert de Baudricourt, was the instrument who would be used tospeed her on her way. Bertrand knew that this thought was weighingupon the mind of his kinsman, and the more so as the time for thefulfilment of the prophecy drew nearer.

  Autumn had come. Winter was hard at hand; and before Mid-Lent thepromised succour to France was to arrive through the means of thismaiden--this Jeanne d'Arc.

  "He is waiting and watching," spoke Bertrand, as we rode throughthe forest, the thinning leaves of which allowed the sunlight toplay merrily upon our path. "He says in his heart that if thisthing be of God, the Maid will come again when the time draws near;but that if it is phantasy, or if she be deluded of the Devil,perchance his backwardness will put a check upon her ardour, and weshall hear no more of it. The Abbe Perigord, his Confessor, hasbidden him beware lest it be a snare of the Evil One"--and as hespoke these words Bertrand crossed himself, and I did the like, forthe forest is an ill place in which to talk of the Devil, as allmen know.

  "But for my part, when I think upon her words, and see again thelook of her young face, I cannot believe that she has been thusdeceived; albeit we are told that the Devil can make himself appearas an angel of light."

  This was the puzzle, of course. But surely the Church had power todiscern betwixt the wiles of the Evil One and the finger of God.There were words and signs which any possessed of the Devil mustneeds fly before. I could not think that the Church need feardeception, even though a village maid might be deceived.

  The forest was very beautiful that day, albeit travelling wassomething slow, owing to the softness of the ground, and theswollen condition of the brooks, which often forced us to go roundby the bridges instead
of taking the fords; so that we halted a fewmiles from Domremy to bait our horses and to appease our ownhunger, for by that time our appetite was sharp set.

  It was there, as we sat at table, and talked with mine host, thatwe heard somewhat more of this Maid, whom we had started forth inhopes to see.

  Bertrand was known for the kinsman of De Baudricourt and all thecountryside knew well the tale, how that Jeanne d'Arc had gone tohim in the springtide of the year, demanding an escort to theDauphin King of France, for whom she had a message from the King ofHeaven, and whom she was to set upon his throne.

  "When she came home again, having accomplished nothing," spoke theinnkeeper, leaning his hands upon the table and greatly enjoyingthe sound of his own voice, "all the village made great mock ofher! They called her the King's Marshal, the Little Queen, Jeannethe Prophetess, and I know not what beside. Her father was rightwroth with her. Long ago he had a dream about her, which troubledhim somewhat, as he seemed to see his daughter in the midst offighting men, leading them on to battle."

  "Did he dream that? Surely that is something strange for the visionof a village prud'homme anent his little daughter."

  "Ay truly, though at the time he thought little of it, but when allthis came to pass he recalled it again; and he smote Jeanne uponthe ear with his open hand, and bid her return to her needle andher household tasks, and think no more of matters too great forher. Moreover, he declared that if ever she were to disgraceherself by mingling with men-at-arms, he would call upon herbrothers to drown her, and if they disobeyed him, he would take anddo it with his own hands!"

  "A Spartan father, truly!" murmured Bertrand.

  "O ay--but he is a very honest man, is Jacques d'Arc; and he wasvery wroth at all the talk about his daughter, and he vowed sheshould wed an honest man, as she is now of age to do, and so forgether dreams and her visions, and take care of her house and herhusband and the children the good God should send them--like otherwedded wives."

  "Then has she indeed wedded?" asked Bertrand earnestly.

  "Ah, that is another story!" answered our host, wagging his headand spreading out his hands. "It would take too long were I to tellyou all, messires; but so much will I tell. They did find a man whohad long desired the pretty Jeanne for his wife, and he didforswear himself and vow that he had been betrothed to Jeanne withher own free will and consent, and that now he claimed her as hiswife. Jeanne, whose courage is high, though she be so quiet andmodest in her daily life, did vehemently deny the charge, whereuponthe angry father and his friend, the claimant of her hand, didbring it into the court, and the Maid had to defend herself therefrom the accusation of broken faith. But by St. Michael and all hisangels!--how she did confound them all! She asked no help fromlawyers, though one did offer himself to her. She called nowitnesses herself; but she questioned the witnesses brought againsther, and also the man who would fain have become her lord, and outof their own mouths did she convict them of lying and hypocrisy andconspiracy, so that she was triumphantly acquitted, and her judgescalled her a most wonderful child, and told her mother to be proudof such a daughter!"

  I saw a flush rise to Bertrand's cheek, a flush as of pride andjoy. And indeed, I myself rejoiced to hear the end of the tale; forit did seem as though this maiden had been persecuted with rancourand injustice, and that is a thing which no man can quietly endureto hear or see.

  "And how have they of Domremy behaved themselves to her since?" Iasked; and Bertrand listened eagerly for the answer.

  "Oh, they have taken her to favour once more; her father has beenkind again; her mother ever loved Jeanne much, for her gentlenessand beauty and helpfulness at home. All the people love her, whennot stirred to mockery by such fine pretensions. If she will remainquietly at home like a wise and discreet maiden, no one will longremember against her her foolish words and dreams."

  As we rode through the fields and woodlands towards Domremy, thelight began to take the golden hue which it does upon the autumnafternoon, and upon that day it shone with a wonderful radiancesuch as is not uncommon after rain. We were later than we hadmeant, but there would be a moon to light us when the sun sank, andboth we and our horses knew the roads well; or we could even sleep,if we were so minded, at the auberge where we had dined. So we werein no haste or hurry. We picked our way leisurely towards thevillage, and Bertrand told me of the Fairy Well and the Fairy Treein the forest hard by, so beloved of the children of Domremy, andof which so much has been heard of late, though at that time I knewnothing of any such things.

  But fairy lore has ever a charm for me, and I bid him show me thesesame things. So we turned a little aside into the forest, and foundourselves in a lovely glade, where the light shone so soft andgolden, and where the songs of the birds sounded so sweet andmelodious, that I felt as though we were stepping through anenchanted world, and well could I believe that the fairies dancedaround the well, sunk deep in its mossy dell, and fringed aboutwith ferns and flowers and the shade of drooping trees.

  But fairies there were none visible to our eyes, and we movedsoftly onwards towards the spreading tree hard by. But ere wereached it, we both drew rein as by a common impulse, for we hadseen a sight which arrested and held us spellbound, ay, and morethan that, for the wonder and amaze of it fell also upon the horseswe bestrode. For scarcely had we drawn rein, before they both beganto tremble and to sweat, and stood with their forefeet planted,their necks outstretched, their nostrils distended; uttering short,gasping, snorting sounds, as a horse will do when overcome by someterror. But for all this they were as rigid as if they had beencarved in stone.

  And now, what did we see? Let me try and tell, so far as my poorwords may avail. Beneath a spreading tree just a stone's throw tothe right of where we stood, and with nothing between to hinder ourview of her, a peasant maiden, dressed in the white coif, redskirt, and jacket and kerchief of her class, had been bending oversome fine embroidery which she held in her hands. We just caught aglimpse of her thus before the strange thing happened which causedus to stop short, as though some power from without restrained us.

  Hard by, as I know now, stood the village, shut out from view bythe trees, with its little church, and the homestead of Jacquesd'Arc nestling almost within its shadow. At the moment of which Ispeak the bell rang forth for the Angelus, with a full, sweet toneof silvery melody; and at the very same instant the work droppedfrom the girl's hands, and she sank upon her knees. At the firstmoment, although instinctively, we reined back our horses anduncovered our heads, I had no thought but that she was a devoutmaiden following the office of the Church out here in the wood. Butas she turned her upraised face a little towards us, I saw upon itsuch a look as I have never seen on human countenance before, norhave ever seen (save upon hers) since. A light seemed to shineeither from it or upon it--how can I tell which?--a light so pureand heavenly that no words can fully describe it, but which seemedlike the radiance of heaven itself. Her eyes were raised towardsthe sky, her lips parted, and through the breathless hush ofsilence which had fallen upon the wood, we heard the soft, sweettones of her voice.

  "Speak, my Lord--Thy servant heareth!"

  It was then that our horses showed the signs of terror of which Ihave before spoken. For myself, I saw nothing save the shining faceof the Maid--I knew who it was--there was no need for Bertrand'sbreathless whisper--"It is she--herself!"--I knew it in my heartbefore.

  She knelt there amid the fallen leaves, her face raised, her lipsparted, her eyes shining as surely never human eyes have shonebefore. A deep strange hush had fallen over all nature, broken onlyby the gentle music of the bell. The ruddy gold light ofapproaching sunset bathed all the wood in glory, and the rays fellupon the kneeling figure, forming a halo of glory round it. But shedid not heed, she did not see. She was as one in a trance,insensible to outward vision. Once and again her lips moved, but weheard no word proceed from them, only the rapt look upon her faceincreased in intensity, and once I thought (for I could not turn mygaze away) that I saw the gleam of tears in her eyes
.

  The bell ceased as we stood thus motionless, and as the last notevibrated through the still air, a change came over the Maid. Herhead drooped, she hid her face in her hands, and thus she knelt asone absorbed in an intensity of prayer. Even as this happened, thepeculiar glory of the sunlight seemed to change. It shone still,but without such wonderful glow, and our horses at the same timeceased their trembling and their rigid stillness of pose. Theyshook their heads and jingled their bits, as though striving tothrow off some terrifying impression.

  "Let us withdraw from her sight," whispered Bertrand touching myarm, and very willingly I acceded to this suggestion, and wesilently pressed into the shadow of some great oaks, which stoodhard by, the trunks of which hid us well from view. It seemedalmost like a species of sacrilege to stand there watching the Maidat her prayers, and yet I vow, that until the bell ceased we had nomore power to move than our horses. Why we were holden by thisstrange spell I know not. I can only speak the truth. We sawnothing and we heard nothing of any miraculous kind, and yet wewere like men in a dream, bound hand and foot by invisible bonds, awitness of something unseen to ourselves, which we saw was visibleto another.

  Beneath the deep shadow of the oaks we looked back. The Maid hadrisen to her feet by this, and was stooping to pick up her fallenwork. That done, she stood awhile in deep thought, her face turnedtowards the little church, whence the bell had only just ceased tosound.

  I saw her clearly then--a maiden slim and tall, so slender that therather clumsy peasant dress she wore could not give breadth orawkwardness to her lithe figure. The coif had slipped a little outof place, and some tresses of waving hair had escaped from beneathit, tresses that looked dark till the sun touched them, and thenglowed like burnished gold. Her face was pale, with features in noway marked, but so sweet and serene was the expression of the face,so wonderful was the depth of the great dark eyes, that one waslost in admiration of her beauty, albeit unable to define whereinthat beauty lay.

  When we started forth, I had meant to try and seek speech with thisJeanne--this Maid of Domremy--and to ask her of her mission, andwhether she were still believing that she would have power to carryit out; but this purpose now died within me.

  How could I dare question such a being as to her visions? Had I notseen how she was visited by sound or sight not sensible to thosearound her? Had I not in some sort been witness to a miracle? Wasit for us to approach and ask of her what had been thus revealed?No!--a thousand times no! If the good God had given her a message,she would know when and where to deliver it. She had spoken beforeof her voices. Let them instruct her. Let not men seek tointerfere. And so we remained where we were, hidden in the deepshadows, whilst Jeanne, with bent head and lingering, gracefulsteps, utterly unconscious of the eyes that watched her, wentslowly out of sight along the glade leading towards the village andher home.

  Only when she had disappeared did we venture to move on in herwake, and so passed by the low-browed house, set in its well-tendedlittle garden, where the d'Arc family lived. It lay close to thechurch, and bore a look of pleasant homelike comfort. We saw Jeannebending tenderly over a chair, in which reclined the bent form of alittle crippled sister. We even heard the soft, sweet voice of theMaid, as she answered some question asked her from within the opendoor. Then she lifted the bent form in her arms, and I did note howstrong that slim frame must be, for the burden seemed as nothing toher as she bore it within the house; and then she disappeared fromview, and we rode onwards together.

  "There, my friend," spoke Bertrand at last, "I have kept mypromise, you have seen the Maid."

  "Yes," I answered gravely, "I have seen the Maid," and after thatwe spoke no word for many a mile.