As the interrogatories proceeded, the charges which the prosecutors had in mind appear more and more clearly. We give here a complete calendar of the sessions, with Joan’s principal answers, answers which, after five centuries, still fill us with admiration.
She first appeared before her judges on Wednesday, February 21st. It was at this first session that Cauchon adjured her to swear to tell the truth, and that Joan avoided the oath, saying that there were certain matters touching which she would not swear. She agreed to take the oath concerning anything to do with her father, mother, place of birth and incidents of her childhood, but not in the matter of her revelations. She made this reservation expressly, and she was never to go back on it.
CAUCHON: Swear to speak the truth with your hand on the Holy Evangels in all matters on which you will be questioned.
JOAN: I do not know on what you will question me. It may happen that you will ask me a thing which I shall not tell you.
CAUCHON: You will swear to speak the truth on what will be asked you concerning matters of faith and what you will know.*
JOAN: Of my father, of my mother, of all that I have done since I arrived in France, I will willingly swear; but the revelations made to me by God, I have not told nor revealed to anybody excepting only to Charles, my King, and I shall not reveal them though it cost me my head. I have had that by my visions and by my secret counsel, to reveal them to nobody. In the next eight days I shall know well whether I am to reveal them.
CAUCHON: Swear to tell the truth in everything touching our faith.
It was at this point, as we have said above, that Joan took the oath while maintaining that reservation in the matter of her revelations. She then complained about being kept in irons, to which Cauchon replied that it was to prevent an escape and to guard her more securely that orders had been given to keep her in irons.
JOAN: It is true that formerly I tried to escape from prison as it is licit for any prisoner to do. Even if I could escape I could not be reproached with having falsified or violated my word, for I have never given it to anybody.
At this the bishop made her three gaolers, John Grey, John Bernard and William Talbot, swear to guard her safely and in secret—that is to let nobody come near her. Which oath they took with their hands on a prayer-book. Another argument with the Bishop of Beauvais interrupted this session of questioning, in which Joan showed her mettle, proving that she was quite able to confound more than one kind of adversary.
CAUCHON: Recite Pater Noster and Ave Maria.
JOAN: I will say them willingly provided you hear my confession.
Cauchon, as may be imagined, dodged this request for, had he granted it, as a priest it would have put him in a very awkward situation. If he heard Joan’s confession he would, thereafter, be prevented on his soul and conscience from declaring her guilty; on the other hand to refuse to hear her confession was to avoid doing his sacerdotal duty. The minutes of the trial mention that the bishop was obliged to admonish her “several times” and that in the end he attempted a compromise solution.
CAUCHON: Willingly will we order appointed for you one or two notable men who speak French to whom you can say Pater Noster.
JOAN: I shall not say it to them if they will not hear me in confession.
They were forced to drop the point and pass to the next subject.
Thursday, February 22nd
The second session was held on February 22nd and Master Jean Beaupère was appointed to undertake the questioning. His questions dealt chiefly with Joan’s voices and with an account of the events which occurred at Vaucouleurs. This was after Cauchon had tried in vain to get the accused to take a more complete oath than she had taken the day before.
BEAUPÈRE: Are you going to speak the truth?
JOAN: You may well ask me some thing concerning which I will answer you the truth and to another I shall not answer. If you were well informed about me, you ought to wish that I were out of your hands. I have done nothing excepting by revelation.
Saturday, February 24th
On this day Cauchon again tried to get from her an oath free from reservations. Three times he required this of her: these were her answers:
JOAN: By my faith, you might ask me a thing that I would not tell you. . . .
JOAN: It may happen that on many things which you might ask me, I would not tell you the truth touching my revelations, for perhaps you would force me to say a thing which I have sworn not to tell and thus would I be foresworn, which you ought not to wish. And me, I tell you, consider well ere you call yourself my judge, for you are assuming a great charge, and you charge me too heavily. I have twice sworn in judgment and that is enough.
Questions and answers followed in the matter of this oath which Joan would not take.
JOAN: I will willingly tell anything I shall know and (but) not all. I am come by God’s will and have nothing to do here, and demand that I be sent back to God from whom I am come.
On that day more than half the session was given up to this question of the oath, Joan remaining unshakable. After that Beaupère questioned her, notably about her voices.
BEAUPÈRE: Since what time have you neither eaten nor drunk?
JOAN: Since yesterday afternoon.
BEAUPÈRE: Since when have you heard your voice?
JOAN: I heard it yesterday and to-day.
BEAUPÈRE: At what time did you hear it?
JOAN: I heard it three times, one in the morning, one at the hour of vespers, and the third time when they were ringing the evening Ave Maria. And still have I heard it more often than I say.
BEAUPÈRE: What were you doing yesterday morning when the voice came to you?
JOAN: I slept and the voice awoke me.
BEAUPÈRE: Did the voice wake you by touching your arm?
JOAN: I was awoken by the voice without touch.
BEAUPÈRE: The voice, was it in your chamber?
JOAN: Not that I know, but it was in the castle.
BEAUPÈRE: Did you thank this voice and do you go down on your knees?
JOAN: I thanked it by rising and by sitting down on my bed and I clasped my hands and after that I asked it to come to my aid. The voice told me to answer boldly . . . (turning towards the bishop) you say that you are my judge. Consider well what you are about, for in truth I am sent from God, and you are putting yourself in great danger.
BEAUPÈRE: Has this voice sometimes changed its mind? (Changé sa déliberation.)
JOAN: Never have I found it of two contrary minds. . . . (Lit: of two contrary sayings.)
BEAUPÈRE: This voice which you say appears to you, is it an angel or does it come immediately (i.e., directly) from God, or is it the voice of some saint?
JOAN: This voice comes from God and I think I (shall) tell you not fully what I know; and I have a greater fear of being at fault by saying something which displeases these voices than I have of (not) answering you.
BEAUPÈRE: Do you believe that it displeases God that the truth be told?
JOAN: The voices have told me that I should say a thing to the King and not to you. This very night it has (sic) said to me many things for the good of my King, that I would my King might now know, though I had to drink no wine until Easter, for he would be the more joyful for it at dinner. . . .
BEAUPÈRE: Could you not so manage things with this voice that it would obey you and carry a message to your King?
JOAN: I know not if the voice would obey, unless it be the will of God and that God consented to it. Were it not by God’s grace, I could do nothing. . . .
BEAUPÈRE: This voice, of which you ask counsel, has it face and eyes?
JOAN: You shall not have that either. Little children say that sometimes men are hanged for having spoken the truth.
BEAUPÈRE: Do you know if you are in God’s grace?
JOAN: If I am not, may God bring me to it; if I am, may God keep me in it.* I should be the most grieved woman in all the world if I knew myself to be not in the grace of God
, and were I in (a state of) sin, I think that the voice would not come to me, and I would that all could hear it as well as I.
After that answer the interrogation underwent a sudden change of subject. This may be exactly what happened; or it may be one of those deliberate omissions from the minutes of questions and answers. Her enlightened answer on the state of grace had, indeed, struck several of those present as it still strikes us to-day. During the course of the Trial of Rehabilitation one of the notaries bore witness:
Boisguillaume: “During the trial Joan very often complained that she was being asked subtle questions without any bearing on the case. I well remember that once she was asked if she was in a state of grace. She answered that it was a great matter (chose grande) to answer on such a subject. And in the end she answered: ‘If I am, may God keep me in it; if I am not, may God bring me to it, for I would rather die than not be in the love of God’ At this answer those who were questioning her were stupefied and at that time they stopped and questioned her no more that time.” (R.211)
It is possible that Boisguillaume’s memory was at fault and that the interrogatory was only suspended. At all events the following session was concerned with events in her childhood, the fairy tree at Domremy, and dealt with nothing of importance until the very end, when the matter of her male attire was raised, a matter which Joan did not yet consider of the slightest importance:
BEAUPÈRE: Will you wear woman’s clothes?
JOAN: Give me a suit, I will take it and go away. Otherwise I will not take it. I am satisfied with what I have on since it pleases God that I wear it.
Tuesday, February 27th
The questioning was again left to Jean Beaupère and, after the usual argument about the oath, he again questioned her about the voices and on certain other details such as her sword.
BEAUPÈRE: Do you see Saint Michael and the angels corporeally and really?
JOAN: I see them with my corporeal eyes as well as I see you, and when they withdrew from me I wept and I should have liked them to take me with them. . . .
BEAUPÈRE: Is it Saint Catherine and Saint Margaret with whom you speak?
JOAN: I have told you often enough that they are Saint Catherine and Saint Margaret. And believe me if you will.
BEAUPÈRE: Is it forbidden you to say so?
JOAN: I have not yet fully understood whether it is forbidden or not.
BEAUPÈRE: How do you know how to make the distinction when you answer on certain points and others not?
JOAN: On certain points I asked permission and received it. I would rather be torn apart by four horses than to have gone to France without God’s permission.
BEAUPÈRE: Did he command you to wear man’s clothes?
JOAN: The clothes are a trifle, the very least of things. I did not put on man’s clothes by the counsel of any man in the world and I did not put on the clothes and I did not do anything excepting by the commandment of God and the angels. . . .
BEAUPÈRE: Do you believe that you did right to put on man’s clothes?
JOAN: All that I have done, I have done by God’s commandment and I believe that I did right, and I expect from it good warrant and good succour.
BEAUPÈRE: In the particular case of taking on man’s clothes, do you think that you did right?
JOAN: Of what I have done in the world I have done nothing but by God’s commandment.
BEAUPÈRE: When you see this voice which comes to you, is there light?
JOAN: There is much light everywhere, and that is very fitting. Not all light comes only for you.
After this Beaupère made Joan explain in what manner she had found the sword of Sainte-Catherine de Fierbois.
BEAUPÈRE: Have you ever made a prayer that this sword be right fortunate?
JOAN: It is good to know that I should have liked that my harness be right fortunate!
BEAUPÈRE: Had you your sword when you were taken prisoner?
JOAN: No, but I had a sword that had been taken from a Burgundian.
BEAUPÈRE: Where has the sword been left, in which town?
JOAN: I gave a sword to Saint-Denis and a suit of armour, but it was not that sword. I had that sword at Lagny and from Lagny I carried the sword of the Burgundian to Compiègne. It was a good war sword and good for giving good buffets and good swipes. . . . (bonnes buffes et bonnes torchons).
BEAUPÈRE: Which did you like the better, your standard or your sword?
JOAN: I liked much better, even forty times, my standard than my sword.
BEAUPÈRE: Who made you have a painting done on the standard?
JOAN: I have told you often enough that I have done nothing without God’s commandment.
Thursday, March 1st
On this day an attempt was made to confuse Joan by recalling a certain letter from the Count of Armagnac asking her which pope he ought to obey. We have here an echo of that great schism which divided Christendom for years, while first two and finally three popes wrangled over the pontifical office, until the election of Martin V put an end to the strife, although not everybody was willing to accept his supremacy without hesitation.
JOAN: To what he asked me: whom God would have him, the Count of Armagnac, obey, I answered him that I did not know, but I sent word to him of several things which were not put in writing, and as for my own part, I believe in the lord pope who is in Rome.
CAUCHON: Is it your custom to put on your letters the names Jhesus-Maria with a cross?
JOAN: On some I put them, and sometimes not. And sometimes I put a cross as a sign that he of my side to whom I was writing should not do what I wrote to him.
This cross then, which Joan drew on such letters which she dictated as contained false information or orders designed to deceive the enemy, was simply a war ruse. The detail has a certain importance, as we shall see when we come to the end of this chapter.
In this session, moreover, Joan was to fling down a veritable challenge before her judges, and that in the ironical style which she enjoyed using.
JOAN: Before seven years be passed, the English will lose a greater gage than they had at Orleans, and they will lose all in France. And the English will even suffer a greater loss than they ever had in France and this will be by a great victory which God will send to the French.
Question: How do you know that?
JOAN: I know it well by a revelation which has been made to me, and it will happen before seven years; and I should be very vexed should it be so long deferred. I know it as well as I know that you are there in front of me.
Question: When will this happen?
JOAN: I know not the day nor the hour.
Question: In what year will it happen?
JOAN: That too you shall not have, but I would that it might be before Saint John’s Day.
Touching these words, which were noted down and registered in the month of March 1431, it is worth recalling that the liberation of Paris occurred on April 13, 1436. And it may be thought that she was alluding to the raising of the siege of Compiègne, a retreat to which the Duke of Burgundy was constrained on October 25, 1431, when she added:
JOAN: I have said that before the feast of Saint Martin of the winter we shall see many things, and it may well be that there will be Englishmen stricken to the ground.
It was Cauchon himself who conducted the interrogation on that day. One wonders whether it was this which stimulated Joan in her vein of insolence, for she rarely carried defiance and irony to such lengths. Thus, on the subject of her voices:
Question: What figures do you see?
JOAN: I see their faces.
Question: These saints which appear to you, have they hair?
JOAN: It’s good to know!*
Question: How do they speak?
JOAN: This voice is beautiful, sweet and humble (low) and it speaks the French language.
Question: Does not Saint Margaret speak the English tongue?
JOAN: How should she speak English since she is not on the side of t
he English?
Question: Have you any rings?
JOAN: You have one of mine. Give it back to me. The Burgundians have another ring. You have that ring, show it to me.
Question: Who gave you the ring which the Burgundians have?
JOAN: My father and my mother, and I think that it had written on it the names Jhesus-Maria. I do not know who had them written; there was no stone, as I recall; it was given to me in the town of Domremy. It was my brother who gave me that ring. . . .
Question: What have you done with your mandragora?
JOAN: I have no mandragora and never had any. I have heard it said that near to my town there is one, but I have never seen any. I have heard it said that it is a thing evil and dangerous to keep. But I know not what use it is . . . I have heard it said that it is a thing to make money come. But I do not believe in that.
Question: Of what form was Saint Michael when he appeared to you?
JOAN: I saw no crown on him; and of his clothes I know nothing.
Question: Was he naked?
JOAN: Do you think that God cannot afford to clothe him?
Question: Had he hair?
JOAN: Why should it have been cut off?
And finally, touching the King:
JOAN: I know well that my King will win the kingdom of France and I know it as well as I know that you are before me as my judge. I should be dead were it not for the revelation which comforts me every day. . . .
Question: What sign did you give your King that you were come from God?
JOAN: I have always told you that you will not drag that out of my mouth. Go and ask him!
Joan of Arc Page 22
