A Monk of Fife

by Various

  CHAPTER XXIV--HOW THE MAID HEARD ILL TIDINGS FROM HER VOICES, AND OF THESILENCE OF THE BIRDS

  Eastertide came at last, and that early, Easter Day falling on March thetwenty-seventh. Our King kept his Paques at Sully with great festival,but his deadly foe, the Duke of Burgundy, lay at the town of Peronne. Sosoon as Eastertide was over, the Duke drew all the force he had toMontdidier, a town which lies some eight leagues to the north and west ofCompiegne. Hence he so wrought that he made a pact with the captain ofthe French in Gournay, a town some four leagues north and west ofCompiegne, whereby the garrison there promised to lie idle, and make noonslaught against them of Burgundy, unless the King brought them arescue. Therefore the Duke went back to Noyon on the Oise, some eightleagues north and east of Compiegne, while his captain, Jean deLuxembourg, led half his army west, towards Beauvais. There he took thecastle of Provenlieu, an old castle, and ruinous, that the English hadrepaired and held. And there he hanged certain English, who were used topillage all the country about Montdidier. Thence Jean de Luxembourg cameback to the Duke, at Noyon, and took and razed Choisy, which was held forFrance.

  Now all these marchings, and takings of towns, were designed to one end,namely, that the Duke might have free passage over the river Oise, sothat his men and his victual might safely come and go from the east. For,manifestly, it was his purpose to besiege and take the good town ofCompiegne, which lies on the river Oise some fifteen leagues north andeast of Paris. This town had come in, and yielded to the Maid, someweeks before the onfall of Paris, and it was especially dear to her, forthe people had sworn that they would all die, and see their wives andchildren dead, rather than yield to England or Burgundy. Moreover,whosoever held Compiegne was like, in no long time, to be master ofParis. But as now Guillaume de Flavy commanded in Compiegne for theKing, a very good knight and skilled captain, but a man who robbed andravished wheresoever he had power. His brother, Louis de Flavy, alsojoined him after Choisy fell, as I have told.

  All this I have written that men may clearly know how the Maid came byher end. For, so soon as Eastertide was over, and the truce ended, shemade no tarrying, nor even said farewell to the King, who might have heldher back, but drew out all her company, and rode northward, whither sheknew that battle was to be. Her mind was to take some strong place onthe Oise, as Pont l'Eveque, near Noyon, that she might cut off them ofBurgundy from all the country eastward of Oise, and so put them out ofthe power to besiege Compiegne, and might destroy all their host atMontdidier and in the Beauvais country. For the Maid was not only thefirst of captains in leading a desperate onslaught, but also (by miracle,for otherwise it might not be) she best knew how to devise deep schemesand subtle stratagem of war.

  Setting forth, therefore, early in April, on the fifteenth day of themonth she came to Melun, a town some seven leagues south of Paris, thathad lately yielded to the King. Bidding me walk with her, she went afootabout the walls, considering what they lacked of strength, and how theymight best be repaired, and bidding me write down all in a little book.Now we two, and no other, were walking by the dry fosse of Melun, the daybeing very fair and warm for that season, the flowers blossoming, and thebirds singing so sweet and loud as never I heard them before or sincethat day.

  The Maid stood still to listen, holding up her hand to me for silence,when, lo! in one moment, in the midst of merry music, the birds hushedsuddenly.

  As I marvelled, for there was not a cloud in the sky, nor a breath ofcold wind, I beheld the Maid standing as I had seen her stand in thefarmyard of the mill by St. Denis. Her head was bare, and her face waswhite as snow. So she stood while one might count a hundred, and if everany could say that he had seen the Maid under fear, it was now. As Iwatched and wondered, she fell on her knees, like one in prayer, and withher eyes set and straining, and with clasped hands, she said thesewords--"Tell me of that day, and that hour, or grant me, of your grace,that in the same hour I may die."

  Then she was silent for short space, and then, having drawn herself uponher knees for three paces or four, she very reverently bowed down, andkissed the ground.

  Thereafter she arose, and beholding me wan, I doubt not, she gently laidher hand upon my shoulder, and, smiling most sweetly, she said--

  "I know not what thou hast seen or heard, but promise, on thine honour,that thou wilt speak no word to any man, save in confession only, while Ibear arms for France."

  Then humbly, and with tears, I vowed as she had bidden me, whereto sheonly said--

  "Come, we loiter, and I have much to do, for the day is short."

  But whether the birds sang again, or stinted, I know not, for I marked itnot.

  But she set herself, as before, to consider the walls and the fosses,bidding me write down in my little book what things were needful. Norwas her countenance altered in any fashion, nor was her wit less clear;but when we had seen all that was to be looked to, she bade me call thechief men of the town to her house, after vespers, and herself went intothe Church of St. Michael to pray.

  Though I pondered much on this strange matter, which I laid up in myheart, I never knew what, belike, the import was, till nigh a yearthereafter, at Rouen.

  But there one told me how the Maid, before her judges, had said that, atMelun, by the fosse, her Saints had told her how she should be madeprisoner before the feast of St. John. And she had prayed them to warnher of that hour, or in that hour might she die, but they bade her endureall things patiently, and with a willing mind. At that coming, then, ofthe Saints, I was present, though, being a sinful man, I knew not thatthe Holy Ones were there. But the birds knew, and stinted in theirsinging.

  Now that the Maid, knowing by inspiration her hour to be even at thedoors, and wotting well what the end of her captivity was like to be, yethad the heart to put herself in jeopardy day by day, this I deem the mostvaliant deed ever done by man or woman since the making of the world. Forscarce even Wallace wight would have stood to his standard had he known,by teaching of them who cannot lie, what end awaited him beyond all hope.Nay, he would have betaken him to France, as once he did in time of lessdanger.

  Now, I pray you, consider who she was that showed this courage and highheart. She was but the daughter of a manant, a girl of eighteen years ofage. Remember, then, what manner of creature such a girl is of hernature; how weak and fearful; how she is discomfited and abashed by thecompany of even one gentleman or lady of noble birth; how ignorant she isof war; how fond to sport and play with wenches of her own degree; howeasily set on fire of love; and how eager to be in the society of youngmen amorous. Pondering all these things in your hearts, judge ye whetherthis Maid, the bravest leader in breach, the wisest captain, havingforeknowledge of things hidden and of things to come, the most courteouslady who ever with knights sat in hall, not knowing carnal love, norbodily fear, was aught but a thing miraculous, and a sister of theSaints.