To some she threw a word, not very explicit perhaps, but, all the same, a word by which they might, as indeed they did, remember her. She called out to Mengette Joyart, for instance, saying ‘Good-bye!’ and recommending her to God, as she left for Vaucouleurs.fn7 Jean Waterin heard her saying ‘Good-bye!’ to various people as, in her patched red dress, she passed through Greux on her way.fn8 Gérard Guillemette, equally, the youngest among her witnesses, who can have been no more than fourteen years old at the time, remembered having seen her pass in front of his father’s house in company of Durand Lassois, when she bade his father ‘Good-bye! I am off to Vaucouleurs.’fn9
To Hauviette, however, her most intimate friend from childhood upwards, she spoke no farewell at all. Hauviette was often with Jeanne, and even slept with her in her father’s house. This was a common custom, especially between girls who had made their first communion together,fn10 though in this case Hauviette uses the rather curious expression jacuit amorose. Jeanne evidently avoided any form of farewell to Hauviette, who ‘wept bitterly on learning of her departure, because she loved Jeanne greatly for her goodness, and because she had been her friend.’ fn11
IV
It is difficult to disentangle Jeanne’s exact movements during the six weeks which elapsed between her second visit to her Lassois relations at Burey in the beginning of January 1429, and her final departure for Chinon on February 23rd of the same year. They are confused by variously conflicting evidence. But do such things matter very much, except to scholars, each anxious to catch the other out on a point of accuracy? It seems to me, perhaps wrongly, that the question of a disputed day or so, or even of a week or so, adds nothing except a too scrupulously pedantic interest to an ultimate estimate of the phenomenon represented by Jeanne d’Arc.fn12
The confusion arises largely because Durand Lassois, obliging as he proved himself towards Jeanne, does not appear to have possessed the most lucid and orderly of memories, nor the gift of arranging his facts in their unmistakably chronological order. Without entering into too many details, we must consider the evidence of a certain Catherine le Royer, in whose house, at Vaucouleurs, Jeanne stayed as a guest for three weeks. Lassois states that Jeanne stayed in his house, at Burey, for six weeks; therefore, if Jeanne left Domremy for Burey at the beginning of January 1429, and subsequently left Vaucouleurs for Chinon on February 23rd, as is certain, the three weeks she spent with Catherine le Royer must be included in the six weeks spent under the wing of the Lassois from early January to mid-February. Even the suggestion that Lassois may have muddled up Jeanne’s first visit to his house in May of 1428, with her second visit in 1429, does not get us out of the difficulty.fn13 When we remember, however, that Jeanne not only went backwards and forwards between Burey and Vaucouleurs, but also made a separate journey to Nancy during this period, and that Lassois was testifying twenty-six years later and was probably frightened, a simple peasant then aged sixty, his confusion becomes quite comprehensible.
These details of where, exactly, she spent her time during those critical six weeks, and of how she divided them between the Lassois’ home and that of Catherine and Henri le Royer, are not, in themselves, of very great importance. We can take it for granted that she was staying either in one house or the other. She must, incidentally, have had plenty to occupy her mind: there was Jeanne Lassois’ baby – that convenient infant who never reappears in Jeanne’s history – and, above all, there was the task of coaxing Robert de Baudricourt round to her own point of view.
That task had become considerably simplified since the previous May 1428. For one thing, the position in France was becoming more and more desperate. Orleans had been besieged since October 1428 by the English. Baudricourt himself had his troubles and dangers in his own little governorship of Vaucouleurs. The local lord, René Duke of Bar, his friend and ally, was even then resisting the efforts of the Duke of Bedford to tum him into a vassal of the English King. It no longer seemed so natural to Baudricourt to receive any possible saviour with derision, even when that saviour announced herselfunder such fantastic colours. As M Siméon Luce caustically remarks, quand on n’attend plus rien de la terre, on est moins prompt à dédaigner un secours annoncé au nom du ciel.
Besides Jeanne by now had acquired, so to speak, friends at Court. One of these, Bertrand de Poulengy, has already made his appearance on the scene (see supra, Chapter 5, here). The other one, Jean de Nouvilonpont, or Novelompont, or Nouillompont, more commonly known as Jean de Metz, now walks out from the wings on to the stage for the first, but not for the last, time. Although neither Bertrand de Poulengy nor Jean de Metz may claim to rank as deep or dominating influences in Jeanne’s life, and although they were later to be superseded by far more consequential and vivid personages, they must still retain a place of honour as among the first to believe in her startling mission, and, more importantly, as ready to give her their practical support at a time when she was most in need of it. Young adventurous soldiers as they were, they would appear the very last people likely to award their credence to a village girl having no experience either of the arts of war or of the leadership of men. Yet, somehow, very early in her career, they turned themselves into the pioneers, almost the impresarios, of Jeanne d’Arc, recognising a quality in her: the quality which has enrolled her not only among the saints, but also among the captains of history.
Very little is known about either of them, apart from the role they played at the outset of her public career. They both appear to have been men of relatively gentle birth – that is to say, not of the same class as Jeanne’s own parents, friends, and relations, who belonged mostly to the class of labourers and wheelwrights and suchlike simple rustic people. Bertrand de Poulengy and Jean de Metz were both better born than that. They were men of the sword. Poulengy is the one of whom we know least. We know, in fact, very little about him save that he is described as écuyer de l’écurie royale de France: and that he was born noble, whereas Jean de Metz was not. Of Jean de Metz we know a little more, but still not much. He may, or may not, have inherited the seigneurie of Nouillompont from his father; he had been attached to another captain before taking service under Baudricourt, and was ennobled in 1449.fn14 Poulengy was in the middle thirties, de Metz between twenty-eight and thirty-one, when they met Jeanne at Vaucouleurs. They had both got themselves into slight and insignificant trouble with the authorities before she arrived to upset their lives – very much the same sort of trouble as a lively young man of today might get himself into, whatever one may choose as the modem equivalent – Bertrand de Poulengy for helping someone to escape from prison, Jean de Metz for swearing a vilain serment and for flinging an award of money on the ground. fn15 In short, they seem to have belonged to a very usual type of young men of good family, and to have comported themselves very much as one would expect such young men to do. Where they differed from ordinary young men – ordinary rough young soldiers – was in their early recognition of Jeanne and the possibilities of her mission. It docs not appear that either of them had known her personally before she came to Vaucoulcurs, though Poulengy was acquainted with her parents, perhaps only later on, as he never appears to have seen Jeanne in their house but only to have heard of her good repute. He, as already related, was present at her first interview with Baudricourt. Jean de Metz, as his own deposition makes clear, had heard of her and of her ambitions, for, on first meeting her in the house of Catherine and Henri le Royer, dressed in her poor red dress (pauperibus vestibus, rubeis, muliebribus), he went up to her, saying, ‘Ma mie, what are you doing here? Must the King be driven from his kingdom and must we all become English?’ Jeanne’s reply to him was either much longer than she was accustomed to make or else his memory served him better than that of other witnesses; that he invented it or any part of it I do not believe, for it bears the authentic stamp of Jeanne’s utterances, much as Queen Elizabeth’s always bear the stamp of hers. ‘I have come to this royal town,’ she said, meaning Vaucouleurs, ‘to ask Robert de Baudricour
t either to lead or to send me under escort to the King. He takes no notice of me or of my words; nevertheless, before mid-Lent, I must be on my way to the King, even if I must wear out my legs to 1he knees. There is no one in the world, neither king, nor duke, nor daughter of the King of Scotland, fn16 nor any other, who can regain the kingdom of France; there is no help for the kingdom but in me. I should prefer to be spinning beside my poor mother, for these things do not belong to my station; yet it is necessary that I should go, and do these things, since God wishes that I should do them.’ Jean de Metz then took her hand and swore on his faith that, God helping them, he would lead her to the King. He asked her when she wanted to start. ‘Now, rather than tomorrow,’ she replied, ‘and tomorrow rather than the day after.’fn17
How unconsciously complete is the picture thus created! Henri le Royer being only a wheelwright in humble circumstances, the house in the little mediaeval town must have been small, and the room dark. As in a Rembrandt, one can see the group of three, uncertainly lit: Catherine le Royer watching apart; Jeanne in her red dress, quiet and earnest; the puzzled soldier standing over her, then going up to her and taking her hand – but such games of imagination are too easy, and the temptation must be resisted. It is better to come back soberly to the actual words of Jean de Metz, which will carry us a step further in the narrative.
V
Having taken his oath of alliance, almost of allegiance, he appears to have turned immediately to the practical aspects of the question. Did Jeanne, he asked, want to go on her journey dressed in her own clothes? To this she replied that she would gladly adopt masculine garments, whereupon he fitted her out with both clothes and boots belonging to his servants.fn18 This seems rather odd, in view of the respect in which he so evidently held her. It may be asking too much of a needy soldier to suggest that he might well have bought her a new outfit, all to herself, but one would at least expect him to have given her some clothes from his own wardrobe, rather than such menial equipment as he could borrow from his servants. There may have been reasons which, at this distance of time, we cannot estimate. Perhaps he was too tall for his clothes to fit her. In any case, he certainly meant her no disrespect; nor was it long before he, in conjunction with Poulengy, arranged for a complete masculine equipment to be provided for her by the people of Vaucouleurs.fn19 He must therefore have regarded the borrowing from the servants as a temporary measure.
Jeanne cannot have been very fastidious. One could scarcely expect it of a fifteenth-century peasant. But that she should have been ready to wear either Lassois’ clothes or those of common soldiers was perhaps going a little too far. We must, however, consider that habits of personal cleanliness appealed but mildly to the mediaeval mind. If the more civilised Italians were shocked by the unsavoury habits of the French aristocracy, even towards the end of Jeanne’s century, so that French guests in Italian palaces had to be requested not to blow their noses in the bed-curtains, what must the habits of the French proletariat have been at its beginning! To use Jeanne’s favourite expression, ‘Passons outre.’
VI
The red dress was threatened – faithful red dress, so often mentioned, so soon to be discarded. It is noteworthy, I think, that Jean de Metz should so quickly have turned to tackle the problem of her outward appearance, whether it should remain feminine or become masculine. Was it because, having committed himself to conduct her across France, his practical mind rushed at once to the possible, and indeed probable, hazards which would be incurred by a woman on so perilous a journey – a journey perilous for anybody, but doubly so for a woman? It is fair to assume that he would have felt his responsibility lightened if his charge would consent to travel under the guise of a boy instead of a girl. His normal soldierly experience would certainly have suggested the very necessary expedient of this apparent change of sex, in view of the ride they were proposing to undertake over some three hundred and fifty miles of a country in a state of war.fn20
VII
It is not stated whether Jeanne was still wearing her own clothes when she saw Robert de Baudricourt for the second time, or whether she had already acquired the servant’s garb. In either case, he must have been considerably surprised by her reappearance. At first he was still unwilling to agree to her requests.fn21 Then some leaven seems to have worked in his mind. This insistent visionary, who kept on turning up with her fantastic schemes; this visionary whom neither derision nor rebuffs nor coarse levity had succeeded in discouraging – might it perhaps be worth while to investigate her claims after all? It could do no harm; at the worst, the girl might get raped or even killed; that was her look-out, not his. Besides, the state of France was so really precarious that any promise offered at least a hope. Miracles had been known to happen before; they might happen again. His own men, Poulengy and Jean de Metz, solid soldiers, no sentimentalists, had fallen under her spell, a spell in which, oddly enough, no question of sex could possibly be mixed up. No doubt the conviction of his two young captains went far towards persuading him to re-consider his own ideas. There must have been something in Robert de Baudricourt beyond the hearty soldier with his eye to the main chance: something of the same element that Jeanne had succeeded in touching in Poulengy and Jean de Metz. It was a credulous, frightened, groping age, where life and death, Church and State, mystery and brutality, were all very much mixed together, and Baudricourt was of his age. Still, although no longer completely scornful, he was determined to proceed with caution. Evidently he had no intention of despatching a charlatan, or, worse, a witch, under his aegis to incur the Dauphin’s sneers and possible displeasure. So a second scene took place in Catherine le Royer’s dark little room.
Catherine relates it in her own words: ‘She [Jeanne] liked spinning, and span well; we span together in my home.… During this time [i.e. while Jeanne was staying with her] I saw Robert de Baudricourt, governor of the town, enter my house, with M Jean Fournier, of whom I have already spoken.’fn22 At this point it seems likely that Catherine was sent out of the room, for she continues as though she were no longer an eye-witness. ‘Jeanne told me that the priest was wearing his stole, and that he adjured her to keep away from them, if she were an evil thing; but that if, on the other hand, she should be good, she should approach them. Jeanne told me that she had crept towards the priest, even to his knees; she added that the priest had not acted properly towards her, because he had already heard her in confession.’fn23At this point, it would appear that Catherine was allowed back into the room, or, as seems even more likely, eavesdropped. She was a good and honest woman, appreciative of the young guest who helped her with her spinning; but, like many other good and honest women, she may reasonably be supposed to have been born with her fair share of curiosity, and a guest such as Jeanne from Domremy – a guest whose family she knew only by hearsay – foisted on her by her neighbour Durand Lassois of Burey, may as reasonably be supposed to have aroused that curiosity to its highest pitch. After all, it was not an everyday occurrence for the governor of the town to arrive at the house of a mere wheelwright, accompanied by the curé, in order to interview an obscure young stranger from a neighbouring village. Never before had her house been thus honoured. Something very especial and exciting must be afoot. Who shall blame Catherine le Royer, if, having been dismissed from the scene of this very unusual interview, she returned to listen behind the door?
At any rate, she heard, or overheard, the rest of the conversation:
‘When Jeanne saw that the said Robert would not send her, I heard her say that it was imperative that she should go to the place where the Dauphin was, saying, “Have you not heard the prophecy, that France shall be lost through a woman, fn24 and shall be redeemed by a virgin from the frontiers of Lorraine?” I remembered then that I had heard this said, and was much astonished. Jeannette’s impatience was so urgent that the time seemed to her as long as to a woman great with child.’fn25
Perhaps the comparison with the woman on the eve of her delivery was drawn from her recen
t experience in the house of Jeanne Lassois?
VIII
The unforeseen ordeal of confrontation with the priest and his stole turned out as a success for Jeanne. She had neither howled nor writhed, nor foamed at the mouth, nor tried to escape, nor given way to any of the hysterical demonstrations expected of persons supposed to be possessed of devils; and, as for flinging herself on the floor, she had done no more than fall on her knees in order to approach the man of God in that most humble of attitudes. She had certainly evinced no terror of him. Robert de Baudricourt could not fail to be impressed. Moreover, his insistent visionary was obviously bothering him beyond resistance, and was on the high road to persuading him in her favour against his better judgment. One cannot help feeling sorry for the poor man when one reads an account such as that of an anonymous author who relates that: … fut moult ennuyeusement prié, requis et pressé ce capitaine par la dessus dicte Pucelle.fn26 We may well believe it. La dessus dicte Pucelle was not the person to let her conviction go, once it had taken a hold on her, to whatever extent it meant bothering ce capitaine. Fanatics are made of that stuff, and cannot stop to consider the nuisance they are making of themselves to other more soberly minded people, otherwise they could never accomplish the things they set out to accomplish. Besides, Robert de Baudricourt was not entirely unwilling to be convinced. The same chronicler, after giving his little tribute of implied sympathy to the capitaine moult ennuyeusement prié, adds, lequel capitaine adjouxta quelque foy.
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