A Heroine of France: The Story of Joan of Arc

  CHAPTER XVI. HOW THE MAID ACCOMPLISHED HER MISSION.

  Shall I ever forget that evening? No, not if I live to be ahundred!

  June had well-nigh passed ere we began our march from Gien--thattriumphant march headed by the King and the Maid--and July had runhalf its course since we had been upon the road. For we had had agreat tract of country to traverse, and a large army must needshave time in which to move itself.

  And now upon a glorious golden evening in that month of sunshineand summertide, we saw before us--shining in a floating mist ofreflected glory--the spires and towers, the walls and gates of thegreat city of Rheims--the goal of our journeyings--the promisedland of the Maid's visions and voices!

  Was it indeed a city of stone and wood which shone before us in thelevel rays of the sinking sun? I asked that question of myself;methinks that the Maid was asking it in her heart; for when Iturned my eyes upon her, I caught my breath in amaze at her aspect,and I know now what it is to say that I have looked upon the faceof an angel!

  She had dropped her reins, and they hung loose upon her horse'sneck; her hands were clasped together in a strange rapture ofdevotion. Her head was bare; for she often gave her headpiece toher page to carry for her, and in the evenings did not alwaysreplace it by any other covering. Her hair had grown a littlelonger during these months, and curled round her face in a loosehalo, which in the strong and ruddy light of the setting sun, shonea glorious golden colour, as though a ray of heavenly light wereenmeshed within it.

  But it was the extraordinary brightness of those great luminouseyes, the rapt and intense expression of her face which arrested myattention, and seemed for a moment to stop the triumphant beatingof my heart. It was not triumph which I read there, though therewas joy and rapture and peace, beyond all power of understanding.It was the face of one who sees heaven open, and in the wonder andawe of the beatific vision forgets all else, and feels not thefetters of the flesh, heeds not those things which must needsintervene ere the spirit can finally be loosed to enter uponblessedness and rest, but soars upwards at once into heavenlyregions.

  The town of Rheims lay before us. The inhabitants were pouringforth to meet us. We saw them coming over the plain, as we watchedthe walls and buildings, glowing in the mystic radiance of thesummer's evening, loom up larger and grander and sharper before us.It was no dream!

  And yet who would have thought it possible three months ago? Inmid-April the iron grip of the English lay all over the land northof the Loire, and the south lay supine and helpless, stricken withthe terror of the victorious conqueror. Orleans was at its lastgasp, and with its fall the last bulwark would be swept away; allFrance must own the sway of the conqueror. The King was powerless,indolent, ready to fly at the first approach of peril, with no hopeand no desire for rule, doubtful even if he had the right to takeupon himself the title of King, careless in his despair and hisdifficulties. The army was almost non-existent; the soldiers couldscarce be brought to face the foe. One Englishman could chase tenof ours. The horror as of a great darkness seemed to have fallenupon the land.

  And yet in three months' time what had not been accomplished!

  The King was riding into the ancient city of Rheims, to be crownedKing of France; Orleans was relieved; a score of fortresses hadbeen snatched from the hands of the English. These were fleeingfrom us in all directions back to Paris; where they hoped to make astand against us, but were in mortal fear of attack; and now it wasour soldiers who clamoured to be led against the English--theEnglish who fled helter-skelter before the rush and the dash of themen whom heretofore they had despised.

  And all this was the work of yonder marvellous Maid--a girl ofseventeen summers, who, clad in white armour, shining like anangelic vision, was riding at the King's side towards the city.

  He turned and looked at her at the moment my gaze was thusarrested, and I saw his face change. He put out his hand andtouched hers gently; but he had to touch her twice and to speaktwice ere she heard or knew.

  "Jeanne--fairest maiden--what do you see?"

  She turned her gaze upon him--radiant, misty, marvellous.

  "I see the Land of Promise," she answered, speaking very low, yetso clearly that I heard every word. "The chosen of the Lord will goforward to victory. He will drive out the enemy before the face ofhim upon whom He shall set the crown of pure gold. France shallprosper--her enemies shall be confounded. What matter whose thework, or whose the triumph? What matter who shall fall ere the taskbe accomplished--so that it be done according to the mind of theLord?"

  "And by the power of the Maid--the Deliverer!" spoke the King, agush of gratitude filling his heart, as he looked first at theslight figure and inspired face of the Maid, and then at the citytowards which we were riding, the faint clash of joy bells bornesoftly to our ears. "For to you, O my General, I owe it all; andmay the Lord judge betwixt us twain if I share not every honourthat I may yet win with her who has accomplished this miracle!"

  But her gaze was full of an inexplicable mystery.

  "Nay, gentle Dauphin, but that will not be," she said; "One shallincrease, another shall decrease--hath it not ever been so? My taskis accomplished. My work is done. Let another take my place aftertomorrow, for my mission will be accomplished."

  "Never!" cried the King firmly and earnestly, and when I heard himthus speak my heart rejoiced; for I, no more than others, believedthat success could attend the King's further efforts without herwho was the inspiration of the army, and the worker of these greatmiracles which had been wrought. How often have I wonderedsince--but that is no part of my story. Let me tell those thingswhich did happen to us.

  How can I tell of our entry into Rheims? Have I not spoken in otherplaces of other such scenes, often in the early dusk of evening,when whole cities flocked out to meet the Maid, to gaze in awe andwonder upon her, to kiss her hands, her feet, her knees, the neckand flanks of the horse she rode, and even his very footprints inthe road, as he moved along with his precious burden?

  As it was there, so was it here--the same joy, the same wonder, thesame enthusiasm. The King was greeted with shouts and acclamations,it is true; but the greater admiration and wonder was reserved forthe Maid, and he knew it, and smiled, well pleased that it shouldbe so; for at that time his heart was full of a great gratitude andaffection, and never did he seek to belittle that which she hadwrought on his behalf.

  Thankfulness, peace, and happiness shone in the eyes of the Maid asshe rode; but there was a nearer and more personal joy in store forher; for as we passed through the town, with many pauses on accountof the greatness of the throng, pouring in and out of the churches(for it was the vigil of the Madelaine), or crowding about the Kingand the Maid, she chanced to lift her eyes to the windows of an innin the place, and behold her face kindled with a look differentfrom any I had seen there before, and she looked around for me, andbeckoning with her hand, she pointed upwards, and cried in tones ofstrange delight and exultation:

  "My father, fair knight, my father! I saw his face!"

  Now, I knew that Jacques d'Arc had been greatly set against hisdaughter's mission, and it had been declared that he had disownedher, and would have withheld her from going forth, had such a thingbeen within his power. She had never received any message of loveor forgiveness from him all these weeks, though her two youngerbrothers had joined the army, and were always included in herhousehold. So that I was not surprised at the kindling of herglance, nor at the next words she spoke.

  "Go to him, my friend; tell him that I must needs have speech withhim. Ah, say that I would fain return home with him when my task isdone, if it be permitted me. Go, find him speedily, ere he canbetake himself away. My father! My father! I had scarce hoped tolook upon his face again!"

  So whilst the King and the Maid and their train rode on to the hugeold palace of the Archeveche, hard by the Cathedral, I slipped outof my place in the ranks, and passed beneath the archway into thecourtyard of the old inn, where the Maid declared that she had seenthe face of her father
looking forth.

  I had not much trouble in finding him; for already a whisper hadgone forth that certain friends and relatives of the wonderful Maidhad journeyed from Domremy to witness her triumphant entry intoRheims. Indeed, some of these had followed us from Chalons, allunknown to her, who would so gladly have welcomed them. Chalons,though a fortified town, and with a hostile garrison, had openedits gates to us without resistance, feeling how hopeless it was tostrive against the power of the Maid.

  The wonder and awe inspired by her presence, and by her marvellousachievements, had sunk deeply into the spirits of these simplecountry folk, who had only heretofore known Jeanne d'Arc as agentle village maiden, beloved of all, but seeming not in any wayseparated from her companions and friends. Now they had seen her,white and glistening, in martial array, riding beside a King, anarmy at her back, acclaimed of the multitude, the idol of the hour,a victor in a three months' campaign, the like of which never wasbefore, and methinks can never be again.

  So now, when I stood face to face with the rugged prud'homme, thefather of this wonderful Maid, and told him of her desire to speakwith him upon the morrow, when the King should have received hiscrown, I saw that many emotions were struggling together in hisbreast; for his soul revolted yet, in some measure, at the thoughtof his girl a leader of men, the head of an army, the friend ofkings and courtiers, whilst it was impossible but that some measureof pride and joy should be his at the thought of her achievements,and in the assurance that at last the King, whom loyal littleDomremy had ever served and loved, was to receive his crown, and bethe anointed sovereign of the land.

  "She desires speech with me? She, whom I have seen riding besidethe King? What have I to do with the friends of royalty? How canshe consort with princes and with peasants?"

  "Let her show you that herself, my friend," I answered. "We, whohave companied with her through these wonderful weeks, know wellhow that she is no less a loving daughter, a friend of the people,for being the friend of a King and the idol of an army. Give mesome message for her. She longs for a kind word from you. Let meonly take her word that you will see her and receive her as afather should receive his child, and I trow that it will give heralmost the same joy as the knowledge that by her miraculous callshe has saved her country and crowned her King."

  I scarce know what answer Jacques d'Arc would have made, for he wasa proud, unbending man, and his face was sternly set whilst Ipleaded with him. But there were others from Domremy, entirelyfilled with admiration of the Maid, and with desire to see heragain; and their voices prevailed, so that he gave the answer forwhich I waited. He would remain at the inn over the morrow of thegreat function of the coronation, and would receive his daughterthere, and have speech with her.

  "Tell her that I will take her home with me, if she will come," hespoke; "for she herself did say that her work would be accomplishedwhen the crown was placed upon the King's head. Let her be true toher word; let her return home, and become a modest maiden againbeneath her mother's care, and all shall be well betwixt us. But ifpride and haughtiness possess her soul, and she prefers the companyof courtiers and soldiers to that of her own people, and the lifeof camps to the life of home, then I wash my hands of her. Let hergo her own way. She shall no longer be daughter of mine!"

  I did not tell those words to the Maid. My lips refused to speakthem. But I told her that her father would remain in the place tillshe had leisure to have speech with him; and her eyes kindled withjoy at hearing such news, for it seemed to her as though this wouldbe the pledge of his forgiveness, the forgiveness for which she hadlonged, and for the lack of which none of her triumphs couldaltogether compensate.

  There was no sleep for the city of Rheims upon that hot summer'snight. Although the coming of the King had been rumoured for sometime, it had never been fully believed possible till news had beenbrought of the fall of Troyes, and the instant submission ofChalons. Then, and only then, did citizens and prelates trulyrealise that the talked-of ceremony could become an accomplishedfact, and almost before they had recovered from their amazement atthe rapidity of the march of events, courtiers brought in word thatthe King and his army were approaching.

  So all night long the people were hard at work decorating theircity, their churches, above all their Cathedral; and the priestsand prelates were in close conference debating what vestments, whatvessels, what rites and ceremonies should be employed, and how thelack of certain necessary articles, far away at St. Denis, could besupplied out of the rich treasuries of the Cathedral.

  As the dawn of the morning brightened in the east, the sun roseupon a scene of such splendour and magnificence as perhaps hasseldom been witnessed at such short notice. The whole city seemedone blaze of triumphal arches, of summer flowers, of costly stuffsand rich decoration. Every citizen had donned his best andbrightest suit; the girls and children had clothed themselves inwhite, and crowned themselves with flowers. Even the war-wornsoldiers had polished their arms, furbished up their clothes, andborrowed or bought from the townsfolk such things as were mostlacking; and now, drawn up in array in the great square, withtossing banners, and all the gay panoply of martial glory, theylooked like some great victorious band--as, indeed, theywere--celebrating the last act of a great and wonderful triumph.

  As for the knights, nobles, and courtiers, one need not speak ofthe outward glory of their aspect--the shining armour, the gaydresses, the magnificent trappings of the sleek horses--that canwell be pictured by those who have ever witnessed a like brilliantscene.

  But for the first part of the day, with its many and variedceremonies, there was lacking the shining figure of the Maid; nordid the King himself appear. But forth from the Palace of theArcheveche rode four of the greatest and most notable peers of therealm, attended by a gorgeous retinue; and with banners waving, andtrumpets blowing great martial blasts, they paced proudly throughthe streets, between the closely-packed ranks of soldiers andcitizens, till they reached the ancient Abbey of Sainte Remy, wherethe monks of Sainte Ampoule guard within their shrine the holy oilof consecration, in that most precious vial which, they said, wassent down from heaven itself for the consecration of King Clovisand his successors.

  Upon bended knees and with bared heads these great peers of Francethen took their solemn oath that the sacred vial should never leavetheir sight or care, night or day, till it was restored to thekeeping of the shrine from which the Abbot was about to take it.Then, and only then, would the Abbot, clothed in his most sumptuousvestments, and attended by his robed monks, take from its place thatholy vessel, and place it in the hands of the messengers--KnightsHostages, as they were termed for the nonce--and as they carried itslowly and reverently forth, and retraced their steps to the Cathedral,accompanied now by the Abbot and monks, every knee was bent and everyhead bowed.

  But all the while that this ceremony was taking place, the Maid wasshut up in her room in the Palace, dictating a letter of appeal tothe Duke of Burgundy, and praying him in gentle, yet authoritativeterms, to be reconciled to his King, join hands with him againstthe English foe, and then, if need there were to fight, to turn hisarms against the Saracens, instead of warring with his brethren andkinsmen. I trow that this thing was urged upon her at this time, inthat she believed her mission so nearly accomplished, and that soonshe would have no longer right to style herself "Jeanne the Maid,"and to speak with authority to princes and nobles.

  As yet she was the appointed messenger of Heaven. Her words andacts all partook of that almost miraculous character which they hadborne from the first. I will not quote the letter here; but it iswrit in the page of history; and I ask of all scholars who peruseits words, whether any village maiden of but seventeen years,unlettered, and ignorant of statecraft, could of herself compose solofty and dignified an appeal, or speak with such serene authorityto one who ranked as well-nigh the equal of kings. It was her lastact ere she donned her white armour, and passed forth from herchamber to take part in the ceremony of the coronation. In somesort it was the last of her acts per
formed whilst she was yet thedeliverer of her people.

  When I looked upon those words, long after they had been penned, Ifelt the tears rising in mine eyes. I could have wept tears ofblood to think of the fate which had befallen one whose thoughtswere ever of peace and mercy, even in the hour of her supremesttriumph.

  How can my poor pen describe the wonders of the great scene, ofwhich I was a spectator upon that day? Nay, rather will I only seekto speak of the Maid, and how she bore herself upon that greatoccasion. She would have been content with a very humble place inthe vast Cathedral today; she had no desire to bear a part in thepageant which had filled the city and packed the great edifice fromend to end.

  But the King and the people willed it otherwise. The thing whichwas about to be done was the work of the Maid, and she must bethere to see all, and the people should see her, too--see her closeto the King himself, who owed to her dauntless courage and devotionthe crown he was about to assume, the realm he had begun toconquer.

  So she stood near at hand to him all through that long, impressiveceremony--a still, almost solemn figure in her silver armour, along white velvet mantle, embroidered in silver, flowing from hershoulders, her hand grasping the staff of her great white banner,which had been borne into the Cathedral by D'Aulon, and besidewhich she stood, her hand upon the staff.

  She was bareheaded, and the many-coloured lights streamed in uponher slim, motionless figure, and the face which she lifted inadoration and thanksgiving. I trow that none in that vast assembly,who could see her as she thus stood, doubted but that she stoodthere the accredited messenger of the Most High. The light fromHeaven itself was shining on her upturned face, the reflection ofan unearthly glory beamed in her eyes. From time to time her lipsmoved, as though words of thanksgiving broke silently forth; butsave for that she scarcely moved all through the long and solemnceremony. Methinks that she saw it rather in the spirit than in theflesh; and the knights and nobles who had poured in from thesurrounding country to witness this great function, and had notcompanied with the Maid before, but had only heard of her fame fromafar, these regarded her with looks of wonder and of awe, andwhispering together, asked of each other whether in truth she werea creature of flesh and blood, or whether it were not some angelicpresence, sent down direct from Heaven.

  And so at last the King was anointed and crowned! The blare of thethousand trumpets, the acclamations of a vast multitude proclaimedthe thing done! Charles the Seventh stood before his people, theirKing, in fact as well as in name.

  The work of the Maid was indeed accomplished!