The Dauphin was surrounded by his advisers, the chief of whom was Georges de la Trémoïlle – a coward of a man but sly and shrewd. He looked like a great barrel so fat was he. He was vicious, and a man to be watched for those who offended him had a way of disappearing from the scene. He was always at the Dauphin’s side and his word carried weight.

It was disconcerting to men such as he was to see so much adulation given to an ignorant country girl.

It suited La Trémoïlle to see the Dauphin weak, depending on him; he had always advised a policy of shilly-shally.

So when Jeannette urged them to make the journey to Rheims La Trémoïlle, with the Chancellor Regnault de Chartres, strongly opposed her.

‘There are not enough troops nor money for such a journey,’ they insisted; and the Dauphin following his long habit listened to them. Delay was part of his nature, no less than theirs. He dreaded change. It was wonderful to have achieved this victory but now he was realising that it was rousing him out of his lethargy. Did he want that?

Jeannette was not easily brushed aside. She sought the Dauphin in his private apartments and none dare stop her. If Trémoïlle and Regnault despised her, others in the King’s entourage did not. They had for her an awesome respect.

She fell onto her knees before him, and told him that it was imperative that they leave at once. Her voices were urging her. Her voices must be obeyed. He must come to Rheims.

‘There are too many obstacles,’ he told her. ‘There are towns still in the hands of the English. Do you not see that they will be doubly fortified … after Orléans.’

‘I see only that we must go to Rheims. My voices demand it, sire, and they must be obeyed.’

At length hers was the voice that convinced him and the Dauphin with his Court and an army of twelve thousand set out for Rheims.

There were difficulties along the road. Jeannette had known there would be. At the town of Troyes it was particularly disheartening for there was a garrison there consisting of six hundred English and Burgundians. They would not lightly surrender.

Of course Trémoïlle and Regnault pointed out that they had no provisions to mount a siege. There was only one thing to do and that was to turn back.

‘No, no!’ insisted Jeannette. ‘Oh, my gentle Dauphin, listen to God who speaks through me. Wait here before your town of Troyes and by love or force within the space of a few days I will make it yours.’

Jeannette prepared for battle. She was camped outside the walls and the following day she donned her armour, mounted her horse and carrying her banner rode forth crying that she came in the name of the Lord God.

There was no fighting. Within the city there was a call of ‘We surrender’ and the townspeople came out declaring that they would not resist the Maid.

She rode into the town side by side with the Dauphin. She was triumphant while Trémoïlle and his friends murmured that it could have gone the other way.

Dunois came to her with great emotion shining in his eyes. ‘You are indeed God’s messenger,’ he said.

‘You know it now, my lord,’ she said. ‘Make good use of me while I am here for I shall not be here much longer.’

Dunois seized her arm and said earnestly: ‘Why do you talk thus? What do you fear?’

‘Treachery,’ she said. ‘I feel it in the air. It is that which will destroy me.’

‘Jeannette, you know you are going to die. When?’

‘I do not know when, but that it will come I know full well. I am at the will of God and I shall accomplish what I have been commanded to do. I raised the siege of Orléans; I must now see the Dauphin crowned at Rheims. When that is done … it may be my work will be also.’

‘Pray God, Jeannette, that He will preserve you.’

She smiled at him. ‘I would like it well if He sent me back to my mother and father. I would like to tend the sheep again and know that my work is done.’

Dunois turned away. He was surprised at his emotion. He was fond of her, not as a mystic – he was not even sure that he believed whole-heartedly in that – but because she was simple and humble and … he sought for a word to describe her. He thought, It is Good. Jeannette is good with a goodness rare in men and women.

The army was camped some ten miles from Rheims. Trémoïlle declared the town would stand out against them.

‘Not so, my lord,’ replied Jeannette. ‘You will see that the leading citizens will come out of the city bringing the keys to the Dauphin.’

And this was what happened for no sooner was the cavalcade in sight of Rheims when the leading citizens came out as Jeannette had said they would and they had the keys of the city in their hands. Eagerly they were awaiting the arrival of the Maid with the Dauphin and within a few days he should be crowned King of France.


* * *

It was the custom in France for its Kings to be crowned on a Sunday and the people of Rheims were determined that this should be observed. All through the Saturday of the 16th of July they were making their preparations. They knew that their Dauphin had taken up his residence at the Castle of Sept-Saulx some ten miles outside the town.

At nine o’clock in the morning Charles came into the church and beside him was Jeannette. It was what the people expected. It was because of her that he was here and if there were some who deplored it, still it must be.

His magnificent robes were open at the neck and shoulders in preparation for the ceremonial anointing which would signify that he was being endowed with renown, glory and wisdom. He stood before the high Altar and with him were the Duke of Alençon and the Counts of Clermont and Vendôme.

The anointing oil, contained in the Holy Ampulla, a crystal flask which had been brought out from the tomb of the Apostle, was said to have been used by the Blessed Rémi at the anointing of King Clovis.

Jeannette watched the proceedings with jubilation. This was the climax. This was where her Voices had led her. It was the moment of fulfilment and the happiest in her life.

The Archbishop had taken the crown from the altar – not alas the crown of Charlemagne with its rubies, sapphires and emeralds decorated with fleur-de-lis, for the royal ornaments were all in the hands of the English and were said to be at St Denis.

That mattered not. It was the act of crowning which was important and the Dauphin was now in truth King Charles the Seventh.

The trumpets were sounding, and the people shouting: ‘Noel! Noel!’

Jeannette came forward and knelt at his feet. Tears were streaming from her eyes.

‘Sweet King,’ she cried, ‘now is God’s pleasure done. It was His will that I should raise the siege of Orléans and bring you to this city of Rheims to receive your holy anointing, making it known that you are indeed the true King and telling the world to whom this fair realm of France belongs.’

The King lightly touched her head with his fingers and the people cried out in their joy.

‘Vive le roi. Noel! Noel!’

The King then moved on to his banquet which would be held in traditional fashion in the old hall of Tau. The table had been extended into the street so that there might be feasting for all. There would be free food and free drink and hundreds of sheep, chickens and oxen had been slaughtered. There was Beaune and Burgundy for everyone.

Dunois was watching Jeannette with affection. She had achieved a miracle. She should be content now. She should go back to the country and live peacefully for the rest of her days. Let her go back to the simple life, perhaps take a husband, look after a household, have children. She was as skilled in the crafts of the home as she had become in those of war.

This was no life for a young girl. She had been called on to perform a miracle and that was what she had done.

‘Jeannette,’ he said, ‘you know the inn called Ane Rayé. You should go there. I think you will find something to interest you.’

She looked at him in surprise. She knew he understood that she had no feeling for the revelries which must follow the coronation.

‘What shall I find there?’ she asked.

‘I will take you,’ he said, ‘and you shall see for yourself.’

People made a path for her and the Bastard of Orléans. Eyes followed the Maid and she was treated to an awed silence; but today was the King’s day. The miracle was over; now they would enjoy the fruits of it. Rich red meat. Flowing wine. The Maid had done well; they loved the Maid. But this was the day to eat, drink and carouse and sing Vive le Roi.

She could not believe her eyes when she walked into the inn. In a matter of seconds she was in her mother’s arms. Her father was standing by; and there were her brothers Jean, Pierrelot and her cousin’s husband, Durand Laxart.

Releasing herself from her mother’s arms she faced them all.

Her father took her hands and kissed them. ‘I have come to ask pardon,’ he said.

She shook her head, her emotions threatening to choke her. ‘My father, you understand now. I had to do what I did. I had to hurt you. It was a command from Heaven.’

‘You saved Orléans. You are a friend of the King …’ That was Pierrelot. ‘I can’t believe it even though I have seen it with my own eyes.’

‘We are so proud of you,’ Jean told her.

Jeannette turned to Durand Laxart who was standing a little apart.

‘So much I owe to you,’ she said. ‘I shall never forget that. You helped me when I needed help. God will reward you.’

‘I believed in you … from the first,’ Durand told her.

‘And we were the ones who rejected you,’ cried Jacques. ‘May God forgive us.’

‘He will. He has already done so,’ said Jeannette. ‘What you did, you did for love of me. It was what any father would have done.’

‘How were we to know that our sister Jeannette was to be the saviour of Orléans?’ cried Jean.

‘And now we are here, let us be happy together,’ said Jeannette. ‘There is so much I want to know. How are matters in Domrémy?’

‘We are all so proud … so proud …’ murmured her mother.

‘And Mengette … and Hauviette?’

‘They await news of you. Poor little Hauviette, she was heart-broken when you went …’

‘I knew she would be. It was the reason why I could not say good-bye. My dear little Hauviette. Take my love to her. Tell her to be happy. Tell her I think of her … often.’

‘She will be so pleased that you remembered her,’ said Zabillet.

‘Remember her! Hauviette! As if I should ever forget her!’

‘You have so many matters to occupy you.’

‘There would always be a place for Hauviette.’

‘Come let us sit down,’ said Jean. ‘I have ordered a little food and wine.’

So while the people of Rheims were feasting in the streets and the King in the banqueting hall, Jeannette sat down to a simple supper with her family. They were amazed at how little she ate. She wanted nothing but small pieces of bread soaked in wine. She had grown accustomed to such fare, she told them; and she needed little else.

Pierrelot tried to coax her to eat.

‘Hush you,’ said Zabillet. ‘You should know it is no use trying to persuade Jeannette when she has made up her mind.’

Later her father took her on one side and whispered to her that there was a matter of some concern to Domrémy and he wished to speak to her about it.

She listened attentively while he went on: ‘We are as poor as ever, and you know what that means. We are finding it hard to meet the new demands from the treasury. The villagers have begged me to have a word with you to ask if you could persuade the King to give us exemption from the new tax. You are his friend they say. You have given him his crown. Will he give your native village this concession if you ask for it?’

‘I know he will,’ said Jeannette. ‘Rest assured I shall ask him.’

Jacques looked greatly relieved. He had made this journey chiefly to make this request. He wanted to see Jeannette in her glory, of course, but he was still a little suspicious of it. Her strangeness had worried him a great deal and that she, his humble daughter, should have been selected for such a task still seemed like some sort of necromancy. He had heard it whispered in some quarters that she was a witch. That would be the final degradation. But to see her, so radiant, so self-effacing, so beloved of the people and respected by great men such as the Bastard of Orléans and the King himself, lulled his fear though not entirely.