Виктория Холт - Epitaph for Three Women

He was greatly relieved when the King decreed that Domrémy and Greux should be exempt from all tallies, aids, subsidies and subventions. He said also that the family’s expenses should be paid and that they should be provided with horses to take them back to Domrémy.

When they said good-bye, Zabillet clung to her daughter.

‘Jeannette,’ she murmured, ‘why do you not come back with us? You have done your work. This is what you set out to do, was it not? You saved Orléans for the French and had the King crowned at Rheims. What else is there for you, Jeannette?’

‘I shall not be happy, dear mother, until there is not a single Godon left in France.’

‘Jeannette, God has guarded you so far. Come home now.’

Jeannette shook her head.

‘God rest you, dear mother. Go and live in peace. I shall know what I must do when the time comes.’

Zabillet sighed. As she said earlier to Pierrelot, it was no use trying to persuade Jeannette.

LATER, in her darkest moments she believed that she should have gone. That was the moment … the time of glory. She had accomplished her mission. She had obeyed the commands of Heaven. She had been the instrument through which God had imposed His Will.

Why did she stay? Was she a little intoxicated by glory? Had she come to believe herself not merely that instrument but the possessor of divine powers? She had seen a miracle come from her work; she had heard the acclamation of the crowds. In Rheims at the time of the coronation the poor had come to kneel at her feet. They asked only to touch her hands, to touch the hem of her garment. Great men had bowed to her, listened to her, followed her wishes, showed their respect for her. The Bastard of Orléans, the Duc d’Alençon, the Sire de Gamaches, the King himself – had all treated her with something like reverence. Had the sin of pride come very close to her? She had stressed her humility, her origins, her lack of education … But even in that was there a touch of pride?

How could she tell? It was easy to look back afterwards and say: I should have done this. I should not have done that. If … If …

She believed now that she had a further mission. She would not rest until every Englishman had been driven from the shores of France. Perhaps having accomplished one seemingly impossible mission she must have another.

‘Come back with us to Domrémy,’ her mother had said. ‘You have done what God commanded.’

Should she have listened? It was easy to say ‘Yes’ … looking back.

There were many who loved her; but there were others who hated her. Rich, powerful people there were who wanted to destroy her. The King was her friend … but what was the friendship of kings ever worth, and Charles the Seventh had never shown himself as a steadfast character. There was the wily Duke of Burgundy, who was the ally of the English while not averse to a little flirtation with the French and ready to jump whichever way was best for Burgundy. He hated the King because he had instigated the murder of John the Fearless, the last Duke, and that was something which the present Duke Philip could never forget.

And did she think the great Duke of Bedford would stand quietly by and see his armies defeated by a peasant girl from Domrémy?

There were enemies closer to her. There was Georges de la Trémoïlle – as treacherous a man as ever lived. His father had been attached to the Duke of Burgundy and Georges had been brought up at that Court with Duke Philip. It was not unlikely that Georges would still retain a certain liaison with his boyhood companion; and the Duke would deem it beneficial to have a man who must feel some friendship for him living so close to his enemy the King.

Georges de la Trémoïlle was unscrupulous in the extreme – a man who would not hesitate to murder. His treatment of his first wife had created a scandal at one time. He had married her, taken all she possessed and then driven her from his house. She had died as the result of the condition into which he had forced her. His reason for getting rid of her was that he had his eyes on another woman who was both comely and extremely wealthy and he thought it would be not only pleasant to marry her but profitable also.

It had not been a difficult matter for Trémoïlle, favourite as he was with the King, to arrange for the murder of the lady’s husband and marry her himself.

Such a man would have no scruples and little difficulty in removing Jeannette, once her great popularity had died down. It would be dangerous, of course, to do it at the time when she was regarded almost as a saint throughout the country and had many friends in high places.

But Trémoïlle had always been a man who knew how to wait.

Regnault de Chartres, the Chancellor, could easily be handled by him. Regnault, Bishop of Rheims, was a man of ambition and he sought to satisfy that, as so many had before him, through the Church. He hated Jeannette. If God had wanted to guide the King to Rheims, why should He have chosen a simple country girl to do it when the Bishop of Rheims was standing by?

He wanted to get rid of Jeannette but like Trémoïlle he realised that they must wait until the tumult was over.

He and Trémoïlle were aware that the two most important men in the country were Burgundy and Bedford; Bedford was going to find some means of staining Jeannette’s image. He had to. It was the belief in her supernatural gifts which had defeated his army. It was not force of arms which had raised the siege of Orléans. It was fear of the powers of light or of darkness – it mattered not which, they were both equally effective for striking fear into men.

Moreover Burgundy was not going to stand by and see Charles victorious. As soon as he was free of his present commitments he would spring into action.

As for King Charles, they had little respect for him. They would know how to handle him when the time came.

Jeannette was now planning to march on Paris. She knew that until the capital was in French hands there could be no true victory. The girl had learned her military tactics well, they had to admit. She wanted to march on Paris and take it for the King while both Trémoïlle and Regnault saw that if she succeeded in this it would be impossible to destroy Jeannette. What they wanted was to gain Paris through negotiations – their negotiations – and they believed this should be done through an alliance with Burgundy.

Charles hated bloodshed and it should not be difficult to make him listen.

Jeannette knew very well that the Duke of Burgundy was the enemy of the King of France. He would always regard him as his father’s murderer and if anyone reminded him that Louis of Orléans had been murdered at the instigation of a Duke of Burgundy that made no difference.

Thus Jeannette had powerful people working against her. Moreover her voices rarely came to her now. When she was involved in a skirmish, sometimes she was successful, at other times not. She was filled with a burning desire to drive the Godons from France, but secretly she was beginning to wonder whether God no longer desired her services.

With the people she was still Jeannette, the wonder girl from Domrémy who had achieved miracles. It would take a little time for such a reputation to be destroyed, but many had short memories. Already it seemed the King did not listen to her with the same respect. His advisers Trémoïlle and Regnault had his ear; and she did not like what was going on. Sometimes she was very depressed; she longed to hear her voices and they did not come. She followed the King from Château-Thierry to Senlis, from Blois to Compiègne. She was obsessed by her devotion to him and to France. But she missed the divine inspiration. She had become a good commander; but so were Dunois, Alençon and a score of others; and they had not been able to save Orléans.

The Duke of Bedford had brought five hundred of his dreaded archers to Paris. One division of his army there carried a standard on which was embossed a distaff and a spindle. ‘Now, fair one, come!’ was its inscription. Jeannette was eager to attack Paris and she still had influential supporters. One was the Duc d’Alençon who had complete faith in her. However the attack failed.

Then the English left Paris in the hands of the Duke of Burgundy – a signal to the French that he was their trusted ally – and Jeannette was forced to retreat to Compiègne where she made the acquaintance of the garrison captain there, Guillaume de Flavy. It was only later that she discovered he was Regnault’s half-brother and had been brought up by him.

She was uneasy. She knew that Trémoïlle and Regnault were in secret communication with Burgundy. She mistrusted Burgundy and she begged them to do the same. ‘There can be no peace with him except at the point of a lance,’ she insisted.

It was May of the year 1430. Almost a year had passed since the crowning of the King and they were no nearer driving the English from France than they had been at that time. Jeannette had gone on an expedition to Crépy and while she was there news was brought to her that Burgundy was laying siege to Compiègne.

‘We must return at once,’ she said. ‘We must fight our way into the town.’

She was reminded that they were only three hundred or so strong – a small company to fight its way through Burgundy’s forces; and when at daybreak she came in sight of Compiègne and the besiegers did not attempt to stop her entering the town, she thought she had recovered her old inspiration.

She went at once to the church of St Jacques, convinced by her easy entry into the town that she was back in grace and was receiving help from Heaven.

People thronged about her and followed her into the church where she heard Mass. And as the children gathered round her touching her armour and seeking the honour of having spoken to the Maid, she heard herself saying – and it was as though a voice spoke within her: ‘Children and dear friends, soon I shall be betrayed and delivered over to death. Pray for me.’

A great depression settled on her then. She knew that it was her voices who had been with her so little of late who had spoken in the church.

Nevertheless that evening she wanted to make a sortie out of the town and in spite of the feeling of despair which had come to her she was eager to go on with her plans.

She commanded Guillaume de Flavy to have boats ready on the river Oise to help the troops return and to see that all the gates of the town were securely locked and only the bridge gate left open.

Very quickly it was realised that the venture was a failure.

‘We must retreat,’ shouted the men.

But Jeannette would not retreat. ‘Never!’ she cried. ‘Let us stand and fight.’

‘We are lost if we do,’ was the rejoinder. The men had suddenly realised that it was only a peasant girl who was asking them to risk their lives. It had been all very well when God was with her but clearly He was not involved in this. It was folly to stay, they believed, and they were not going to do so. They scrambled into the waiting boats.

Jeannette held off the enemy who would prevent the troops escaping, until the boats had taken them to the drawbridge and they all passed into safety. She was left outside with one or two faithful supporters.

Guillaume de Flavy made a decision. He knew she was outside. So were the Burgundians and they were ready to storm the town. He ordered that the drawbridge be pulled up and the portcullis let down.

Jeannette, left outside, was soon surrounded.

There was a shout of: ‘The Maid. We have the Maid.’

Someone pulled at her surcoat. She was down. They surrounded her.

‘Yield,’ cried one of them.

She was beaten. It had come to pass as she had known it would. This was her destiny, and she must face it with courage.

One of the men who was different from the rough soldiery bade her rise. She must go with him and he would take her to his master, Count John of Luxembourg.

The cry went up: ‘We have the Maid. She is in our hands.’

This was the end of the miracles, for how could God let His chosen one fall among her enemies?

She was praying silently as they led her away.

* * *

The news spread rapidly through the country. It was received with exultation and with sorrow. There was lamentation in the village of Domrémy.