Epitaph for Three Women (34 page)

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.

‘I knew this would come,’ said Jacques. ‘It was never right. She should never have left us.’

‘It was her purpose in life,’ Zabillet answered. ‘Pray God that He will treat her well.’

The King took the news calmly. He did not know whether he should mourn or rejoice. It had been clear lately that God had deserted her for there had been no more spectacular successes. She had done as any other commander would do … no more.

The Duke of Burgundy was excited. Exultantly he sent messengers to all those to whom the news would be of the utmost interest. The Maid captured and in the hands of the Count of Luxembourg – a vassal of his. What should be done with her? As a prisoner taken in battle she should be treated with some respect. She should be ransomed as such people were. Ransomed! Some would pay a big ransom for her. The King of France? He owed it to her to pay her ransom and set her free. God knew she had done enough for him. Bedford would be itching to get his hands on her for while she lived and went into battle his men would always be afraid of her. The citizens of Orléans should ransom her if they could afford the price. She had done much for them.

How had she been captured? wondered Burgundy. Guillaume de Flavy had drawn up the bridge and let down the portcullis knowing she was on the wrong side of it, exposed to her enemies. And Guillaume de Flavy – the half-brother of Regnault – had been brought up by him. Had Flavy been doing his half-brother a favour?

Well, however it happened it was done; and Burgundy must turn it to good account.

The citizens of Orléans were stunned. The people gathered in the streets chanting the Miserere; in Tours and Blois many walked barefoot to the shrines of the saints. They could not understand why God should have deserted His messenger. It was a further sign, they assured each other. She would miraculously escape, and that would be yet another display of Divine protection.

Georges de la Trémoïlle was in a state of great delight. This was indeed good fortune for him. He suspected Regnault since it was his half-brother who had shut her out and left her to her enemies. Good work, he thought. He went to the King at once and they discussed the news. He pretended to be grave.

‘She is in the hands of Burgundy, not the English,’ Trémoïlle pointed out.

‘The English will endeavour to get her into their hands.’

‘It was a risk she took and if she was really sent by God He will protect her. She was always rash. Never listening to advice – always going her own way.’

Charles was uneasy. He had so much for which to thank her. When she had come to him and read the suspicion of his illegitimacy in his mind and had reassured him, he had known she had Divine powers. She had saved Orléans; she had had him crowned at Rheims. It worried his conscience that she had fallen into the hands of her enemies.

Trémoïlle knew his royal master well. Charles was worried. He might try to act – or at least he was thinking about it. He would be expected to act. The people would demand it of him. He would find all sorts of reasons why this or that could not be done, of course, but it was a dangerous situation.

Fate played into Trémoïlle’s hands. Perhaps it was natural that after the impact Jeannette had made on the people of France imitators should spring up here and there.

Before Jeannette’s capture a matron named Catherine de la Rochelle had declared that she too had had visions. She too had been selected by Divine Powers to partake in the salvation of France. She wanted to tour France and explain that a vision had come to her at night – a lady dressed in cloth of gold who had told her that she must exhort the population to bring their treasures from their secret store and give them to the King of France to prosecute the war. She had met Jeannette, and Jeannette had dismissed her as a fraud. So, reasoned Trémoïlle, Catherine de la Rochelle might be useful now.

A shepherd boy was brought to him. This Guillaume of Gevaudan had had the signs of the stigmata on his hands. He said that it had been revealed to him that God had suffered Jeannette to fall into the hands of her enemies because she had become hardened by pride. She had grown to love fine armour and beautiful horses so well that she had lost sight of the fact that she was working for God.

As for Catherine de la Rochelle, she was ready to swear that Jeannette was a witch. She had seen her in visions having intercourse with the Devil.

These facts Trémoïlle could lay before the King, and Charles’ conscience was only too ready to be eased.

The Duke of Bedford could scarcely contain his excitement. Earnestly he discussed the matter of the Maid’s capture with the Earls of Warwick and Suffolk.

‘It’s the best piece of news I’ve heard for a long time,’ declared Suffolk.

‘It would have been better if she had fallen into our hands instead of Luxembourg’s,’ commented Bedford wryly.

‘Which,’ added Warwick, ‘is tantamount to falling into Burgundy’s hands.’

‘What will Luxembourg do, think you?’ asked Warwick.

‘You know that grasping one-eyed Count. He’ll ransom her.’

‘You think the French … ?’

‘My lord,’ said Bedford firmly, ‘we must see that the French do not pay that ransom, and the only way we can do it is by paying a higher one ourselves.’

‘I agree,’ said Warwick. ‘We must get the Maid into our hands.’

‘And prove her to be a witch,’ added Bedford firmly.

‘Our troubles will continue until she is removed,’ agreed Warwick. ‘I’ve no doubt of that. It is not her skill in war – though that is remarkable for a simple country girl. But the French believe her to be God’s messenger. And for that reason they fight as never before.’