Chynon, petit ville,
Grande renom.
Its renown dates back from the
early days of our Plantagenets, when they lived in the old fortress
above its dwellings: how Henry III. died of a broken heart, and the
fame of Rabelais, will ever be associated with the ancient castle
and town. Still, the deathless interest of Chinon is owing to the
residence of the Maid of Domremy—as one has a better right to call
her than of Orleans—in those early days of her short career, in its
burgh and castle. In or near the street La Haute Rue Saint Maurice,
hard by a square which now bears the name of the heroine, Joan of
Arc arrived at noon on Sunday, the 6th of March.
It would be interesting to know
in which of the old gabled houses Joan resided during the two days
before she was admitted to enter the castle. Local tradition
reports that she dwelt with a good housewife ('chez une bonne
femme'). According to a contemporary plan of Chinon, dated 1430, a
house which belonged to a family named La Barre was where she
lodged; and although the actual house of the La Barres cannot be
identified, there are many houses in the street of Saint Maurice
old enough to have witnessed the advent of the Maid on that
memorable Sunday in the month of March 1430. Few French towns are
so rich in the domestic architecture of the better kind dating from
the early part of the fifteenth century as that of Chinon; and now
that Rouen, Orleans, and Poitiers have been so terribly modernised,
a journey to Chinon well repays the trouble. Little imagination is
required to picture the street with its crowd of courtiers and
Court hangers-on, upon their way to and from the castle above; so
mercifully have time and that far greater destroyer of things of
yore dealt with this old thoroughfare.
Two days elapsed before Joan was
admitted to the presence of the King. A council had been summoned
in the castle to determine whether the Maid should be received by
the monarch. The testimony of the knights who had accompanied the
Maid from Vaucouleurs carried the day in her favour.
While waiting to see the King, we
have from Joan's own lips a description of how her time was passed.
'I was constantly at prayers in order that God should send the King
a sign. I was lodging with a good woman when that sign was given
him, and then I was summoned to the King.'
The church in which she passed
her time in prayer was doubtless that of Saint Maurice, close by
the place at which she lodged. It owed its origin to Henry II. of
England; it is a rare and beautiful little building of good Norman
architecture, but much defaced by modern restoration. Its age is
marked by the depth at which its pavement stands, the ground rising
many feet above its present level.
A reliable account of Joan of
Arc's interview with King Charles has come down to us, as have so
many other facts in her life's history, through the witnesses
examined at the time of the heroine's rehabilitation. Foremost
among these is the testimony of a priest named Pasquerel, who was
soon to become Joan's almoner, and to accompany her in her warfare.
He tells how, when Joan was on her road to enter the castle, a
soldier used some coarse language as he saw the young Maid pass
by—some rude remark which the fellow qualified with an oath.
Turning to him, the Maid rebuked him for blaspheming, and added
that he had denied his God at the very moment in which he would be
summoned before his Judge, for that within an hour he would appear
before the heavenly throne. The soldier was drowned within the
hour. At least such is the tale as told by Priest Pasquerel.
The castle was shrouded in outer
darkness, but brilliantly lit within, as Joan entered its gates.
The King's Chamberlain, the Comte de Vendôme, received the Maid at
the entrance of the royal apartments, and ushered her into the
great gallery, of which fragments still exist—a blasted fireplace,
and sufficient remains of the original stone-work to prove that
this hall was the principal apartment in the palace. Flambeaux and
torches glowed from the roof and from the sides of this hall, and
here the Court had assembled, half amused, half serious, as to the
arrival of the peasant girl, about whom there had been so much
strange gossip stirring. Now the grass grows in wild luxuriance
over the pavement, and the ivy clings to the old walls of that
noble room, in which, perhaps, the most noteworthy of all recorded
meetings between king and subject then took place. A score of
torches held by pages lit the sides of the chamber. Before these
were ranged the knights and ladies, the latter clothed in the
fantastically rich costume of that time, with high erections on
their heads, from which floated long festoons of cloth, and
glittering with the emblems of their families on their storied
robes. The King, in order to test the divination of the Maid, had
purposely clad himself in common garb, and had withdrawn himself
behind his more brilliantly attired courtiers.
Ascending the flight of eighteen
steps which led into the hall, and following Vendôme, Joan passed
across the threshold of the hall, and, without a moment's
hesitation singling out the King at the end of the gallery, walked
to within a few paces of him, and falling on her knees before
him—'the length of a lance,' as one of the spectators
recorded—said, 'God give you good life, noble King!' ('Dieu vous
donne bonne vie, gentil Roi').
'But,' said Charles, 'I am not
the King. This,' pointing to one of his courtiers, 'is the
King.'
Joan, however, was not to be
hoodwinked, and, finding that in spite of his subterfuges he was
known, Charles acknowledged his identity, and entered at once with
Joan on the subject of her mission.
It appears, from all the
accounts which have come to us of this interview, that Charles was
at first somewhat loth to take Joan and her mission seriously. He
appears to have treated the Maid as a mere visionary; but after an
interview which the King gave her apart from the crowded gallery,
when she is supposed to have revealed to him a secret known only to
himself, his whole manner changed, and from that moment Joan
exercised a strong influence over the man, all-vacillating as was
his character. It has never been known what words actually passed
in this private interview between the pair, but the subject
probably was connected with a doubt that had long tortured the mind
of the King—namely, whether he were legitimately the heir to the
late King's throne. At any rate the impression Joan had produced on
the King was, after that conversation, a favourable one, and
Charles commanded that, instead of returning to her lodging in the
town, Joan should be lodged in the castle.
The tower which she occupied
still exists—one of the large circular towers on the third line of
the fortifications. A gloomy-looking cryptal room on the ground
floor was probably the one occupied by Joan. It goes by the name of
Belier's Tower—a knight whose wife, Anne de Maille, bore a
reputation for great goodness among the people of the Court. Close
to Belier's Tower is a chapel within another part of the castle
grounds, but the church which in those days stood hard by Joan's
tower has long since disappeared—its site is now a mass of wild
foliage.
While Joan was at Chinon, there
arrived, from his three years' imprisonment in England, the young
Duke of Anjou. Of all those who were attached to the Court and
related to the French sovereign, this young Prince was the most
sympathetic to Joan of Arc. He seems to have fulfilled the
character of some hero of romance more than any of the French
princes of that time, and Joan at once found in him a chivalrous
ally and a firm friend. That she admired him we cannot doubt, and
she loved to call him her knight.
Hurrying to Chinon, having heard
of the Maid of Domremy's arrival, he found Joan with the King. Her
enthusiasm was contagious with the young Prince, who declared how
eagerly he would help her in her enterprise.
'The more there are of the blood
royal of France to help in our enterprise the better,' answered
Joan.
Many obstacles had still to be
met before the King accorded liberty of action to the Maid. La
Tremoïlle and others of his stamp threw all the difficulties they
could suggest in the way of Joan of Arc's expedition to deliver
Orleans: these men preferred their easy life at Chinon to the
arbitrament of battle. In vain Joan sought the King and pressed him
to come to a decision: one day he said he would consent to her
progress, and the following he refused to give his consent. He
listened to the Maid, but also to the courtiers, priests, and
lawyers, and among so many counsellors he could come to no
determination.
Joan during these days trained
herself to the vocation which her career compelled her to follow.
We hear of her on one occasion surprising the King and the Court by
the dexterity with which she rode and tilted with a lance. From the
young Duke of Alençon she received the gift of a horse; and the
King carried out on a large scale what de Baudricourt had done on a
small one, by making her a gift of arms and accoutrements. Before,
however, deciding to entrust the fate of hostilities into the hands
of the Maid, it was decided that the advice and counsel of the
prelates assembled at Poitiers should be taken.
It was in the Great Hall of that
town that the French Parliament held its conferences. The moment
was critical, for should the decision of these churchmen be
favourable to Joan, then Charles could no longer have any scruples
in making use of her abilities, and of profiting by her
influence.
It was, therefore, determined
that Joan should be examined by the Parliament and clergy assembled
at Poitiers. The King in person accompanied the Maid to the
Parliament. The majestic hall, which still calls forth the
admiration of all travellers at Poitiers, is little changed in its
appearance since the time of that memorable event. It is one of the
noblest specimens of domestic architecture in France: its graceful
pillars and arched roof, and immense fireplace, remain as they were
in the early days of the fifteenth century.
Of the proceedings of that
examination unfortunately no complete report exists. Within a tower
connected with the Parliament Hall is still pointed out a little
chamber, said to have been occupied by the Maid while undergoing
this, the first of her judicial and clerical examinations. But
later investigations point to her having been lodged in a house
within the town belonging to the family of the Parliamentary
Advocate-General, Maître Jean Rabuteau.
It must have been a solemn moment
for Joan when summoned for the first time into the presence of the
Court of bishops, judges, and lawyers, whom Charles had gathered
together to examine her on her visions and on her mission. The
orders had been sent out by the King and the Archbishop of Rheims;
Gerard Machot, the Bishop of Castres and the King's confessor;
Simon Bonnet, afterwards Bishop of Senlis; and the Bishops of
Macquelonne and of Poitiers. Among the lesser dignitaries of the
Church was present a Dominican monk, named Sequier, whose account
of the proceedings, and the notes kept by Gobert Thibault, an
equerry of the King, are the only records of the examination
extant. The scantiness of these accounts is all the more to be
regretted, inasmuch as Joan frequently referred to the questions
made to her, and her answers, at this trial at Poitiers, during her
trial at Rouen; and they would probably have thrown much light on
the obscure passages of her early years, for at Poitiers she had
not to guard against hostile inquisition, and, doubtless, gave her
questioners a full and free record of her past life.
The first conference between
these prelates, lawyers, and Joan lasted two hours. At first they
appeared to doubt the Maid, but her frank and straightforward
answers to all the questions put her impressed them with the truth
of her character. They were, according to the old chronicles,
'grandement ebahis comme une ce simple bergère jeune fille pouvait
ainsi repondre.'
One of her examiners, Jean
Lombard by name, a professor of theology from the University of
Paris, in asking Joan what had induced her to visit the King, was
told she had been encouraged so to do by 'her voices'—those voices
which had taught her the great pity felt by her for the land of
France; that although at first she had hesitated to obey them, they
became ever more urgent, and commanded her to go.
'And, Joan,' then asked a doctor
of theology named William Aymeri, 'why do you require soldiers, if
you tell us that it is God's will that the English shall be driven
out of France? If that is the case, then there is no need of
soldiers, for surely, if it be God's will that the enemy should fly
the country, go they must!'
To which Joan answered: 'The
soldiers will do the fighting, and God will give the
victory!'
Sequier, whose account of the
proceedings has come down to us, then asked Joan in what language
the Saints addressed her.
'In a better one than yours,' she
answered.
Now Brother Sequier, although a
doctor of theology, had a strong and disagreeable accent which he
had brought from his native town of Limoges, and, doubtless, the
other clerks and priests tittered not a little at Joan's answer.
Sequier appears to have been somewhat irritated, and sharply asked
Joan whether she believed in God.
'Better than you do,' was the
reply; but Sequier, who is described as a 'bien aigre homme,' was
not yet satisfied, and returned to the charge. Like the Pharisees,
he wished for a sign, and he declared that he for one could not
believe in the sacred mission of the Maid, did she not show them
all a sign, nor without such a sign could he advise the King to
place any one in peril, merely on the strength of Joan's
declaration and word.
To this Joan said that she had
not come to Poitiers to show signs, but she added:—
'Let me go to Orleans, and there
you will be able to judge by the signs I shall show wherefore I
have been sent on this mission. Let the force of soldiers with me
be as small as you choose; but to Orleans I must go!'
For three weeks did these
conferences last. Nothing was neglected to discover every detail
regarding Joan's life: of her childhood, of her family and her
friends. And one of the Council visited Domremy to ferret out all
the details that could be got at. Needless to say, all that he
heard only redounded to the Maid's credit; nothing transpired which
was not honourable to the Maid's character and way of life, and in
keeping with the testimony Jean de Metz and Poulangy had given the
King at Chinon.
One day she said to one of the
Council, Pierre de Versailles, 'I believe you have come to put
questions to me, and although I know not A or B, what I do know is
that I am sent by the King of Heaven to raise the siege of Orleans,
and to conduct the King to Rheims, in order that he shall be there
anointed and crowned.'
On another occasion she addressed
the following words in a letter which John Erault took down from
her dictation—to write she knew not—to the English commanders
before Orleans: 'In the name of the King of Heaven I command you,
Suffolk [spelt in the missive Suffort], Scales [Classidas], and
Pole [La Poule], to return to England.'
One sees by the above missive
that the French spelling of English names was about as correct in
the fifteenth as it is in the nineteenth century.
What stirred the curiosity of
Joan's examiners was to try and discover whether her reported
visions and her voices were from Heaven or not. This was the
crucial question over which these churchmen and lawyers puzzled
their brains during those three weeks of the blithe spring-tide at
Poitiers. How were they to arrive at a certain knowledge regarding
those mystic portents? All the armoury of theological knowledge
accumulated by the doctors of the Church was made use of; but this
availed less than the simple answers of Joan in bringing conviction
to these puzzled pundits that her call was a heavenly one. When
they produced piles of theological books and parchments, Joan
simply said: 'God's books are to me more than all these.'
When at length it was officially
notified that the Parliament approved and sanctioned the mission of
the Maid, and that nothing against her had appeared which could in
any way detract from the faith she professed to follow out her
mission of deliverance, the rejoicing in the good town of Poitiers
was extreme. The glad news spread rapidly over the country, and
fluttered the hearts of the besieged within the walls of Orleans.
The cry was, 'When will the angelic one arrive?' The brave
Dunois—Bastard of Orleans—in command of the French in that city,
had ere this sent two knights, Villars and Jamet de Tilloy, to hear
all details about the Maid, whose advent was so eagerly looked
forward to. These messengers of Dunois had seen and spoken with
Joan, and on their return to Orleans Dunois allowed them to tell
the citizens their impressions of the Maid. Those people at Orleans
were now as enthusiastic about the deliverance as the inhabitants
at Poitiers, who had seen her daily for three weeks in their midst.
All who had been admitted to her presence left her with tears of
joy and devotion; her simple and modest behaviour, blended with her
splendid enthusiasm, won every heart. Her manner and modesty, and
the gay brightness of her answers, had also won the suffrage of the
priests and lawyers, and the military were as much delighted as
surprised at her good sense when the talk fell on subjects relating
to their trade.
It was on or about the 20th of
April 1429 that Joan of Arc left Poitiers and proceeded to Tours.
The King had now appointed a military establishment to accompany
her; and her two younger brothers, John and Peter, had joined her.
The faithful John de Metz and Bertrand de Poulangy were also at her
side. The King had selected as her esquire John d'Aulon; besides
this she was followed by two noble pages, Louis de Contes and
Raimond. There were also some men-at-arms and a couple of heralds.
A priest accompanied the little band, Brother John Pasquerel, who
was also Joan's almoner. The King had furthermore made Joan a gift
of a complete suit of armour, and the royal purse had armed her
retainers.
During her stay at Poitiers Joan
prepared her standard, on which were emblazoned the lilies of
France, in gold on a white ground. On one side of the standard was
a painting representing the Almighty seated in the heavens, in one
hand bearing a globe, flanked by two kneeling angels, each holding
a fleur-de-lis. Besides this standard, which Joan greatly prized,
she had had a smaller banner made, with the Annunciation painted on
it. This standard was triangular in form; and, in addition to those
mentioned, she had a banneret on which was represented the
Crucifixion. These three flags or pennons were all symbolic of the
Maid's mission: the large one was to be used on the field of battle
and for general command; the smaller, to rally, in case of need,
her followers around her; and probably she herself bore one of the
smaller pennons. The names 'Jesu' and 'Maria' were inscribed in
large golden letters on all the flags.
The national royal standard of
France till this period had been a dark blue, and it is not
unlikely that the awe and veneration which these white flags of the
Maid, with their sacred pictures on them, was the reason of the
later French kings adopting the white ground as their
characteristic colour on military banners.
Joan never made use of her sword,
and bore one of the smaller banners into the fight. She declared
she would never use her sword, although she attached a deep
importance to it.
'My banner,' she declared, 'I
love forty times as much as my sword!'
And yet the sword which she
obtained from the altar at Fierbois was in her eyes a sacred
weapon.