‘You must know, sir,’ said Jeannette, ‘that God has told me His will and that is that I must go to the gentle Dauphin who is the true and only King of France, that he may give me fighting men that I may go to Orléans and raise the siege. Then I shall take him to Rheims to be crowned.’
Baudricourt was amazed. Jeannette was so precise in her demands, and they were quite preposterous. A girl go to the Dauphin, take men and lead them against the English outside Orléans!
How could a young girl live with rough soldiers? It was not difficult to guess what would become of her … And if she failed they would laugh at him as a fool for believing in such nonsense. If she succeeded they would say she owed it to witchcraft. He did not think for one moment that the girl was a witch but a woman did not have to be a witch to be accused of being one.
The Court was at Chinon. What would they think of him if he sent a girl to them?
And yet on the other hand … some people believed in miracles. He had been considerably impressed by the views of Poulengy and Jean de Metz. Those two – hardened soldiers both of them – were ready to believe that Jeannette had powers from Heaven!
And what if she had?
He listened to the girl; he talked to her; he tried to trap her, and found that it was impossible. She was simple and direct; she made no mistakes.
He had always found that in such a situation delaying tactics were the wise ones to take.
He would see Jeannette – certainly he would. She should talk to him every day. Meanwhile it might be well that Chinon would hear of her and send for her. What a happy solution that would be. No responsibility to be taken by him.
In the meantime her friendship with Catherine Royer was growing. They would sit spinning together and Catherine was greatly impressed by Jeannette’s skill. She half wished that Jeannette would give up this project of hers and settle in Vaucouleurs. Catherine could foresee many a happy hour exchanging skills.
But Jeannette was getting more and more restive. It had at first seemed wonderful that Baudricourt had seen her and listened to her with respect. Now she was realising that he was playing a game of prevarication.
One day as she went once more to talk to Baudricourt she came face to face with Jean de Metz and Bertrand de Poulengy.
‘Good day to you,’ said Bertrand, bowing with respect. ‘So you are back with us.’
‘What are you doing here in Vaucouleurs?’ asked Jean de Metz.
‘I have come to stop the King of France being driven from his throne and to save this country from the English. You may think my place is in my father’s cottage but it is the will of my Lord that I should be here.’
‘What Lord?’ asked Jean de Metz.
‘The Lord God,’ answered Jeannette.
‘I believe you,’ said Bertrand de Poulengy.
‘Thank you,’ said Jeanette and passed on.
There was another fruitless interview with Baudricourt. She went back to the wheelwright’s house in despair.
‘Durand,’ she said, ‘I shall go by myself because I see I shall find little satisfaction from Baudricourt. Will you come with me?’
Durand hesitated. He had come so far. He had left his home and brought her to Vaucouleurs. She would never make the journey to Chinon on her own, he pointed out. She needed an escort. Did she think the Dauphin would ever receive her if she arrived footsore and weary … a peasant girl? The project was doomed to failure. And he had been long from his family.
Then Jeannette had an idea. She remembered the two young men with whom she had spoken. She went to find them. They were together as though waiting for her.
‘Will you take me to the Dauphin?’ she asked.
‘When do you wish to start?’ asked Jean de Metz.
‘Today if possible. If not, tomorrow.’
‘We will take you,’ said Poulengy, ‘but we are under orders to Captain de Baudricourt and must first give him our resignations.’
‘When will you do that?’ asked Jeannette.
‘Now,’ said Jean de Metz. ‘Go back to your lodging and prepare.’
Jeannette obeyed and the two men went at once to Baudricourt. They told him of the conversation which had taken place and of their intentions.
Baudricourt looked at them solemnly. ‘You are rash, gentlemen,’ he said.
‘I swear this girl is a saint,’ retorted Poulengy.
‘I feel sure she is a good girl,’ said Baudricourt. ‘She has the outward guise of a good girl. But these guises could come from the devil. There is none who more than I would wish to see the siege of Orléans raised, the Dauphin crowned and the English driven back where they belong. But how do you know, gentlemen? How can you be sure?’
‘I would stake my life on her honesty,’ said Jean de Metz.
‘You are over ready to stake your life, my good fellow. Make sure. Get the Curé to make a test before you commit yourself. Then take her. There will be no harm done and it may be that the Dauphin will consent to see her.’
In due course Baudricourt persuaded them that at least Jeannette should be put to the test and consequently the Curé visited the Royer household and in the room which Jeannette occupied confronted her in all the vestments of his office, holding the cross before him. He commanded her to come forward if she were indeed virtuous. This Jeannette did and convinced them that she had no traffic with the Devil as she was able to approach the priest and take the cross in her hands and kiss it.
While she was waiting to leave, a summons came from the Duke of Lorraine in Nancy. She was overjoyed. Her fame had travelled before her and now the Duke of Lorraine himself had sent an escort to bring her to him.
She set out at once and was full of hope when she reached the ducal castle in Nancy and was told that the Duke was all impatience to see her. She was taken immediately to his apartments. She had never been in such sumptuously decorated rooms. Indeed she had never imagined there could be such grandeur in the world. The Duke was a very important man and could take her immediately to the Dauphin.
She was led into an apartment hung with rich velvets and there seated on an ornate chair was the shrivelled figure of the Duke. He was wrapped in a cloak of purple velvet and seated on a stool; at his feet was a woman, the immodesty of whose attire shocked Jeannette so utterly that she was for a moment speechless.
‘You are the maid who is known as Jeannette d’Arc?’ said the Duke. His voice was the softest and most melodious Jeannette had ever heard but her spirits were drooping lower at every moment. This man – Duke though he might be – did not have the air of one who would lead a crusade.
‘You have magical powers, I hear,’ went on the Duke. ‘News of you has travelled here to Nancy.’
Jeannette had found her voice. ‘My Lord Duke,’ she cried, ‘I have no powers save those given me by Heaven. I am sent with a purpose and that is to take the Dauphin to Rheims and there have him crowned.’
The Duke did not seem to be listening.
‘I am no longer young,’ he said. ‘Ah, how I miss my youth.’
‘My lord,’ said Jeannette, ‘I see that you would be unable to lead me to Chinon. But you have a son-in-law, I know, René of Anjou, the great Duke of Bar.’
The Duke looked testy. ‘What is the wench talking about?’ he asked.
The woman on the stool was laughing, and Jeannette said: ‘My Lady Duchess …’
‘The Duchess has gone,’ she said. ‘He could not endure her pious ways. I’m Duchess here now. He’s getting old, you see. That’s why he has sent for you. He wants to be able to frolic like he used to. You understand?’
Jeannette recoiled in horror. She thought of the weary journey to Nancy and she knew it had been in vain.