And so we continued in our blissful existence. It may have been that every day seemed more precious to us because somewhere, at the back of our minds, we knew it could not last.
How long should I be able to live secure with my family in this cocoon of secrecy?
There was strange news from France. Everyone in the house was talking about it. It was a miracle, some said. It was a wild rumor, said the more prosaic, put about by the French, who hoped to glean some advantage from it. They must indeed be alarmed to try such methods, said others.
Owen had discovered what it was all about.
“It’s a peasant girl,” he said. “She declares she hears voices which give her commands from Heaven. Apparently she is told by these voices that France will be strong again, and the English will be driven out of every part of the country.”
“And the French believe this?”
“They were skeptical at first, naturally. An uneducated peasant girl from a place called Domrémy…working on her father’s little bit of land…tending the sheep…such a girl to lead the armies of France! You would say the girl was mad…would you not?”
“And they do not?”
“It is strange. Apparently she has a way with her. She has accomplished all sorts of difficult tasks. Who would have thought a girl like that could have encountered anything but ridicule?”
“And what has she encountered?”
“She persuaded the Governor of Vaucouleurs to arrange for her to have an interview with the Dauphin.”
“My brother saw her!”
“Yes. The story is that the men tried to poke fun at her. They took her to Chinon and into a room where the Dauphin was. They took her to one of his friends, telling her that he was the Dauphin and asking her to say what she had to say to him. But she knew they were deceiving her…and she went straight to the Dauphin and would speak to none but him.”
I was trying to visualize my brother Charles. It was so long since I had seen him. To me he was still the little brother, the youngest among us…following us around with that bewildered look on his little face. I knew he had not wished to be Dauphin. Jean had not wanted that rôle either. The prospect of a crown had been thrust upon them. And what of Charles now? What was it like to be a Dauphin but no Dauphin…robbed of his crown which now belonged to my little Henry? What did he think of me…living in the enemy’s camp? What did he think of my mother who had given her allegiance to the conqueror…passing over his crown to my little Henry…agreeing that it should be taken from her own son! Of course, that had made it better for her…to stand with the conqueror rather than the defeated; and when had she ever thought of her family? Her only concern had been for her own comfort.
It was difficult to imagine my brother Charles confronted by this strange young girl who came with messages from Heaven.
“And he received her?” I murmured. “This peasant girl!”
“It seems she overawed him as she had others.”
“Can it be that she is indeed a messenger from Heaven?”
Owen said: “There is undoubtedly a strange quality about her. They say there is a certain radiance…a fearlessness…an indifference to ridicule. Her faith shines through her. She believes she has been selected from on high to be the savior of France.”
“The army will soon put an end to that.”
I wanted to talk about the progress Edmund was making.
“We shall have to move from Hadham,” I said. “For one thing the sweetening is becoming very necessary.”
“We have been here so long. It is a pity. It is an ideal place.”
“What think you of Hatfield? That would be possible.”
In due course we decided to go to Hatfield.
Guillemote was very interested in the news which was coming from France. Naturally she had a great love for her native land. She had always been loyal to me, and during those days when I had had to adjust myself to a new country, her presence had helped me a great deal. Because I had been the wife of an English king, I had regarded myself as belonging to my husband’s country; I understood that this was something Guillemote could never do.
She was very intrigued by what she heard of the woman they called “The Maid.” I supposed the story of Joan of Arc was one which would arouse interest anywhere. A young peasant girl of no education to whom Heaven had sent voices commanding her to drive the invader from her tortured country!
It was a ridiculous fancy. Or so it seemed.
Guillemote had served me faithfully all my life, but I think at this time patriotic fervor stirred within her and she dreamed of marching side by side with The Maid.
Her eyes glowed when she talked of her.
“There is an old prophecy,” she said. “France would be ruined by a wicked woman and saved by a virgin maid.”
The wicked woman, she implied, was my mother; and now here was The Maid.
Had there been such a prophecy? I wondered. Or were people telling themselves they had heard it at their mothers’ knees?
I had never heard it. But then should I have done so during my days at the Hôtel de St.-Paul and later in the sequestered atmosphere of Poissy? I was sure that many such prophecies were brought to light after the event which proved them to be true.
Little had been proved yet of this one, except that The Maid had seen my brother and had aroused in him a love of country to replace his hitherto languid acceptance of defeat.
And the people believed The Maid. Men were ready to fight beside her with new energy and purpose, because they were certain that God was their ally and that therefore they must prevail.
Then something happened to make all this seem unimportant to me. I was once more pregnant. I was filled with joy. Another child! And this time there would not be the same anxiety. I was surrounded by devoted friends. We had managed with Edmund, and we should know how to do so with a new child.
Owen was delighted and, although Guillemote pursed her lips and shook her head and wondered whether I was sufficiently recovered from the birth of Edmund, I could see that she, too, was overjoyed at the prospect of a new baby.
I suppose I should have been more interested in what was going on, but my mind was wholly absorbed by thoughts of my coming child. So I did not ask myself what was happening at the siege of Orléans and if The Maid and her heavenly allies would succeed against the all-conquering English, but “Will the child be a girl or a boy?”
The journey from Hadham to Hatfield was a little trying. I rode some of the way because I did not want to arouse suspicions regarding my state of health, but Guillemote insisted that when I looked tired I should take to a litter.
I must say I was glad to see the walls of the palace before me and to pass under the gateway. I was exhausted by the journey, and Guillemote insisted on my getting to bed without delay.
My ladies were bustling around me to make sure that everything was in order.
There was an element of danger in moving to a new place. We had had everything arranged to our satisfaction in Hadham. Here there would be new servants, and servants talk.
I knew that I could trust Owen and my devoted friends to make sure that we were as safe as we possibly could be.
I needed to rest for several days after the journey.
“It has been too much for you,” said Guillemote. “I am wondering whether it wouldn’t have been better to have stayed at Hadham…sweetening or not.”
“A foul place would have been no good for the baby,” I reminded her. “And we had been there too long already.”
“Nor was the journey any good for the baby,” retorted Guillemote.
However, all seemed to be well, and after a rest I felt in good health.
Hatfield Place is a beautiful residence, grander than Hadham, and perhaps for that reason I had felt safer at the latter. We were nineteen miles north of London, which did not seem very far. I loved the long gallery and the chapel, which had some of the most attractive stained-glass windows I had ever seen. I liked to sit there and pray, with the light streaming through onto the dark oak floor. I would thank God for giving me the blessing of marriage to a good man, for my son Edmund and for the child I soon hoped to have. I was fortunate. And what I prayed for was to go on in my peaceful happy home, with my husband and children around me…free from danger.