“You would be near me.”
“I would so rarely see you.”
“I wish …”
“Tell me what you wish. You are the King. It should not be so difficult for you to achieve.”
“What I wish no one could give me. I wish my father would come alive, and then I should not have to be the King.”
My poor Henry, weighed down with honors which he did not want! His dearest wish was to be robbed of his crown!
I was glad that kingship had not given him grand ideas of his importance. Rather it seemed it had had the opposite effect.
We stayed in Canterbury over the Easter week and then made our way to Dover. On St. George’s Day we were ready to cross to France. Cardinal Beaufort was a member of the party and he was in charge of the King’s person. Ten thousand soldiers had joined us at Canterbury and they were ranged on the shore, ready to board the vessels when the order was given.
The sun was shining as we went on board, and very soon, with a fair wind behind us, we were sailing for Calais.
We were blessed with a smooth crossing, and about ten o’clock on a bright and sunny morning we landed.
The Cardinal insisted that we ride at once to the church of St. Nicholas, where High Mass was celebrated.
We stayed a short while in Calais and then the Cardinal said that we should make our way to Rouen where he hoped to find the Duke of Bedford waiting for us.
I gathered that we should remain at Rouen while arrangements were made for Henry’s crowning at Rheims. It was an uncomfortable situation, as only recently my brother had been crowned and given the same title which was now to be bestowed on my son. I could sense, too, that there was a very different feeling among the soldiers from that which I had known when I came to meet that other Henry. Uneasiness had replaced triumph. I heard whispers of The Maid.
It was surprising to me that one woman—and a girl at that—could have so changed the outlook of people. In the towns and villages through which we passed we were regarded suspiciously. I knew that the soldiers were on the alert. This country was no longer meekly accepting the conquerors. In fact, the conquerors were on very uncertain ground. Could this all be due to one girl? She must have had divine help. Many believed that, and there was I being influenced in the same way as those superstitious people who thought that God had sent His help through the person of a country girl, to drive the English out of France.
I knew that the Cardinal was very uneasy.
I did not have much opportunity of speaking to him, but now and then he seemed to remember that I was the Queen and the King’s mother, and then there would be a little discourse between us.
He would not have spoken of his uneasiness if I had not insisted on doing so.
I said to him: “Are you anticipating trouble, Cardinal?”
He raised those haughty brows and looked at me in surprise.
“It is clear that something has changed here,” I insisted.
“In what way?”
“It would seem to me that the English are no longer regarded as the triumphant conquerors.”
“There have been a few setbacks, but nothing of any great importance.”
“So the fall of Orléans was of no importance?”
“It would have been better if it had not been allowed to happen.”
“The crowning of Charles …”
“An empty ceremony. The Duke of Bedford is a great soldier and a magnificent organizer. He has everything under control.”
“I suppose it is hard to dispel a legend of this sort which has risen up.”
“You are referring to the woman who dresses up in men’s clothes?”
“I did mean the one whom they call The Maid.”
“A momentary wonder. An exaggeration.”
“It seems to have put heart into the French and taken something from the English.”
“Whatever has been taken will be put back.”
I was not sure how much importance he attached to Joan of Arc, but I believed he was deceiving himself into thinking that she could have no effect on the war.
I soon discovered that he was by no means unconcerned about her, for as we marched through those villages, the change in the mood of the people was decidedly noticeable—and it seemed that a kind of despairing depression had fallen on our men.
Owen, who always rode in my party but never beside me, for we had warned ourselves most severely about the dangers of betraying our relationship and to be continually on the watch lest we betray it, made a discovery. He wanted to tell me, but as no opportunity presented itself, he gave the news to Joanna Courcy, asking her to tell me.
“They have captured The Maid,” she said.
“The English?”
“No…not the English. The Burgundians, who were laying siege to Compiègne. Joan was on the march with three or four hundred men on her way to Crépy when she heard that John of Luxembourg, an ally of the Duke of Burgundy, had started to besiege the town. She went to the rescue of the besieged. Some people think there was treachery. There was a good deal of envy, and some of those who should have been her staunchest supporters, being so jealous of her sought to trap her. Many of them got away in boats when the battle was going against them, and Joan with a few others assisted them in their retreat. There is a strong suspicion that her own soldiers may have betrayed her. In any case, the gates of the city were shut before she could get out. She is in the hands of John of Luxembourg and he has taken her to his castle of Beaulieu.”
“I suppose that is the same as being in the hands of the English?”
“Not quite. He will probably ask a ransom for her. He’s Burgundy’s man…and the relationship between Burgundy and the English is at the moment a little strained.”
“Poor girl. I wonder what will happen to her now.”
Joanna shook her head. “It will be the end of her glory, I am sure.”
The Cardinal was clearly overjoyed, so I knew that his indifference to The Maid had been assumed.
I wondered what I should find when I joined my brother-in-law, Bedford, at Rouen.
Such was the state of affairs in France at this time that our journey to Rouen had to proceed with the utmost care. The fact that the King was one of our party meant that no risks must be taken. I thought of my little ones in England. They would be safe, Joanna was constantly assuring me. Guillemote would defend them with her life.
There were rumors about The Maid. She had escaped, said one. She had been recaptured, said another. Then…there had been no escape. She was still the prisoner of the Count of Luxembourg. She would be sold for a large sum of money, that was certain. And who would be ready to pay that large sum of money to get her into their hands? The English! And what would her fate be when she was their prisoner—she, who had been responsible for turning the tide of war against the English? However much they denigrated her, however much they pretended to ridicule her, they must realize the truth of this.
I must admit that my thoughts were mainly occupied with the desire to get back to my children. Moreover, I could not see a great deal of Owen. He had stressed to me the necessity to be careful. But at least there was the comfort of knowing that he was there.
So cautiously we processed on this slow and tedious journey, and although we had landed at Calais in April it was not until July that we arrived in Rouen.
Bedford was there, anxiously awaiting our arrival. He had changed a good deal. He looked careworn and much older. The events of the last year had naturally had their effect on him.
His great concern was for the King, but he greeted me with the kindliness which he had always extended toward me. He was the sort of man who would never forget his brother’s injunctions to look after me, and would carry out his promise to do so to the very best of his abilities. How differently I felt toward him than I did toward his brother Gloucester.