Ten Girls from History

by Kate Dickinson Sweetser

With her men around her, she mounted her horse, and as she halted for a moment before starting,—seeing her dignity and graceful bearing, her men were filled with pride in her,—even Baudricourt himself came down from the castle, and made the men take an oath to guard her with their own lives, then gave her a sword and a letter to the Dauphin.

While they stood there ready to start, a man asked Jeanne:

"How can you hope to make such a journey, and escape the enemy?"

Quick and clear Jeanne's answer rang out, "If the enemy are on my road, I have God with me, who knows how to prepare the way to the Lord Dauphin. I was born to do this."

Then with a swift signal, the solemn little cavalcade rode out into the night, while eyes were strained to see the last of the brave Maid, who conceived it her consecrated duty to go to the aid of the Dauphin, and her well loved land.

On their way towards Chinon where the weak little Dauphin was holding his court, rode Jeanne and her six men, and a dangerous way it was, lying through a country over-run with marauding English and Burgundian warriors, and Jeanne's men were uneasy at escorting so young and fair a maid under such dangerous conditions, but Jeanne herself was unconcerned and fearless as they rode on into the valley of the Loire, noting on every side the devastation done by war and pillage. For greater safety they rode mostly by night, often travelling thirty miles in twenty-four hours,—a pretty severe test of the endurance of a girl of seventeen, unaccustomed to riding or of leading men-at-arms, but her courage and enthusiasm never flagged. With their horses' feet wrapped in cloths to deaden the clatter of hoofs, they went on their way as swiftly as was possible, and day by day the men's devotion to this Maid who was their leader grew deeper, as they saw the purity of her character and the nobility of her purpose.

When they drew near Chinon, Jeanne's men spoke to one another doubtfully of what kind of a reception they would have. Reaching Auxerre they rested for a while, then travelled on to Gien, and as they journeyed, a report went ahead of them, that a young peasant girl called "The Maid" was on her way, so she said, to raise the siege of Orléans and to lead the Dauphin to his crowning at Rheims. Even to Orléans the report spread, and the inhabitants of that besieged city, now despairing of deliverance, felt a thrill of hope on hearing the report.

Meanwhile Jeanne and her escort of six valiant men had halted near Chinon, while Jeanne wrote and despatched a letter to the Dauphin, in which she said that they had ridden one hundred and fifty leagues to bring him good news, and begged permission to enter his province. Then the next morning they rode into "the little town of great renown," as Chinon was called, and Jeanne remained at the Inn until the Dauphin should decide to receive her.

Now Yolande, the King's mother-in-law, was much interested in what she had heard of Jeanne, the Maid, and she so influenced the Dauphin, that De Metz and Poulengy were allowed to have audience with him, and told what a fine and noble character Jeanne was, and what a beautiful spirit animated her slender frame, and begged him to see and trust her, saying that she was surely sent to save France. Their plea made a great impression on the Dauphin, as was evident two hours later when he sent a number of clergymen to cross-question her on her so-called divine mission, and through all the tiresome examination Jeanne bore herself with proud dignity and answered so clearly and so well that they could only entertain a profound respect for the girl whom they had expected to scorn. The result of this examination was that by order of the King, Jeanne was moved from the Inn to a wing of the Castle, and there the girl-soldier was treated with every respect by the courtiers, who were all charmed by her frank simplicity and sweetness of manner. But the King had not yet consented to give her an audience, and two weary weeks dragged away in the most tedious of all things,—awaiting the Dauphin's pleasure,—and Jeanne chafed at the delay.

At last one happy day she was led into the great vaulted audience chamber of the Castle, where torches flared, and the deep murmur of voices together with the sea of eager upturned faces, might have made a less self-contained person than the Maid confused and timid. But not so with Jeanne, for her thoughts were solely on that mission which she had travelled so far to accomplish. Her page's suit was in sharp contrast to the brilliant court costumes worn by the ladies of the Court, but of that she was unconscious, and advanced calmly through the long line of torch bearers to within a few feet of the throne,—gave a bewildered glance at the figure seated before her, in the velvet robes of royalty—then turned away, and with a cry of joy threw herself at the feet of a very quietly dressed young man who stood among the ranks of courtiers, exclaiming, "God of his grace give you long life, O dear and gentle Dauphin."