Jeanne soon recovered from her injuries, and Compiegne was indeed relieved, but the Maid was sold to the English after she had been some four months a prisoner. She was carried to several different places, and at last to Rouen, where she was imprisoned in the castle with rough, rude men to guard her. No woman was allowed to come near her; she was kept in chains, and night and day had to endure the company of the soldiers. It was because she still hoped that some way of escape might be shown her, that she would not give her promise not to try to escape. Had she done so, she might have been more kindly treated; but her great courage made her ready to bear anything, rather than give up the chance of going back to her task.

Jeanne was to be tried by the Church, because the plan of the English was to treat her as a witch inspired by devils. A French bishop, belonging to the English party, was the chief of her judges, and with him sat forty-three learned lawyers and clergy to judge the peasant girl of eighteen, before whom the English army had shrunk in terror. The Maid had already been nine months a prisoner when she was brought to trial. She appeared dressed in a black suit like a page, strong in her confidence in the guidance of God, and trusting in her voices to tell her what to answer. The judges could not make her swear to answer truthfully all their questions. She swore to speak the truth on certain subjects, but on others, chiefly on her private communications to the king, she said she would say nothing. First, for six long days she was questioned in the public court, the ignorant peasant girl alone amongst her enemies. She never faltered, her answers came quick and ready, though often her judges wearied her by going again and again over the same points. When they asked if she often heard her voices, she said that there was no day when she did not hear them, and she had great need of them. She described once how the voice had awakened her, and she had risen and sat on her bed with folded hands to listen and to give thanks for its coming. Always she showed that all that she had done had been done at the bidding of God. “I would rather have been torn in pieces by four horses than have come into France without God’s command,” she said. She stated confidently her belief that her king would gain the kingdom of France, adding that it was this revelation that comforted her every day. She never complained, and said that since it had pleased God to allow it, she believed that it was best that she should have been taken. She said that her voices encouraged her to bear her martyrdom patiently, for she would at last come to the heavenly kingdom. When she was asked what she meant by speaking of her martyrdom, she answered that she meant the pains she suffered in prison, and that she thought it probable she would have pains still greater to bear.

For six days she was publicly examined in court, and later, on nine other days, she was secretly examined in prison. During all this time, in spite of her constant entreaties, she was not allowed to hear Mass. On her way to the court she passed in front of a little chapel and she used to kneel to pray at the entrance till even this was forbidden. When at last her examination was finished, a long statement was drawn up in which Jeanne was declared to be a witch and a heretic and accused of many evil deeds. These accusations were sent to many learned men for their opinion, and all declared that Jeanne’s voices were either inventions or the work of the devil, and that she was a liar. Meanwhile her judges visited her in prison and exhorted her to submit and own that she had been deceived. It was nearly two months since the beginning of her trial. Long sermons were preached at her; she was confused by many questions, difficult for an ignorant girl to answer, and told that it was her duty to submit to the Church. Again and again she answered simply, “I submit to God my Creator.” She was ill and worn out with suffering and anxiety. But as she lay upon her bed in prison, she still answered bravely through her weariness, “Come what may, I will do or say no other thing.” For a week she lay in her chains, the rude soldiers always with her. Then again others visited her urging her to confess, but she said, “If I saw the fire lit, if I were in the flames, I would say no other thing.”

To the last she had hoped that deliverance would come somehow, but now it seemed to her that she was altogether deserted. On the 24th of May she was taken out to the stake in the market-place at Rouen, amongst a shouting crowd of hostile people. There a statement of the accusations against her was read out, and she said that she was willing to do as the Church ordered, and that since the doctors of the Church had decided that her visions and voices were not to be believed in, she would not defend them. She was bidden to sign a paper to this effect, and told that if she did so her life would be spared. We do not know what the paper was that at last Jeanne in her fear and weariness, consented to sign with her mark, and we do not know whether she understood what she signed. But a few days afterwards she said, “My voices have told me since that I greatly sinned in that deed, in confessing that I had done ill. What I said, I said in fear of fire.”

Jeanne was now handed over to the Church to spend her life in prison. She cried, “Here, some of you church folk, take me to your prisons, and out of the hands of the English.” But her judge sent her back to the same horrible prison with the English soldiers. A woman’s dress was brought her and she was bidden to wear it. For three days she lay in prison with her legs in irons and chained to a wooden beam. We do not know exactly what happened, but on the third day, it was announced that Jeanne was again wearing the man’s dress which she had sworn to her judges that she would not wear again. News was at once taken to the judges that she had relapsed, and they hurried to ask her the reason. She pleaded that it was more convenient to wear men’s dress among men, and said, “I would rather die than remain in irons. If you will release me, and let me go to Mass and lie in gentle prison, I will be good and do what the Church desires.” But there was no pity for her. It was decided that she must be given up by the Church to the English to be burnt. It is said that Jeanne cried piteously and tore her hair when she was told her fate. If so, she soon regained her courage. Her last desire was granted her; she was allowed to receive the sacrament. Then she was led out to the market-place, weeping as she went, so that she so moved the hearts of those who were with her and they also wept. She had to wait in the sight of a great crowd whilst a sermon was preached at her. When it was over, she humbly asked forgiveness of all and said that she forgave the evil that had been done her. Some who watched were moved to tears, but others were impatient to get away to dinner; so the bailiff said “Away with her.” Then Jeanne was led to the scaffold piled with faggots. She climbed it bravely, but asked for a cross to hold as she burnt. There was none for her, till an English soldier broke his staff and made a little cross and gave it her. She kissed it and cried to her Saviour for help. To the last she affirmed that she was sure that her voices had come from God and had not deceived her. As she was being chained to the stake, she said, “Ah, Rouen, I fear greatly that thou mayst have to suffer for my death.” Then as the smoke rose round her, she cried upon the Saints who had befriended her, and with a last strong cry “Jesus,” her head sank and she was free from her pain.

The burning of Jeanne.

The story of Jeanne, the Maid of France, seems too wonderful to be true; but all that we know about her is taken from the words of those who knew and saw her, and from her own words at her trial, recorded not by her friends but by her enemies. It is by her own words that we know her best, and they show us her pure nature, her marvellous courage, her perfect devotion to the task given to her. We cannot explain what her voices were, but we know that she believed she heard them, and that somehow this simple peasant maid was taught how to save her king. She accomplished her task. It was she who gave the French courage in their hour of despair, and in the end the English were driven out of the land and Charles VII. became king of the whole of France.

IV
MARGARET BEAUFORT

It was in the beginning of the troubled times of the Wars of the Roses that Margaret Beaufort was born. Her father, the Duke of Somerset, was one of the great nobles on the Lancastrian side. He was the grandson of John of Gaunt, son of Edward III., and Duke of Lancaster, who had married a rich and noble heiress. Margaret was born in 1441 in her mother’s manor of Bletsoe in Bedfordshire. Only three years after her birth her father died, and the little girl, his only child, was left heiress to vast estates and riches. She passed the early years of her life at Bletsoe with her mother. Great care seems to have been given to Margaret’s education. It was not common in those days for girls even to be taught to write, but Margaret was bred in studious habits. She knew French perfectly, and also some Latin, but in later life regretted that she had not been able to gain a fuller knowledge of that language. She was very clever with her needle and is known to have executed beautiful embroidery. Above all she was well taught in religion and trained in habits of piety. But the condition of a great heiress was far from agreeable in those days. It was the custom to give her to some great noble as his ward, and he then had the right to arrange for her marriage as he liked. When Margaret was nine years old, the king gave her as ward to the Duke of Suffolk, one of the most powerful men of the time, and he had her brought to court, and wished to marry her to his son. But the king, Henry VI., wanted her to marry his half-brother, Edmund Tudor, Earl of Richmond. Margaret was puzzled by these different proposals, and asked the advice of an old lady whom she dearly loved. The old lady bade her ask St. Nicholas, a saint who was thought to care specially for young girls, to help her in this difficult matter. Margaret prayed often to St. Nicholas, and one night, whether she was awake or asleep she did not know, St. Nicholas in the dress of a bishop appeared before her and told her to take Edmund Tudor as her husband. This dream seems to have decided the choice of her mother, and as shortly afterwards the Duke of Suffolk fell into disgrace, it came about that Margaret was allowed to marry Edmund Tudor, when she was not quite fifteen years old. After her marriage she went with her husband to live at his castle of Pembroke in Wales, his native country. Only a year afterwards he died, and a few weeks after his death her son Henry was born. At the age of sixteen, only a child herself, she was left a widow, with a child to take care of.