At this point the public trial of Jeanne came to a sudden end. Either the feeling produced in the town, and even among the judges, by her undeviating, simple, and dignified testimony had begun to be more than her persecutors had calculated upon; or else they hoped to make shorter work with her when deprived of the free air of publicity, the sight no doubt of some sympathetic faces, and the consciousness of being still able to vindicate her cause and to maintain her faith before men. Two or three fierce Inquisitors within her cell, and the Bishop, that man without heart or pity at their head, might still tear admissions from her weariness, which a certain sympathetic atmosphere in a large auditory, swept by waves of natural feeling, would strengthen her to keep back. The Bishop made a proclamation that in order not to vex and tire his learned associates he would have the minutes of the previous sittings reduced into form, and submitted to them for judgment, while he himself carried on apart what further interrogatory was necessary. We are told that he was warned by a counsellor of the town that secret examinations without witnesses or advocate on the prisoner's side, were illegal; but Monseigneur de Beauvais was well aware that anything would be legal which effected his purpose, and that once Jeanne was disposed of, the legality or illegality of the proceedings would be of small importance. I have thought it right to give to the best of my power a literal translation of these examinations, notwithstanding their great length; as, except in one book, now out of print and very difficult to procure, no such detailed translation,(8) so far as I am aware, exists; and it seems to me that, even at the risk of fatiguing the reader (always capable of skipping at his pleasure), it is better to unfold the complete scene with all its tedium and badgering, which brings out by every touch the extraordinary self-command, valour, and sense of this wonderful Maid, the youngest, perhaps, and most ignorant of the assembly, yet meeting all with a modest and unabashed countenance, true, pure, and natural,—a far greater miracle in her simplicity and noble steadfastness than even in the wonders she had done.
(1) She was in reality detained two days, which fact, no
doubt, she judged to be an unimportant detail.
(2) Probably meaning, had been present when the voices came
to her and had perceived her state of listening and
abstraction.
(3) This was her special friend, Gerard of Epinal—her
compère and gossip; was it jesting beguiled by some
childish recollection, or mock threat of youthful days that
she said this?
(4) An answer evidently given in the vagueness of imperfect
knowledge, meaning a very great number.
(5) Quicherat gives a note on this subject to point out that
there was really was but one Pope at this moment, the
question having been settled by the abdication of Clement
VIII., Benedict XIV. being a mere impostor. We cannot
believe, however, that this historical cutting of the knot
could be known to Jeanne. She probably felt only, with her
fine instinct, that there could be but one Pope, and that to
be deceived on such a matter ought to have been a thing
impossible to all those priests and learned men; as a matter
of fact the three claimants, on account of whom the Comte
d'Armagnac had appealed to her, were no longer existing at
the time he wrote.
(6) She meant Paris, which was lost by the English,
according to her prophecy within the time named.
(7) It should here be noted that Jeanne's sign to the King
being, as he afterwards declared, the answer to his most
private devotions and the final setting at rest of a doubt
which might have injured him much had it been known that he
entertained it—it would have been dishonourable on her part
and a great wrong to him had she revealed it.
(8) The translation of M. Fabre is now, I believe,
reprinted, but it is not satisfactory.
CHAPTER XIV —THE EXAMINATION IN PRISON. LENT, 1431.
It must not be forgotten, in the history of this strange trial, that the prisoner was brought from the other side of France expressly that she might be among a people who were not of her own party, and who had no natural sympathies with her, but a hereditary connection with England, which engaged all its partialities on that side. For this purpose it was that the venue, the town expected the coming of the Witch, and all the dark revelations that might be extracted from her, her spells, and the details of that contract with the devil which was so entrancing to the popular imagination, with excitement and eagerness. Such a Cause Célèbre had never taken place among them before; and everybody no doubt looked forward to the pleasure of seeing it proved that it was not by the will of Heaven, but by some monstrous combination of black arts, that such an extraordinary result as the defeat of the invincible English soldiers had been brought about. The litigious and logical Normans no doubt looked forward to it as to the most interesting entertainment, ending in the complete vindication of their own side and the exposure of the nefarious arms used by their adversaries.
But when the proceedings had been opened, and in place of some dark-browed and termagant sorceress, with the mark of every evil passion in her face, there appeared before the spectators crowding into every available corner, the slim, youthful figure—was it boy or girl?—the serene and luminous countenance of the Maid, the flower of youth raising its whiteness and innocence in the midst of all those black-robed, subtle Doctors, it is impossible but that the very first glance must have given a shock and thrill of amazement and doubt to what may be called the lay spectators, those who had no especial bias more than common report, and whose credit or interest were not involved in bringing this unlikely criminal to condemnation. "A girl! Like our own Jeanne at home," might many a father have said, dismayed and confounded. She had, they all say, those eyes of innocence which it is so impossible not to believe, and that virginal voice, assez femme, which a sentimental Frenchman insists upon as belonging only to the spotless. At all events she had the bearing of honesty, purity, and truth. She was not afraid though all the powers of hell—or was it only of the Church and the Law?—were arrayed against her: no guilty mystery to be discovered, was in her countenance. But it must have been plain to the keen and not too charitable Normans that such semblances are not always to be trusted, and that the devil himself even, on occasion, can take upon himself the appearance of an angel of light; so that after the first shock of wonder they no doubt settled themselves to listen, believing that soon they would have their imaginations fed with tales of horror, and would discover the hoofs and the horns and unveil with triumph the lurking demon. The French historians never take into consideration the fact that it was the belief of Rouen and Normandy, as well as of any similar town or province in England, that the child Henry VI. was lawful king, and that whatever was on the other side was a hateful adversary, to be brought to such disaster and shame as was possible, without mercy and without delay.
But after a few days of the examination which we have just reported, public opinion was greatly staggered, and knew not how to turn. Gradually the conviction must have been forced upon every mind which had any candour left, that Jeanne, at that dreadful bar, with the stake in sight, and all the learning of Paris—the entire power of one great national and half of another, all England and half France against—(many more than half France, for the other part had abandoned her cause),—showed nothing of the demon, but all—if not of the angel, yet of the Maid, the emblem of perfection to that rude world, though often so barbarously handled. It might almost be said of the age, notwithstanding its immorality and rampant viciousness, that in its eyes a true virgin could do no harm. And hers was one if ever such a thing existed on earth. The talk in the streets began to take a very different tone. Massieu the clerical sheriff's officer saw nothing in her answers that was not good and right. Out of the midst of the crowd of listeners would burst an occasional cry of "Well said!" An Englishman, even a knight, overcome by his feelings, cried out: "Why was not she English, this brave girl!" All these were ominous sounds. Still more ominous was the utterance of Maître Jean Lohier, a lawyer of Rouen, who declared loudly that the trial was not a legal trial for the reasons which follow:
"In the first place because it was not in the form of an ordinary trial; secondly, because it was not held in a public court, and those present had not full and complete freedom to say what was their full and unbiassed opinion; thirdly, because there was question of the honour of the King of France of whose party Jeanne was, without calling him, or any one for him; fourthly, because neither libel nor articles were produced, and this woman who was only an uninstructed girl, had no advocate to answer for her before so many Masters and Doctors, on such grave matters, and especially those which touched upon the revelations of which she spoke; therefore it seemed to him that the trial was worth nothing. For these things Monseigneur de Beauvais was very indignant against the said Maître Lohier, saying: 'Here is Lohier who is going to make a fine fuss about our trial; he calumniates us all, and tells the world it is of no good. If one were to go by him, one would have to begin everything over again, and all that has been done would be of no use.' Monseigneur de Beauvais said besides: 'It is easy to see on which foot he halts (de quel pied il cloche). By St. John, we shall do nothing of the kind; we shall go on with our trial as we have begun it.'"
A day or two later Manchon, the Clerk of the Court (he who refused to take down Jeanne's conversation with her Judas), met this same lawyer Lohier at church, and asked him, as no doubt every man asked every other whom he met, how did he think the trial was going? to which Lohier answered: "You see the manner in which they proceed; they will take her, if they can, in her words—that is to say, the assertions in which she says I know for certain, things that concern her apparitions. If she would say, 'It seems to me' instead of 'I know for certain,' I do not see how any man could condemn her. It appears that they proceed against her rather from hate than from any other cause, and for this reason I shall not remain here. I will have nothing to do with it." This I think shows very clearly that Lohier, like the bulk of the population, by no means thought at first that it was "from hate" that the trial proceeded, but honestly believed that he had been called to try Jeanne as a professor of the black arts; and that he had discovered from her own testimony that she was not so, and that the motive of the trial was entirely a different one from that of justice; one in fact with which an honest man could have nothing to do.