put it on.
“It is best to be so dressed while in the serious work of war,” she told them.
“When among men it is more seemly to wear the garb of a soldier; but,” she added graciously, “were it time for me to change the fashion of my dress I would do it for you two ladies who have been so kind rather than for any one in France except my Queen.”
Many persons visited her while she was at this castle, but as Jean de Luxembourg, the master of the house, was himself in camp before Compiègne there was the disadvantage of constant news, and the girl’s anxiety became pitiable as the tidings from her “good friends” at Compiègne daily became more
unfavourable.
D’Aulon was no longer with her, and for the first time Jeanne was entirely without a friend of the old life with her. There was no word that her King or her
friends were doing anything for her, but only talk of the English and how they wished to buy her. Both visitors and guards told her of the besieged city and that their sufferings were driving the citizens to desperation. There was joy and thanksgiving in the castle upon the coming of the heralds with dispatches that seemed to be always to the advantage of the Burgundians. It preyed upon the maiden’s mind; she lost confidence and hope, becoming very despondent.
“When Compiègne is taken all persons beyond the age of seven years are to be
put to the sword,” one of her visitors said one day.
“I would rather die than live after the destruction of such good people,” she said.
“Also I would rather die than be in the hands of my enemies of England.” She
paced the floor in great agitation after the visitor left her.
“How can God leave those good people of Compiègne, who have been and are
so loyal to their King, to perish?” she cried.
And the thought came to her that she must escape, that she must go to the rescue of Compiègne. There were blows to be struck there that only she could strike.
She must go to Compiègne. Jeanne was but a young girl. She could not realize
that her allotted time was over. It is hard for one to accept the fact one is not needed; that everything can go on as usual without one, and Jeanne was very young. All at once the desperate expedient came to her to leap from the tower.
“Do not leap,” admonished her Voices. “Be patient. God will help you, and also
Compiègne.”
“Then since God will aid the good people of Compiègne I desire to be with them,” said Jeanne.
“You must bear these things gladly,” St. Catherine told her. “Delivered you will not be until you have seen the King of England.”
“Verily,” cried the Maid like the child she was, “I have no wish to see him, and would rather die than be in English hands.”
“Do not leap,” came from St. Catherine again. “Be patient. All will be well.”
But Jeanne was wrought up to too great a pitch to heed. For the first time since her Saints had come to her she deliberately disobeyed their counsels. Going to the top of the tower she commended herself to God and Our Lady and leaped.
Some time later she was found at the foot of the tower where she had fallen. She was insensible, and lay so long unconscious that the Luxembourg ladies feared
that she was dead. After a time she regained consciousness, but for three days
could neither eat nor drink. The wonder is that she escaped destruction, but no bones were broken, and she was not even seriously injured.
“I have sinned,” confessed the girl humbly to her Saints when next they visited her. “I have sinned.” And of God she asked pardon for her impatience and disobedience. She was forgiven, and comforted.
“Fear naught,” Saint Catherine said consolingly. “They of Compiègne shall have
succor before St. Martin’s Day.”
And now having obtained forgiveness for her sin Jeanne recovered and began to
eat, and soon was well. As for Compiègne, it was delivered, as was foretold a fortnight before St. Martin’s Day. The men of the town worked bravely under De
Flavy, and their courageous endurance enabled them to hold out until the twenty-fifth of October, when they were rescued by a concerted movement of Vendôme
and Zaintrailles, and a sortie of the citizens. The enemy was forced to make a shameful retreat, being completely routed, abandoning their artillery and supplies. Many strong towns which adjoined Compiègne made submission to the
King, but it was the loyalty and courage of Compiègne that really shattered the Anglo-Burgundian campaign of 1430.
Meantime Pierre Cauchon, Bishop of Beauvais, was travelling from Burgundy to
Luxembourg, and thence to Bedford in the effort to complete the sale of the maiden. Jeanne’s price had been settled at ten thousand pounds in gold. It was the ransom of a prince, and Jeanne was a peasant maid, but the English had no
doubt of her importance. There was delay in raising the money, but when at last Regent Bedford received a large sum from Normandy he set aside ten thousand
pounds which he said “were to be devoted to the purchase of Jehanne la Pucelle, said to be a witch, and certainly a military personage, leader of the hosts of the Dauphin.” The Demoiselle de Luxembourg begged Jean, her nephew, not to sell
the maiden to the English. He knew, and she knew what fate lay in store for the girl, and she besought him with tears not to take the blood money. But, pleading poverty, de Luxembourg would not listen, and the sale was made.
