Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc (Vols. I-II) Chapter 13 The Third Trial Fails
by Mark Twain
So the second trial in the prison was over. Over, and no
definite result. The character of it I have described to you. It was
baser in one particular than the previous one; for this time the
charges had not been communicated to Joan, therefore she had
been obliged to fight in the dark.
There was no opportunity to do any thinking beforehand; there was
no foreseeing what traps might be set, and no way to prepare for
them. Truly it was a shabby advantage to take of a girl situated as
this one was. One day, during the course of it, an able lawyer of
Normandy, Maître Lohier, happened to be in Rouen, and I will
give you his opinion of that trial, so that you may see that I have
been honest with you, and that my partisanship has not made me
deceive you as to its unfair and illegal character. Cauchon showed
Lohier the procès and asked his opinion about the trial. Now this
was the opinion which he gave to Cauchon. He said that the whole
thing was null and void; for these reasons: 1, because the trial was
secret, and full freedom of speech and action on the part of those
present not possible; 2, because the trial touched the honor of the
King of France, yet he was not summoned to defend himself, nor
any one appointed to represent him; 3, because the charges against
the prisoner were not communicated to her; 4, because the
accused, although young and simple, had been forced to defend
her cause without help of counsel, notwithstanding she had so
much at stake.
Did that please Bishop Cauchon? It did not. He burst out upon
Lohier with the most savage cursings, and swore he would have
him drowned. Lohier escaped from Rouen and got out of France
with all speed, and so saved his life.
Well, as I have said, the second trial was over, without definite
result. But Cauchon did not give up. He could trump up another.
And still another and another, if necessary. He had the
half-promise of an enormous prize--the Archbishopric of Rouen--if
he should succeed in burning the body and damning to hell the
soul of this young girl who had never done him any harm; and
such a prize as that, to a man like the Bishop of Beauvais, was
worth the burning and damning of fifty harmless girls, let alone
one.
So he set to work again straight off next day; and with high
confidence, too, intimating with brutal cheerfulness that he should
succeed this time. It took him and the other scavengers nine days
to dig matter enough out of Joan's testimony and their own
inventions to build up the new mass of charges. And it was a
formidable mass indeed, for it numbered sixty-six articles.
This huge document was carried to the castle the next day, March
27th; and there, before a dozen carefully selected judges, the new
trial was begun.
Opinions were taken, and the tribunal decided that Joan should
hear the articles read this time.
Maybe that was on account of Lohier's remark upon that head; or
maybe it was hoped that the reading would kill the prisoner with
fatigue--for, as it turned out, this reading occupied several days. It
was also decided that Joan should be required to answer squarely
to every article, and that if she refused she should be considered
convicted. You see, Cauchon was managing to narrow her chances
more and more all the time; he was drawing the toils closer and
closer.
Joan was brought in, and the Bishop of Beauvais opened with a
speech to her which ought to have made even himself blush, so
laden it was with hypocrisy and lies. He said that this court was
composed of holy and pious churchmen whose hearts were full of
benevolence and compassion toward her, and that they had no
wish to hurt her body, but only a desire to instruct her and lead her
into the way of truth and salvation.
Why, this man was born a devil; now think of his describing
himself and those hardened slaves of his in such language as that.
And yet, worse was to come. For now having in mind another of
Lohier's h8ints, he had the cold effrontery to make to Joan a
proposition which, I think, will surprise you when you hear it. He
said that this court, recognizing her untaught estate and her
inability to deal with the complex and difficult matters which were
about to be considered, had determined, out of their pity and their
mercifulness, to allow her to choose one or more persons out of
their own number to help her with counsel and advice!
Think of that--a court made up of Loyseleur and his breed of
reptiles. It was granting leave to a lamb to ask help of a wolf. Joan
looked up to see if he was serious, and perceiving that he was at
least pretending to be, she declined, of course.
The Bishop was not expecting any other reply. He had made a
show of fairness and could have it entered on the minutes,
therefore he was satisfied.
Then he commanded Joan to answer straitly to every accusation;
and threatened to cut her off from the Church if she failed to do
that or delayed her answers beyond a given length of time.
Yes, he was narrowing her chances down, step by step.
Thomas de Courcelles began the reading of that interminable
document, article by article. Joan answered to each article in its
turn; sometimes merely denying its truth, sometimes by saying her
answer would be found in the records of the previous trials.
What a strange document that was, and what an exhibition and
exposure of the heart of man, the one creature authorized to boast
that he is made in the image of God. To know Joan of Arc was to
know one who was wholly noble, pure, truthful, brave,
compassionate, generous, pious, unselfish, modest, blameless as
the very flowers in the fields--a nature fine and beautiful, a
character supremely great. To know her from that document would
be to know her as the exact reverse of all that. Nothing that she
was appears in it, everything that she was not appears there in
detail.
Consider some of the things it charges against her, and remember
who it is it is speaking of. It calls her a sorceress, a false prophet,
an invoker and companion of evil spirits, a dealer in magic, a
person ignorant of the Catholic faith, a schismatic; she is
sacrilegious, an idolater, an apostate, a blasphemer of God and His
saints, scandalous, seditious, a disturber of the peace; she incites
men to war, and to the spilling of human blood; she discards the
decencies and proprieties of her sex, irreverently assuming the
dress of a man and the vocation of a soldier; she beguiles both
princes and people; she usurps divine honors, and has caused
herself to be adored and venerated, offering her hands and her
vestments to be kissed.
There it is--every fact of her life distorted, perverted, reversed. As
a child she had loved the fairies, she had spoken a pitying word for
them when they were banished from their home, she had played
under their tree and around their fountain--hence she was a
comrade of evil spirits.
She had lifted France out of the mud and moved her to strike for
freedom, and led her to victory after victory--hence she was a
disturber of the peace--as indeed she was, and a provoker of
war--as indeed she was again! and France will be proud of it and
grateful for it for many a century to come. And she had been
adored--as if she could help that, poor thing, or was in any way to
blame for it. The cowed veteran and the wavering recruit had
drunk the spirit of war from her eyes and touched her sword with
theirs and moved forward invincible--hence she was a sorceress.
And so the document went on, detail by detail, turning these
waters of life to poison, this gold to dross, these proofs of a noble
and beautiful life to evidences of a foul and odious one.
Of course, the sixty-six articles were just a rehash of the things
which had come up in the course of the previous trials, so I will
touch upon this new trial but lightly. In fact, Joan went but little
into detail herself, usually merely saying, "That is not true--passez
outre"; or, "I have answered that before--let the clerk read it in his
record," or saying some other brief thing.
She refused to have her mission examined and tried by the earthly
Church. The refusal was taken note of.
She denied the accusation of idolatry and that she had sought
men's homage. She said:
"If any kissed my hands and my vestments it was not by my desire,
and I did what I could to prevent it."
She had the pluck to say to that deadly tribunal that she did not
know the fairies to be evil beings. She knew it was a perilous thing
to say, but it was not in her nature to speak anything but the truth
when she spoke at all. Danger had no weight with her in such
things. Note was taken of her remark.
She refused, as always before, when asked if she would put off the
male attire if she were given permission to commune. And she
added this:
"When one receives the sacrament, the manner of his dress is a
small thing and of no value in the eyes of Our Lord."
She was charge with being so stubborn in clinging to her male
dress that she would not lay it off even to get the blessed privilege
of hearing mass. She spoke out with spirit and said:
"I would rather die than be untrue to my oath to God."
She was reproached with doing man's work in the wars and thus
deserting the industries proper to her sex. She answered, with
some little touch of soldierly disdain:
"As to the matter of women's work, there's plenty to do it."
It was always a comfort to me to see the soldier spirit crop up in
her. While that remained in her she would be Joan of Arc, and able
to look trouble and fate in the face.
"It appears that this mission of yours which you claim you had
from God, was to make war and pour out human blood."
Joan replied quite simply, contenting herself with explaining that
war was not her first move, but her second:
"To begin with, I demanded that peace should be made. If it was
refused, then I would fight."
The judge mixed the Burgundians and English together in
speaking of the enemy which Joan had come to make war upon.
But she showed that she made a distinction between them by act
and word, the Burgundians being Frenchmen and therefore entitled
to less brusque treatment than the English. She said:
As to the Duke of Burgundy, I required of him, both by letters and
by his ambassadors, that he make peace with the King. As to the
English, the only peace for them was that they leave the country
and go home."
Then she said that even with the English she had shown a pacific
disposition, since she had warned them away by proclamation
before attacking them.
"If they had listened to me," said she, "they would have done
wisely." At this point she uttered her prophecy again, saying with
emphasis, "Before seven years they will see it themselves."
Then they presently began to pester her again about her male
costume, and tried to persuade her to voluntarily promise to
discard it. I was never deep, so I think it no wonder that I was
puzzled by their persistency in what seemed a thing of no
consequence, and could not make out what their reason could be.
But we all know now. We all know now that it was another of their
treacherous projects. Yes, if they could but succeed in getting her
to formally discard it they could play a game upon her which
would quickly destroy her. So they kept at their evil work until at
last she broke out and said:
"Peace! Without the permission of God I will not lay it off though
you cut off my head!"
At one point she corrected the procès verbal, saying:
"It makes me say that everything which I have done was done by
the counsel of Our Lord. I did not say that, I said 'all which I have
well done.'"
Doubt was cast upon the authenticity of her mission because of the
ignorance and simplicity of the messenger chosen. Joan smiled at
that. She could have reminded these people that Our Lord, who is
no respecter of persons, had chosen the lowly for his high purposes
even oftener than he had chosen bishops and cardinals; but she
phrased her rebuke in simpler terms:
"It is the prerogative of Our Lord to choose His instruments where
He will."
She was asked what form of prayer she used in invoking counsel
from on high. She said the form was brief and simple; then she
lifted her pallid face and repeated it, clasping her chained hands:
"Most dear God, in honor of your holy passion I beseech you, if
you love me, that you will reveal to me what I am to answer to
these churchmen. As concerns my dress, I know by what command
I have put it on, but I know not in what manner I am to lay it off. I
pray you tell me what to do."
She was charged with having dared, against the precepts of God
and His saints, to assume empire over men and make herself
Commander-in-Chief. That touched the soldier in her. She had a
deep reverence for priests, but the soldier in her had but small
reverence for a priest's opinions about war; so, in her answer to
this charge she did not condescend to go into any explanations or
excuses, but delivered herself with bland indifference and military
brevity.
"If I was Commander-in-Chief, it was to thrash the English."
Death was staring her in the face here all the time, but no matter;
she dearly loved to make these English-hearted Frenchmen squirm,
and whenever they gave her an opening she was prompt to jab her
sting into it. She got great refreshment out of these little episodes.
Her days were a desert; these were the oases in it.
Her being in the wars with men was charged against her as an
indelicacy. She said:
"I had a woman with me when I could--in towns and lodgings. In
the field I always slept in my armor."
That she and her family had been ennobled by the King was
charged against her as evidence that the source of her deeds were
sordid self-seeking. She answered that she had not asked this grace
of the King; it was his own act.
This third trial was ended at last. And once again there was no
definite result.
Possibly a fourth trial might succeed in defeating this apparently
unconquerable girl. So the malignant Bishop set himself to work to
plan it.
He appointed a commission to reduce the substance of the
sixty-six articles to twelve compact lies, as a basis for the new
attempt. This was done. It took several days.
Meantime Cauchon went to Joan's cell one day, with Manchon and
two of the judges, Isambard de la Pierre and Martin Ladvenue, to
see if he could not manage somehow to beguile Joan into
submitting her mission to the examination and decision of the
Church Militant--that is to say, to that part of the Church Militant
which was represented by himself and his creatures.
Joan once more positively refused. Isambard de la Pierre had a
heart in his body, and he so pitied this persecuted poor girl that he
ventured to do a very daring thing; for he asked her if she would be
willing to have her case go before the Council of Basel, and said it
contained as many priests of her party as of the English party.
Joan cried out that she would gladly go before so fairly constructed
a tribunal as that; but before Isambard could say another word
Cauchon turned savagely upon him and exclaimed:
"Shut up, in the devil's name!"
Then Manchon ventured to do a brave thing, too, though he did it
in great fear for his life. He asked Cauchon if he should enter
Joan's submission to the Council of Basel upon the minutes.
"No! It is not necessary."
"Ah," said poor Joan, reproachfully, "you set down everything that
is against me, but you will not set down what is for me."
It was piteous. It would have touched the heart of a brute. But
Cauchon was more than that.