Виктория Холт - Epitaph for Three Women

Zabillet kissed this young man solemnly on both cheeks. He was a good worker, a pleasant boy; she knew his people well.

‘We will arrange for the marriage without delay.’

When Jeannette came in from her work on the land, Zabillet went to her and put her arms about her. She looked from her mother to her father and to the young man with some amazement wondering why there was this unusual demonstration and atmosphere of solemnity.

‘We are well pleased, daughter,’ said Jacques. ‘Our consent is given and we see no reason for delay even though we are away from home.’

‘Of what do you speak, my father?’ asked Jeannette, looking bewildered.

‘Of your marriage, daughter. We have heard of your betrothal.’

‘My betrothal!’ she burst out. ‘There has been no betrothal.’

‘Jeannette, you know full well there has been. You promised …’

Jeannette turned fiercely on the young man.

‘You lie!’ she cried.

‘Silence,’ cried Jacques. ‘You use the language of these soldiers of whom you are so fond.’

Zabillet could see that he confused his dream with reality and she was afraid for her daughter.

The young man had turned to Jacques. ‘I assure you, sir, that your daughter has promised me marriage and I shall insist on my rights.’

‘And,’ cried Jacques, ‘I shall insist that you receive them.’

Jeannette ran out of the house. She went to the meadow and stood there with her hands folded together, staring up beseechingly at the sky.

‘Have no fear, Daughter,’ said the voices. ‘They will try to force you, but they will not succeed.’

She felt calmer then and after a while she went back into the house.

There her father was waiting for her. He looked angry. He had always been stern but there had been a rough sort of kindness before. All that was gone now. He was looking at her as though she were … unclean. Her mother was frightened too, she saw.

‘It is time you were married,’ he said firmly. ‘What is wrong with this young man? He is a good worker. And he is determined to marry you in spite of the way you have behaved towards him. You shall marry him.’

‘No, my father, I shall marry no one. I have vowed to remain a virgin for as long as Heaven shall command me to.’

‘The girl’s wits are addled,’ said Jacques.

‘Jeannette,’ put in her mother, ‘it is right that you should marry and this is a good offer. He will look after you. You will have children of your own

Jeannette would have been very frightened, but she could feel the heavenly presence nearby assuring her that all would be well.

* * *

Jacques was triumphant. Her suitor, determined on marriage, swore that Jeannette had given her sacred promise to marry him, and after the custom of the day he cited her to appear before the tribunal in the town of Toul whither he had taken his case to the ecclesiastical court. This council decided all matters which concerned Domrémy and the neighbouring villages and the finding of the court would be final. If it decided that Jeannette was indeed betrothed she would have to marry, for betrothal was tantamount to taking a vow and such vows were considered sacred.

If she did not appear at the court it would be presumed that she had given in and accepted her fate, so there was only one thing she could do, and that was go and plead her cause. She had made no promise and she would not be bludgeoned into marriage.

‘Will you go to the court then?’ asked Jacques.

‘I will go,’ she answered.

‘Do you know that it is twenty-five miles from here?’

‘I do know it.’

‘And how will you get there?’

‘I will find my way.’

‘I’ll not come with you … nor shall anyone in this household.’

‘I need no one. I shall go alone.’

So she prepared herself. Zabillet was very worried.

‘We cannot let her go alone,’ she said to Jacques. ‘Think what might happen to her on the road.’

‘She will not go,’ retorted Jacques. ‘Twenty-five miles! A girl alone! Stop fretting. She’ll set out and be back in an hour or so … and then she’ll come to her senses.’

‘She has a strong will.’

‘She would never stand up to the court. Even if she made the journey, she would have to give way. They would be of the same opinion as we are. Marriage is the best thing for her.’

Jacques was wrong. Jeannette made the journey without mishap. She was certain she would because her voices had told her so. She faced the court; she was calm and so serenely vowed that she had made no promises that the court regarded her objections very seriously indeed. She was sent away and told that her case should be considered.

Confidently she returned to Neufchâteau for her voices had told her that all would be well. She had not been back more than a day or so when two messengers arrived. One was to say that the young man who had lyingly declared that she had promised to marry him had been thrown from his mare and had died instantly. The other messenger came from Toul. The court had considered her case and accepted her story. It was not she who had been at fault and she was free to remain unmarried.

Jacques was subdued. Zabillet did not know what to think. And very soon after that Robert de Baudricourt had brought about a temporary truce and it was considered safe to go back to Domrémy.

IT was a sad homecoming to Domrémy, for there was clear evidence that the soldiers had passed through. The villagers were grateful for Jacques’ far-sightedness in leading the exodus to Neufchâteau. Once again he had been proved right. Even so the soldiers, no doubt enraged at finding no food to be taken, no girls to be raped, had wreaked a certain amount of damage on some of the houses. One or two of them had even been burned down.

‘Let us thank God that no greater harm has been done,’ said Jacques; and the entire village set to work to rebuild where necessary. Jacques’ own house, by some stroke of good fortune, had been left unscathed.

Those were difficult months for Jeannette to live through; she was deeply aware of the suspicious, watchful looks which came her way. That they all thought she was strange there was no doubt; in the village they whispered about her, and Jacques continued to fear that she would go off with the soldiers and become a camp follower. Any profession less likely to suit Jeannette it would be hard to conceive but after his vivid dreams her father could not get the idea out of his mind.

Mengette, now recovering a little from the shock of her husband’s death, remonstrated with her. ‘Remember you are still young,’ she said. ‘You could marry and have children. Believe me, it is the best life.’

Pierrelot cried: ‘What is the matter with you, Jeannette? Why can’t you be like other girls? People are saying you are strange.’

‘Let them,’ she answered. ‘Let them say what they will. I have my destiny to fulfil and it is a matter for me, not for them.’

Only Hauviette felt the same towards her as she ever had. ‘Whatever it is, Jeannette, that has happened to you, it is good,’ she said, ‘and you will do what you have to do and do it well.’

The young girl would sometimes come and sit beside her in the meadow while she watched the sheep, or bring her distaff so that they could sit and spin and only with Hauviette did Jeannette feel a certain peace.

With the coming of autumn there was a great deal of traffic on the main road and news came to Domrémy that the important town of Orléans was under siege. People talked on the green outside the church and they spoke gravely for there had been so many reverses for the French and if Orléans fell into the hands of the English it could be the beginning of the end of French resistance.

Jeannette chafed against her inadequacy. The voices had spoken to her of Orléans. She had been told before she knew there was one that she was to raise the siege of that city and march triumphantly in to the rescue of the citizens.

Now the siege had begun and she was still in Domrémy where her father watched her with stern eyes and she knew that if she attempted to run away she would not be allowed to get very far.

What could she do? She was failing in some way. She felt foolish, helpless, unworthy of the task for which Heaven had chosen her.

It was October. How long could Orléans hold out? And what use was she, here in Domrémy?

She was sick with anxiety and she went to the fields and waited for the voices.

They came. ‘Have no fear, Daughter,’ she was told. ‘Durand Laxart will help you again. His wife Jeanne is to have a child and when it is born he will ask that you go to look after her. Then you will go once more to Captain de Baudricourt. This time you will succeed in reaching the Dauphin.’

She was considerably comforted.

The news from Orléans was bad. The English were surrounding the town and the Duke of Burgundy was on the side of the English. That was shameful.

And here was Jeannette waiting for the call from Durand Laxart.

The English had captured the fort of Les Tourelles and the Earl of Salisbury, who was recognised to be one of the greatest soldiers in Europe, was in charge of operations.

And still there was no summons from Durand.

Then they heard that the Earl of Salisbury had been killed rather mysteriously, through a cannon ball as he looked from Les Tourelles on Orléans, and it seemed that the tower from which it had come had been empty. Someone had seen a young child calmly walking away from the cannon … but that was all and it was impossible for a child to have fired it.