Personal Recollections of Joan
by Mark Twain
Personal Recollections of Joan
by Mark Twain
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS OF JOAN OF ARC
by THE SIEUR LOUIS DE CONTE
(her page and secretary)
In Two Volumes
Volume 2.
Freely translated out of the ancient French into modern English
from the original unpublished manuscript in the National Archives
of France
Contents
Book II — IN COURT AND CAMP Continued
28 Joan Foretells Her Doom
29 Fierce Talbot Reconsiders
30 The Red Field of Patay
31 France Begins to Live Again
32 The Joyous News Flies Fast
33 Joan’s Five Great Deeds
34 The Jests of the Burgundians
35 The Heir of France is Crowned
36 Joan Hears News from Home
37 Again to Arms
38 The King Cries “Forward!”
39 We Win, but the King Balks
40 Treachery Conquers Joan
41 The Maid Will March No More
Book III — TRIAL AND MARTYRDOM
1 The Maid in Chains
2 Joan Sold to the English
3 Weaving the Net About Her
4 All Ready to Condemn
5 Fifty Experts Against a Novice
6 The Maid Baffles Her Persecutors
7 Craft That Was in Vain
8 Joan Tells of Her Visions
9 Her Sure Deliverance Foretold
10 The Inquisitors at Their Wit’s End
11 The Court Reorganized for Assassination
12 Joan’s Master-Stroke Diverted
13 The Third Trial Fails
14 Joan Struggles with Her Twelve Lies
15 Undaunted by Threat of Burning
16 Joan Stands Defiant Before the Rack
17 Supreme in Direst Peril
18 Condemned Yet Unafraid
19 Our Last Hopes of Rescue Fail
20 The Betrayal
21 Respited Only for Torture
22 Joan Gives the Fatal Answer
23 The Time Is at Hand
24 Joan the Martyr
Conclusion
Chapter 28 Joan Foretells Her Doom
THE TROOPS must have a rest. Two days would be allowed for
this.
The morning of the 14th I was writing from Joan’s dictation in a
small room which she sometimes used as a private office when she
wanted to get away from officials and their interruptions.
Catherine Boucher came in and sat down and said:
“Joan, dear, I want you to talk to me.”
“Indeed, I am not sorry for that, but glad. What is in your mind?”
“This. I scarcely slept last night, for thinking of the dangers you
are running. The Paladin told me how you made the duke stand out
of the way when the cannon-balls were flying all about, and so
saved his life.”
“Well, that was right, wasn’t it?”
“Right? Yes; but you stayed there yourself. Why will you do like
that? It seems such a wanton risk.”
“Oh, no, it was not so. I was not in any danger.”
“How can you say that, Joan, with those deadly things flying all
about you?”
Joan laughed, and tried to turn the subject, but Catherine persisted.
She said:
“It was horribly dangerous, and it could not be necessary to stay in
such a place. And you led an assault again. Joan, it is tempting
Providence. I want you to make me a promise. I want you to
promise me that you will let others lead the assaults, if there must
be assaults, and that you will take better care of yourself in those
dreadful battles. Will you?”
But Joan fought away from the promise and did not give it.
Catherine sat troubled and discontented awhile, then she said:
“Joan, are you going to be a soldier always? These wars are so
long–so long. They last forever and ever and ever.”
There was a glad flash in Joan’s eye as she cried:
“This campaign will do all the really hard work that is in front of it
in the next four days. The rest of it will be gentler–oh, far less
bloody. Yes, in four days France will gather another trophy like the
redemption of Orleans and make her second long step toward
freedom!”
Catherine started (and do did I); then she gazed long at Joan like
one in a trance, murmuring “four days–four days,” as if to herself
and unconsciously. Finally she asked, in a low voice that had
something of awe in it:
“Joan, tell me–how is it that you know that? For you do know it, I