Another of the Twelve says she claims that she has never
committed any sin. She never made any such claim.
Another makes the wearing of the male dress a sin. If it was, she
had high Catholic authority for committing it–that of the
Archbishop of Rheims and the tribunal of Poitiers.
The Tenth Article was resentful against her for “pretending” that
St. Catherine and St.
Marguerite spoke French and not English, and were French in their
politics.
The Twelve were to be submitted first to the learned doctors of
theology of the University of Paris for approval. They were copied
out and ready by the night of April 4th. Then Manchon did another
bold thing: he wrote in the margin that many of the Twelve put
statements in Joan’s mouth which were the exact opposite of what
she had said. That fact would not be considered important by the
University of Paris, and would not influence its decision or stir its
humanity, in case it had any–which it hadn’t when acting in a
political capacity, as at present–but it was a brave thing for that
good Manchon to do, all the same.
The Twelve were sent to Paris next day, April 5th. That afternoon
there was a great tumult in Rouen, and excited crowds were
flocking through all the chief streets, chattering and seeking for
news; for a report had gone abroad that Joan of Arc was sick unti
death. In truth, these long s‚ances had worn her out, and she was
ill indeed. The heads of the English party were in a state of
consternation; for if Joan should die uncondemned by the Church
and go to the grave unsmirched, the pity and the love of the people
would turn her wrongs and sufferings and death into a holy
martyrdom, and she would be even a mightier power in France
dead than she had been when alive.
The Earl of Warwick and the English Cardinal (Winchester)
hurried to the castle and sent messengers flying for physicians.
Warwick was a hard man, a rude, coarse man, a man without
compassion. There lay the sick girl stretched in her chains in her
iron cage–not an object to move man to ungentle speech, one
would think; yet Warwick spoke right out in her hearing and said
to the physicians:
“Mind you take good care of her. The King of England has no
mind to have her die a natural death. She is dear to him, for he
bought her dear, and he does not want her to die, save at the stake.
Now then, mind you cure her.”
The doctors asked Joan what had made her ill. She said the Bishop
of Beauvais had sent her a fish and she thought it was that.
Then Jean d’Estivet burst out on her, and called her names and
abused her. He understood Joan to be charging the Bishop with
poisoning her, you see; and that was not pleasing to him, for he
was one of Cauchon’s most loving and conscienceless slaves, and
it outraged him to have Joan injure his master in the eyes of these
great English chiefs, these being men who could ruin Cauchon and
would promptly do it if they got the conviction that he was capable
of saving Joan from the stake by poisoning her and thus cheating
the English out of all the real value gainable by her purchase from
the Duke of Burgundy.
Joan had a high fever, and the doctors proposed to bleed her.
Warwick said:
“Be careful about that; she is smart and is capable of killing
herself.”
He meant that to escape the stake she might undo the bandage and
let herself bleed to death.
But the doctors bled her anyway, and then she was better.
Not for long, though. Jean d’Estivet could not hold still, he was so
worried and angry about the suspicion of poisoning which Joan
had hinted at; so he came back in the evening and stormed at her
till he brought the fever all back again.
When Warwick heard of this he was in a fine temper, you may be
sure, for here was his prey threatening to escape again, and all