第64章 THE CAPTIVE.MAY,1430-JAN.(5)

For the last dreary month of that winter she was sent to the fortress of Crotoy on the Somme，for what reason we are not told，probably to be more near the English into whose hands she was about to be given up：again another shameful bargain in which the guilt lies with the Burgundians and not with the English.If Charles I.was sold as we Scots all indignantly deny，the shame of the sale was on our nation，not on England，whom nobody has ever blamed for the transaction.The sale of Jeanne was brutally frank.It was indeed a ransom which was paid to Jean of Luxembourg with a share to the first captor，the archer who had secured her；but it was simple blood-money as everybody knew.At Crotoy she had once more the solace of female society，again with much pressing upon her of their own heavy skirts and hanging sleeves.A fellow-prisoner in the dungeon of Crotoy，a priest，said mass every day and gave her the holy communion.And her mind seems to have been soothed and calmed.Compiègne was relieved；the saints had kept their word：she had that burden the less upon her soul：and over the country there were against stirrings of French valour and success.

The day of the Maid was over，but it began to bear the fruit of a national quickening of vigour and life.

It was at Crotoy，in December，that she was transferred to English hands.The eager offer of the University of Paris to see her speedy condemnation had not been accepted，and perhaps the Burgundians had been willing to wait，to see if any ransom was forthcoming from France.Perhaps too，Paris，which sang the /Te Deum/when she was taken prisoner，began to be a little startled by its own enthusiasm and to ask itself the question what there was to be so thankful about？

--a result which has happened before in the history of that impulsive city：--and Paris was too near the centre of France，where the balance seemed to be turning again in favour of the national party，to have its thoughts distracted by such a trial as was impending.It seemed better to the English leaders to conduct their prisoner to a safer place，to the depths of Normandy where they were most strong.They seem to have carried her away in the end of the year，travelling slowly along the coast，and reaching Rouen by way of Eu and Dieppe，as far away as possible from any risk of rescue.She arrived in Rouen in the beginning of the year 1431，having thus been already for nearly eight months in close custody.But there were no further ministrations of kind women for Jeanne.She was now distinctly in the hands of her enemies，those who had no sympathy or natural softening of feeling towards her.

The severities inflicted upon her in her new prison at Rouen were terrible，almost incredible.We are told that she was kept in an iron cage (like the Countess of Buchan in earlier days by Edward I.)，bound hands，and feet，and throat，to a pillar，and watched incessantly by English soldiers--the latter being an abominable and hideous method of torture which was never departed from during the rest of her life.

Afterwards，at the beginning of her trial she was relieved from the cage，but never from the presence and scrutiny of this fierce and hateful bodyguard.Such detestable cruelties were in the manner of the time，which does not make us the less sicken at them with burning indignation and the rage of shame.For this aggravation of her sufferings England alone was responsible.The Burgundians at their worst had not used her so.It is true that she was to them a piece of valuable property worth so much good money；which is a powerful argument everywhere.But to the English she meant no money：no one offered to ransom Jeanne on the side of her own party，for whom she had done so much.Even at Tours and Orleans，so far as appears，there was no subscription--to speak in modern terms，--no cry among the burghers to gather their crowns for her redemption--not a word，not an effort，only a barefooted procession，a mass，a Miserere，which had no issue.France stood silent to see what would come of it；and her scholars and divines swarmed towards Rouen to make sure that nothing but harm should come of it to the ignorant country lass，who had set up such pretences of knowing better than others.The King congratulated himself that he had another prophetess as good as she，and a Heaven-sent boy from the mountains who would do as well and better than Jeanne.Where was Dunois？Where was La Hire，[1]a soldier bound by no conventions，a captain whose troop went like the wind where it listed，and whose valour was known？Where was young Guy de Laval，so ready to sell his lands that his men might be fit for service？All silent；no man drawing a sword or saying a word.It is evident that in this frightful pause of fate，Jeanne had become to France as to England，the Witch whom it was perhaps a danger to have had anything to do with，whose spells had turned the world upside down for a moment：but these spells had become ineffectual or worn out as is the nature of sorcery.No explanation，not even the well-worn and so often valid one of human baseness，could explain the terrible situation，if not this.

[1]La Hire was at Louvain，which we hear a little later the new English levies would not march to besiege till the Maid was dead，and where Dunois joined him in March of this fatal year.These two at Louvain within a few leagues of Rouen and not a sword drawn for Jeanne！--the wonder grows.