March 7, 1554

We have passed two days here in this peaceful convent. I have had much time to reflect. I have not examined my conscience in regard to Queen Catherine as directed by Father Mamerot as much as perhaps I should have. Instead my head is filled with thoughts of Joan of Arc. Her life, her vision. You know that she was finally found innocent of all of which she had been condemned. There is a book here at the convent that Diane showed me. It contains a letter from Joan of Arc’s mother, an official request to the Pope, many years after her daughter was burned, to recognize her daughter’s innocence. Tears sprang to my eyes as I read it. Her letter begins “I had a daughter”, and then she proceeds to tell what a good and devout child her Joan was, and then speaks of her enemies. The trial was indeed finally declared “tainted with fraud”, and Joan of Arc was in death pronounced innocent. But I do not think I have ever read any sadder words than those four of Joan’s mother, Isabelle of Arc, “I had a daughter…” God forbid I should ever say those words.