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Adjust semantics and CSS
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acabal committed Jul 10, 2021
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66 changes: 26 additions & 40 deletions src/epub/css/local.css
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margin-top: 20vh;
}

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#halftitlepage p:nth-of-type(4){
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<body epub:type="frontmatter">
<section id="bibliography" epub:type="bibliography">
<p>Authorities examined in verification of the truthfulness of this narrative:</p>
<p><b><abbr epub:type="z3998:given-name">J. E. J.</abbr> Quicherat</b>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Condamnation et Réhabilitation de Jeanne d’Arc</i>.</p>
<p><b><abbr epub:type="z3998:given-name">J.</abbr> Fabre</b>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Procès de Condamnation de Jeanne d’Arc</i>.</p>
<p><b><abbr epub:type="z3998:given-name">H. A.</abbr> Wallon</b>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Jeanne d’Arc</i>.</p>
<p><b>M. Sepet</b>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Jeanne d’Arc</i>.</p>
<p><b><abbr epub:type="z3998:given-name">J.</abbr> Michelet</b>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Jeanne d’Arc</i>.</p>
<p><b>Berriat de Saint-Prix</b>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">La Famille de Jeanne d’Arc</i>.</p>
<p>La Comtesse <b><abbr epub:type="z3998:given-name">A.</abbr> de Chabannes</b>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">La Vierge Lorraine</i>.</p>
<p>Monseigneur <b>Ricard</b>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Jeanne d’Arc la Vénérable</i>.</p>
<p>Lord <b>Ronald Gower</b>, <abbr epub:type="z3998:initialism">F.S.A.</abbr>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Joan of Arc</i>.</p>
<p><b>John O’Hagan</b>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Joan of Arc</i>.</p>
<p><b>Janet Tuckey</b>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Joan of Arc the Maid</i>.</p>
<ul>
<li>
<p><b><abbr epub:type="z3998:given-name">J. E. J.</abbr> Quicherat</b>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book" xml:lang="fr">Condamnation et Réhabilitation de Jeanne d’Arc</i>.</p>
</li>
<li>
<p><b><abbr epub:type="z3998:given-name">J.</abbr> Fabre</b>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book" xml:lang="fr">Procès de Condamnation de Jeanne d’Arc</i>.</p>
</li>
<li>
<p><b><abbr epub:type="z3998:given-name">H. A.</abbr> Wallon</b>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Jeanne d’Arc</i>.</p>
</li>
<li>
<p><b>M. Sepet</b>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Jeanne d’Arc</i>.</p>
</li>
<li>
<p><b><abbr epub:type="z3998:given-name">J.</abbr> Michelet</b>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Jeanne d’Arc</i>.</p>
</li>
<li>
<p><b>Berriat de Saint-Prix</b>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book" xml:lang="fr">La Famille de Jeanne d’Arc</i>.</p>
</li>
<li>
<p>La Comtesse <b><abbr epub:type="z3998:given-name">A.</abbr> de Chabannes</b>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book" xml:lang="fr">La Vierge Lorraine</i>.</p>
</li>
<li>
<p>Monseigneur <b>Ricard</b>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book" xml:lang="fr">Jeanne d’Arc la Vénérable</i>.</p>
</li>
<li>
<p>Lord <b>Ronald Gower</b>, <abbr epub:type="z3998:initialism">F.S.A.</abbr>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Joan of Arc</i>.</p>
</li>
<li>
<p><b>John O’Hagan</b>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Joan of Arc</i>.</p>
</li>
<li>
<p><b>Janet Tuckey</b>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Joan of Arc the Maid</i>.</p>
</li>
</ul>
</section>
</body>
</html>
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<p>“She has won a kingdom and crowned its King; and all she asks and all she will take is this poor grace⁠—and even this is for others, not for herself. And it is well; her act being proportioned to the dignity of one who carries in her head and heart riches which outvalue any that any King could add, though he gave his all. She shall have her way. Now, therefore, it is decreed that from this day forth Domremy, natal village of Joan of Arc, Deliverer of France, called the Maid of Orleans, is freed from all taxation <em>forever</em>.” Whereat the silver horns blew a jubilant blast.</p>
<p>There, you see, she had had a vision of this very scene the time she was in a trance in the pastures of Domremy, and we asked her to name to boon she would demand of the King if he should ever chance to tell her she might claim one. But whether she had the vision or not, this act showed that after all the dizzy grandeurs that had come upon her, she was still the same simple, unselfish creature that she was that day.</p>
<p>Yes, Charles <span epub:type="z3998:roman">VII</span> remitted those taxes “forever.” Often the gratitude of kings and nations fades and their promises are forgotten or deliberately violated; but you, who are children of France, should remember with pride that France has kept this one faithfully. Sixty-three years have gone by since that day. The taxes of the region wherein Domremy lies have been collected sixty-three times since then, and all the villages of that region have paid except that one⁠—Domremy. The tax-gatherer never visits Domremy. Domremy has long ago forgotten what that dread sorrow-sowing apparition is like. Sixty-three tax-books have been filed meantime, and they lie yonder with the other public records, and any may see them that desire it. At the top of every page in the sixty-three books stands the name of a village, and below that name its weary burden of taxation is figured out and displayed; in the case of all save one. It is true, just as I tell you. In each of the sixty-three books there is a page headed “Domremi,” but under that name not a figure appears. Where the figures should be, there are three words written; and the same words have been written every year for all these years; yes, it is a blank page, with always those grateful words lettered across the face of it⁠—a touching memorial. Thus:</p>
<div>
<blockquote>
<p>Domremi</p>
<p>
<b>Rien⁠—La Pucelle</b>
</p>
</div>
</blockquote>
<p>“<strong>Nothing⁠—The Maid of Orleans.</strong>” How brief it is; yet how much it says! It is the nation speaking. You have the spectacle of that unsentimental thing, a Government, making reverence to that name and saying to its agent, “<em>Uncover, and pass on; it is France that commands.</em>” Yes, the promise has been kept; it will be kept always; “forever” was the King’s word.<a href="endnotes.xhtml#note-4" id="noteref-4" epub:type="noteref">4</a></p>
<p>At two o’clock in the afternoon the ceremonies of the Coronation came at last to an end; then the procession formed once more, with Joan and the King at its head, and took up its solemn march through the midst of the church, all instruments and all people making such clamor of rejoicing noises as was, indeed, a marvel to hear. An so ended the third of the great days of Joan’s life. And how close together they stand⁠—May 8th, June 18th, July 17th!</p>
</section>
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</hgroup>
<p>At nine o’clock the Maid of Orleans, Deliverer of France, went forth in the grace of her innocence and her youth to lay down her life for the country she loved with such devotion, and for the King that had abandoned her. She sat in the cart that is used only for felons. In one respect she was treated worse than a felon; for whereas she was on her way to be sentenced by the civil arm, she already bore her judgment inscribed in advance upon a miter-shaped cap which she wore:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>
<b>
<i>Heretic, Relapsed, Apostate, Idolater</i>
</b>
</p>
<p>Heretic, Relapsed, Apostate, Idolater</p>
</blockquote>
<p>In the cart with her sat the friar Martin Ladvenu and Maître Jean Massieu. She looked girlishly fair and sweet and saintly in her long white robe, and when a gush of sunlight flooded her as she emerged from the gloom of the prison and was yet for a moment still framed in the arch of the somber gate, the massed multitudes of poor folk murmured “A vision! a vision!” and sank to their knees praying, and many of the women weeping; and the moving invocation for the dying arose again, and was taken up and borne along, a majestic wave of sound, which accompanied the doomed, solacing and blessing her, all the sorrowful way to the place of death. “Christ have pity! Saint Margaret have pity! Pray for her, all ye saints, archangels, and blessed martyrs, pray for her! Saints and angels intercede for her! From thy wrath, good Lord, deliver her! O Lord God, save her! Have mercy on her, we beseech Thee, good Lord!”</p>
<p>It is just and true what one of the histories has said: “The poor and the helpless had nothing but their prayers to give Joan of Arc; but these we may believe were not unavailing. There are few more pathetic events recorded in history than this weeping, helpless, praying crowd, holding their lighted candles and kneeling on the pavement beneath the prison walls of the old fortress.”</p>
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<li id="note-7" epub:type="endnote">
<p>What she said has been many times translated, but never with success. There is a haunting pathos about the original which eludes all efforts to convey it into our tongue. It is as subtle as an odor, and escapes in the transmission. Her words were these:</p>
<p>“<i xml:lang="fr">Il avait été à la peine, c’etait bien raison qu’il fut a l’honneur.</i>”</p>
<p>Monseigneur Ricard, Honorary Vicar-General to the Archbishop of Aix, finely speaks of it (<i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Jeanne d’Arc la Vénérable</i>, page 197) as “that sublime reply, enduring in the history of celebrated sayings like the cry of a French and Christian soul wounded unto death in its patriotism and its faith.” <cite>—⁠Translator</cite> <a href="chapter-3-11.xhtml#noteref-7" epub:type="backlink">↩</a></p>
<p>Monseigneur Ricard, Honorary Vicar-General to the Archbishop of Aix, finely speaks of it (<i epub:type="se:name.publication.book" xml:lang="fr">Jeanne d’Arc la Vénérable</i>, page 197) as “that sublime reply, enduring in the history of celebrated sayings like the cry of a French and Christian soul wounded unto death in its patriotism and its faith.” <cite>—⁠Translator</cite> <a href="chapter-3-11.xhtml#noteref-7" epub:type="backlink">↩</a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-8" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Hog, pig. <a href="chapter-3-16.xhtml#noteref-8" epub:type="backlink">↩</a></p>
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</head>
<body epub:type="frontmatter z3998:non-fiction">
<section id="epigraph" epub:type="epigraph">
<p>Consider this unique and imposing distinction. Since the writing of human history began, Joan of Arc is the only person, of either sex, who has ever held supreme command of the military forces of a nation <em>at the age of seventeen</em>.</p>
<p epub:type="z3998:signature">Louis Kossuth</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Consider this unique and imposing distinction. Since the writing of human history began, Joan of Arc is the only person, of either sex, who has ever held supreme command of the military forces of a nation <em>at the age of seventeen</em>.</p>
<cite>Louis Kossuth</cite>
</blockquote>
</section>
</body>
</html>
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<h2 epub:type="title">A Peculiarity of Joan of Arc’s History</h2>
<p>The details of the life of Joan of Arc form a biography which is unique among the world’s biographies in one respect: <em>It is the only story of a human life which comes to us under oath, the only one which comes to us from the witness-stand.</em> The official records of the Great Trial of 1431, and of the Process of Rehabilitation of a quarter of a century later, are still preserved in the National Archives of France, and they furnish with remarkable fullness the facts of her life. The history of no other life of that remote time is known with either the certainty or the comprehensiveness that attaches to hers.</p>
<p>The Sieur Louis de Conte is faithful to her official history in his Personal Recollections, and thus far his trustworthiness is unimpeachable; but his mass of added particulars must depend for credit upon his word alone.</p>
<p>
<b>The Translator</b>
</p>
<footer>
<p epub:type="z3998:signature">The Translator</p>
</footer>
</section>
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<body epub:type="frontmatter z3998:fiction">
<section id="halftitlepage" epub:type="halftitlepage">
<h1 epub:type="title">Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc</h1>
<p>By</p>
<p>
<b>The Sieur Louis de Conte</b>
</p>
<p>(Her page and secretary)</p>
<p>Freely translated out of the ancient French into modern English from the original unpublished manuscript in the National Archives of France</p>
<p>By</p>
<p>
<b>Jean François Alden</b>
</p>
<p>By<br/>
<b>The Sieur Louis de Conte</b><br/>
(her page and secretary)</p>
<p>Freely translated out of the ancient French into modern English from the original unpublished manuscript in the National Archives of France<br/>
by<br/>
<b>Jean François Alden</b></p>
</section>
</body>
</html>
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<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xmlns:epub="http://www.idpf.org/2007/ops" epub:prefix="z3998: http://www.daisy.org/z3998/2012/vocab/structure/, se: https://standardebooks.org/vocab/1.0" xml:lang="en-US">
<head>
<title>The Sieur Louis de Conte</title>
<title>The Sieur Louis de Conte to His Great-Great-Grand Nephews and Nieces</title>
<link href="../css/core.css" rel="stylesheet" type="text/css"/>
<link href="../css/local.css" rel="stylesheet" type="text/css"/>
</head>
<body epub:type="frontmatter z3998:non-fiction">
<section id="preface-2" epub:type="preface">
<h2 epub:type="title">The Sieur Louis de Conte</h2>
<p>To his Great-Great-Grand Nephews and Nieces</p>
<h2 epub:type="title">The Sieur Louis de Conte<br/>
to His Great-Great-Grand Nephews and Nieces</h2>
<p>This is the year 1492. I am eighty-two years of age. The things I am going to tell you are things which I saw myself as a child and as a youth.</p>
<p>In all the tales and songs and histories of Joan of Arc, which you and the rest of the world read and sing and study in the books wrought in the late invented art of printing, mention is made of me, the Sieur Louis de Conte⁠—I was her page and secretary, I was with her from the beginning until the end.</p>
<p>I was reared in the same village with her. I played with her every day, when we were little children together, just as you play with your mates. Now that we perceive how great she was, now that her name fills the whole world, it seems strange that what I am saying is true; for it is as if a perishable paltry candle should speak of the eternal sun riding in the heavens and say, “He was gossip and housemate to me when we were candles together.” And yet it is true, just as I say. I was her playmate, and I fought at her side in the wars; to this day I carry in my mind, fine and clear, the picture of that dear little figure, with breast bent to the flying horse’s neck, charging at the head of the armies of France, her hair streaming back, her silver mail plowing steadily deeper and deeper into the thick of the battle, sometimes nearly drowned from sight by tossing heads of horses, uplifted sword-arms, wind-blow plumes, and intercepting shields. I was with her to the end; and when that black day came whose accusing shadow will lie always upon the memory of the mitered French slaves of England who were her assassins, and upon France who stood idle and essayed no rescue, my hand was the last she touched in life.</p>
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<a href="text/foreword.xhtml">A Peculiarity of Joan of Arc’s History</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="text/preface-2.xhtml">The Sieur Louis de Conte</a>
<a href="text/preface-2.xhtml">The Sieur Louis de Conte to His Great-Great-Grand Nephews and Nieces</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="text/halftitlepage.xhtml">Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc</a>
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<a href="text/foreword.xhtml" epub:type="frontmatter foreword">A Peculiarity of Joan of Arc’s History</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="text/preface-2.xhtml" epub:type="frontmatter preface">The Sieur Louis de Conte</a>
<a href="text/preface-2.xhtml" epub:type="frontmatter preface">The Sieur Louis de Conte to His Great-Great-Grand Nephews and Nieces</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="text/halftitlepage.xhtml" epub:type="frontmatter halftitlepage">Half Title</a>
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