Notes:
Jeanne d'Arc was not a name of one of Cardinal Richelieu's actual historical cats. Rather, she is a cat oc of mine, a kitten of Ludoviska's (who was one of Richelieu's cats historically). Originally, I did not intend for Jeanne to have much of a role in this story. However, she wormed her way into my head and demanded a bigger role. Characters, even animal characters, will sometimes do that to you. So here is a chapter about her.
Chapter 5: Jeanne d'Arc
Cardinal Richelieu was not happy.
His younger sister, Nicole, had come to see him. But this was not merely a social call. Nicole, Marie Madeleine, Jussac, Bicarat, Emil, Emil's wife Corinne, and Richelieu's secretary Monsieur Charpentier had all ganged up on him. They had staged something they called a "necessary intervention." They informed Richelieu that the four kittens, Jean Baptiste, Jeanne d'Arc, Mounard, and Rubis sur l'Ongle, were now old enough to leave their mother, and it was time for Richelieu to find new homes for them.
They weren't trying to be deliberately cruel to Richelieu. They, too, were fond of the cats. But they feared that if things went on in this manner, he might eventually end up with twenty cats, which would be problematic for everyone.
If any one of these people had said this to Richelieu on their own, he would probably have refused. But with the seven of them forming a united front, he was eventually forced to listen to them.
"Really, Armand!" Nicole tutted. "You have eight cats now. EIGHT!"
"Thank you, Nicole. I do know how to count."
Nicole ignored this remark. "Ludoviska may have more kittens in the future. You cannot have an unlimited number of cats. You need to be realistic. You don't have the room. And frankly, people have already begun to gossip about you and your cats. You don't want it to get worse."
Corinne, Emil's wife and Richelieu's laundress, spoke up. "Eminence, now that there are eight cats in this household, it's become more difficult for me to get all their hair off your clothes."
Monsieur Charpentier, Richelieu's secretary, put in his piece. "Last week, Mounard jumped on my desk. He knocked over my ink bottle, and it spilled on some important papers." He knew better than to say which papers in front of the other members of the household. "By the grace of God, I had copies. But it could happen again. And next time I might not have copies."
Finally, Bicarat spoke up. "Your Eminence, perhaps you should consider the risks of inbreeding."
He went on to point out that the kittens weren't really even kittens anymore but almost adult cats. Sooner or later, they might attempt to have kittens of their own. Keeping all the siblings together might create a risk for inbreeding.
The Comte de Rochefort had not been invited to the intervention. Marie had never liked him. She tolerated him for her uncle's sake, and because of her good breeding she was civil to him whenever they had to interact. However, she had felt no need to include him in the intervention for Uncle Armand.
Therefore, it was a surprise when Rochefort poked his head into the cardinal's study. He had clearly overheard at least part of the conversation. "Your Eminence, if you are interested in getting rid of any cats, I would be willing to take them to the Seine and dispose of them."
Richelieu's response used several words that should probably not have been used by a churchman. Jussac managed to grab Rochefort and frog march him away before Richelieu could lay hands on him.
"Please, Eminence, calm down," Emil begged. "We're not about to let the comte throw the kittens in the Seine. We just think you should find new homes for them."
"And it's not as if we're asking you to get rid of all the cats," put in Marie Madeleine. "Just the kittens. It might not even have to be all four of them. Even finding other homes for one or two of them would be an improvement."
Richelieu sighed. "But what if the people I give them to mistreat them?"
Nicole rolled her eyes in the same way she had done since they were children. "That, Armand, is why you vet people carefully. You don't have to hand kittens over to just anyone. You look for people who will give them good homes."
"Fine!" Richelieu snapped. "I'll think about it." What he did not say was that he was not looking forward to relocating the kittens, who he had grown attached to, and he had every intention of dragging his feet about it.
Unfortunately for Richelieu, Nicole knew he would drag his feet about relocating the kittens. So, she began the process herself. About a week after the intervention, she informed her brother that Father Allard, a priest of their acquaintance, was willing to take a cat. He could use a cat to keep mice from church books. Richelieu knew Father Allard, and knew he was far too mild and laid back to have the energy to abuse a cat. However, he still questioned the man extensively, gave him a laundry list of instructions on cat care, and made him swear on the bible to treat the cat well. Father Allard ended up choosing to take in Jean Baptiste. Perhaps having a cat with a religious name appealed to the priest. Richelieu said goodbye to the cat. It was some consolation that Father Allard assured him he could visit the cat if he wished.
Overall, finding a home for Jean Baptiste could have gone worse. All the same, Richelieu still intended to drag his feet about doing it with the remaining kittens.
"Non!"
Richelieu could not believe what Marie Madeleine and Emil were telling him. Had his niece and manservant lost their minds?
Marie was immovable. "Uncle Armand, two months have gone by since we spoke to you about trying to find cat homes, and you've made little to no effort to do so. We had to start looking ourselves."
"But why does it have to be him?"
"Do you think we didn't try to find other people first? It's not that easy. Too many people remember Rubis's conduct at the banquet for the Duke of Buckingham. Other people who weren't there have heard about it through the grape vine. A number of people don't want your cats because they think they must be badly behaved."
"That's not true! They're darlings! They just mess up sometimes like human children!"
"We know that, Eminence," said Emil. "But the general populace does not."
"We knew you would react this way," said Marie. "So, we tried asking other people. But he was the only taker. Besides, Ludoviska is expecting again. You need to be realistic about how many cats you have room for."
Richelieu sighed, because he knew she had a point. "But Jeanne d'Arc is a delicate, fragile, gentle, little lady!" Emil resisted the temptation to tell Richelieu how, just this morning, the delicate, fragile, gentle, little lady had pounced on a rat, disemboweled it, and laid the intestines at Emil's feet. "I cannot think of her living in that place! And with that man!"
Emil tried to be diplomatic. "Eminence, in spite of your,,,,personal issues with him, I have it on good authority that he is kind to animals."
Richelieu groaned. "Of all the people for me to have to give sweet, dainty Jeanne d'Arc to, I can't believe it has to be Jean de Treville!"
Jeanne d'Arc delighted in her new home at the garrison. She'd been nervous when she first arrived, but she adapted well. There were many places to explore. Her new human, Treville, smelled nice (most of the time) and he had warm, steady hands for patting. She'd heard Marie Madeleine say he was from some place called Gascony and his accent did sound a bit different from the other humans in Paris. Like some human males, he had fur on the lower part of his face. His fur was light brown with bits of gray. But for some reason, the fur on his head looked like it was getting a bit thin.
Regardless of how much hair he had, Treville was kind to Jeanne and it was clear to her that he needed a cat badly. She knew that many humans needed feline supervision, or they developed bad habits and became unmanageable.
Treville got very stressed at times. He did a lot of paperwork, not quite as much as Richelieu, but still a good deal. Sometimes it was necessary for Jeanne to jump on his desk or his lap. He would usually make some token, half-hearted protests and then he would pat her. Jeanne knew from watching Richelieu and the other cats that if a human did things with paper, it was a cat's duty to monitor them and enforce break time. It was for the humans' own good.
The first time it happened, Treville had been doing paperwork for over an hour. Jeanne decided enough was enough. She jumped on his desk.
"Jeanne d'Arc! What are you doing?"
Jeanne tickled his face with the tip of her tail.
"Now, Jeanne, mon petite, I need to finish this report for the king."
Jeanne fixed him with big, innocent, pleading, green eyes.
"Well, maybe a short break won't hurt."
Jeanne jumped off the desk and onto his lap, where she snuggled up to him and purred approvingly when he began to pat her.
Treville was in charge of the garrison and he worked very hard. There were a great many humans called Musketeers who inhabited the garrison. For some reason they all seemed to be male. Why it never occurred to them to have human females as musketeers was a mystery to Jeanne. They had long, sharp sticks called swords, which they used for hitting their enemies and sometimes each other. Jeanne supposed the humans needed something to compensate for their lack of proper claws.
Jeanne was the daughter of the rat catcher, Ludovic le Cruel, and she took her duty seriously when it came to keeping mice and rats from the garrison kitchen. Serge, the cook, rewarded her with praise and treats.
When Treville had had a long day dealing with the musketeers, Jeanne liked to give him some feline company with stress relieving cuddles and playing.
The musketeers respected Treville, even adored him, but that didn't stop them from causing a lot of trouble with which he had to deal. Sometimes he had to yell at the musketeers. But Jeanne realized it was because he worried about them. He cared about them as if they were his own kittens. And because Treville was now her human, and he cared about them, Jeanne supposed she would have to care about them too. Even if some of them were idiots.
One day Jeanne was exploring the garrison stables, keeping an eye out for mice or rats, when four musketeers walked in.
One of them caught sight of her. "What is that cat doing over there?"
"Haven't you heard?" said another. "That's Captain Treville's new cat."
Jeanne bristled. Captain Treville's cat? Did these buffoons not understand that Treville was her human?
The four musketeers advanced on Jeanne. Their voices were loud. They were all big and their hats made them look even bigger. One of them smelled funny, like wine. They all loomed over her. Jeanne backed away.
"Stop." Said one human. "Don't spook her."
"How do you know it's a her?" asked the biggest of the four humans.
"Just be quiet a moment, Porthos." The human dropped to his knees.
"Hello there," he spoke in a soft, non-threatening voice. His accent sounded a bit like Treville's. He held out his hand for Jeanne to sniff.
Cautiously Jeanne came over and sniffed his fingertips. He smelled fine. When he reached out to pat her, Jeanne allowed it. His hands were warm, careful, and gentle. Jeanne purred her approval. As he stroked her back and rubbed under her chin, it became clear that he had some experience stroking cats and knew how to do it properly. Eventually Jeanne was thoroughly blissed out and gave little resistance when the human scooped her up and held her against his chest.
"You're very good with that cat, D'Artagnan," remarked the human called Porthos.
D'Artagnan scratched behind Jeanne's right ear. "Back in Gascony, my family had a cat to keep mice away from the crops. You can pat her too if you want, but be gentle and don't crowd her when you do it. Let her sniff your hand first."
Porthos held out his hand. He had big, warm hands. Jeanne sniffed his fingers and decided he smelled alright. Porthos patted Jeanne. As big as his hands were, they were very gentle and Jeanne purred to let him know he was doing a good job.
"You're so soft," Porthos rubbed under Jeanne's chin. "What a good kitty!"
"Her name's Jeanne," said D'Artagnan. "Captain Treville told me."
"Jeanne," repeated one of the two remaining musketeers. "After Saint Jeanne d'Arc!" He smiled down at the cat. "Did you know that you are named after a saint, ma Cherie? She received visions of angels and led French troops to fight against the English."
Jeanne blinked. Did this human think she was completely ignorant? Of course she knew about her namesake. Marie Madeleine had chosen the name and told her the story.
D'Artagnan hummed. "It seems fitting that the cat of the garrison is named after a famous warrior.
Porthos chuckled. "She can be the musketeers' mascot!"
Jeanne perked up. She didn't know what a mascot was, but it sounded important. She was beginning to like this Porthos.
The human who'd described Jeanne's namesake said, "Porthos, move over. Let me have a turn patting her."
"Very well, Aramis, but remember, be gentle."
Aramis let Jeanne sniff his hand. Once she had deemed his scent acceptable, she permitted him to pat her. He had rather long fingers, and his touch was steady and gentle.
"You have a coat like silver velvet, little Jeanne d'Arc," he told her. "You're a little beauty." Jeanne preened at the compliment.
"You look like the Chartreux cat breed, or at least part Chartreux."
Perhaps this Aramis wasn't completely silly after all.
In this way, four fully grown, fierce, tough, dangerous soldiers were transformed into gushing, gentle, cooing, doting cat lovers.
Well, three of the four underwent the transformation.
"Athos," Aramis beckoned him. "Come take a turn patting the nice kitty!"
The remaining musketeer shook his head. "No thank you, I'll pass."
"Are you afraid of cats?"
"No."
"Do they make you sneeze?"
"No."
"Then why won't you pat the pretty kitty?"
"Because I simply don't feel the need to make a fuss over her. I also don't understand why you three do."
Porthos shrugged. "I'm secure enough in my masculinity to admit that I love sweet, fuzzy, kitties!"
Athos snorted. "Good for you. That doesn't mean that I have to love them."
"Fine," said Aramis. "Be a sourpuss!"
The next day, during the evening, Athos was sitting alone on a bench, brooding with a bottle of wine. At this time, he wanted to be alone with his gloomy thoughts.
Suddenly, something jumped up on the bench beside him, jostling his hand, and causing him to spill some wine over his lap. It was that cat!
Athos cursed at the cat. "Nosey creature! Don't you know when to leave well alone?"
The cat gazed up at Athos. The look in her big, innocent, green eyes was positively hurt.
Athos immediately felt like a huge jerk. "I'm sorry. I know it was an accident. You can sit there if you want. I'm afraid I won't be very good company, though. And I don't have any treats you would like. I don't believe cats care for Anjou wine."
The cat-what was her name? Jeanne d'Arc? -either didn't understand or didn't care because she didn't move from her spot beside Athos. She butted her head against his arm. Athos put the bottle aside so it wouldn't spill again. The cat continued butting him.
Athos eyed his surroundings very carefully. There was no one around to watch. Very slowly, he held out his hand for Jeanne to sniff. Then, gingerly, as if she might break if he moved too fast, he stroked the cat's head.
Jeanne had the stocky, muscular build characteristic of Chartreux cats. Her gray fur was so soft that stroking her felt addictive and he found himself unable to stop. Under his ministrations, she purred. It was a surprisingly loud, rumbling purr for such a small creature.
Sitting there, stroking the cat, and listening to her purr, Athos's gloomy thoughts did not vanish, but somehow, they did feel less heavy than before.
"Athos! What are doing?"
Athos barely managed not to jump.
Aramis was coming toward them, grinning like a cat who'd caught a canary. "So even the great Athos can't resist the charms of Jeanne d'Arc?"
Athos scowled defensively. "I was just sitting here, minding my own business, and she showed up! She wouldn't leave me alone!"
"Now Athos, there's no shame in giving affection to such a dear, sweet cat."
Athos shifted uncomfortably. "I trust you won't mention this to Porthos or D'Artagnan."
"Too late." As if summoned by their names, Porthos and D'Artagnan came out of the shadows, both grinning manically.
Athos groaned. "I'm never going to live this down, am I?"
"Never!"
A few days later, Jeanne was patrolling the garrison stables on the lookout for mice, minding her own business, when she came upon Porthos and Aramis.
Aramis flashed his teeth. "There's the beautiful girl we've been looking for!"
Porthos looked less cheerful. "Remind me why we're doing this again?"
"Well, it was sort of your idea in the first place."
"My idea?"
"You're the one who said Jeanne could be the musketeers' mascot."
"I never meant for you to take it this far! She's not going to like it."
"Oh, stop fussing and get the cat for me."
Porthos rolled his eyes, but still picked up Jeanne gently.
Aramis addressed the cat: "Jeanne d'Arc, sweetheart, we have a lovely present for you!"
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue satin ribbon.
Jeanne's eyes gleamed. A toy! This was a good present!
"Where did you even get that ribbon from anyway?" asked Porthos.
"I gave a theology lesson to a respectable woman and she gave me this in return."
"Theology lesson! Is that what they're calling it these days?"
"Just hold the cat still for me!"
Jeanne didn't understand. He'd said the toy was for her. So why didn't he give it to her?
Aramis spoke again. "Jeanne d'Arc, as the musketeers' mascot, you can wear the musketeers' color."
Then, to Jeanne's horror, he tied the ribbon in a bow around her neck! What was he thinking? How was she supposed to play with the toy that way? Jeanne tried to squirm away, but Porthos held her in place until Aramis had finished tying off the bow.
"There," Aramis beamed. "Now you look beautiful!"
Beautiful? These silly creatures clearly had no idea how toys were supposed to work. Jeanne finally managed to wriggle out of Porthos's grip and ran off, hissing and spitting.
Cardinal Richelieu rode in his carriage to the garrison to bring Treville some important messages from the king. This was purely a professional visit. It definitely had nothing to do with missing Jeanne and wanting to know how she was doing at the garrison.
He ignored the little voice in his head that said he could have easily had one of his underlings deliver the messages.
When Richelieu arrived in Treville's office, he was met with an interesting sight: Captain Treville was sitting at his desk, looking over some paperwork, with Jeanne curled up on his lap.
When Jeanne saw Richelieu, she jumped off Treville's lap and ran over to rub against the cardinal's legs.
Richelieu couldn't help it: he scooped Jeanne up, cuddled her against his chest, and buried his nose in her soft gray fur. He looked her over. She seemed unharmed and healthy.
"Your Eminence," was that a note of amusement in Treville's voice?
Hastily Richelieu schooled his features into a serious expression, though he couldn't bring himself to put Jeanne down. "I've brought you some missives from His Majesty."
"Of course you have. How considerate of you to bring them in person." Was Treville smirking under his beard?
He couldn't stand it any longer. "How has Jeanne d'Arc been doing?"
Now that was definitely a smile, though there was nothing mocking about it. "She's settled in wonderfully. She's brought a reign of terror on the mice and rats." Richelieu felt a stab of pride at that. "With fewer rodents trying to sample his cooking, Serge adores her. In fact, I'm fairly sure about half the garrison loves her."
Richelieu resisted the temptation to ask Only half? Is the other half mentally incompetent?
The captain continued to tell Richelieu how Jeanne was doing. Whatever Treville's other faults were, he seemed to be a competent cat owner. The cardinal was forced to admit it seemed that Treville was doing right by the cat, and that Jeanne was thriving.
At one point during the conversation, Jeanne squirmed to get down from Richelieu's arms. Once on the floor, she trotted over to her dove gray cushion and picked something nearby up in her mouth. She came back, carrying the thing between her teeth over to the cardinal. It turned out to be a long, very dirty, raggedy ribbon, which looked as if it had once been blue.
"What's this?" Richelieu asked.
"Oh, that. For some reason Aramis thought it would be a good idea to dress Jeanne up by tying a ribbon in the musketeers' shade of blue around her neck. Something about her being the musketeers' mascot. But sweet little Jeanne knows her own mind and decided she likes it better as a toy."
Richelieu chuckled.
"You know," said Treville thoughtfully. "If you need to come here more often, you can. For paperwork, and other business of course." His eyes twinkled.
Richelieu swallowed, then nodded. "Thank you."
And that was exactly what he did. Of course, he usually came up with an excuse: bringing a message from the king, going over paperwork, discussing security details for events at the palace, etc. But behind the closed door of Treville's office, he was able to see how Jeanne was doing, play with her, and hold her. Many musketeers had no idea why the cardinal's visits to their captain lasted so long!
Notes:
In real life, Cardinal Richelieu did have a sister named Nicole and a secretary named Denis Charpentier.
Corinne is an oc. I might or might not write more about her later.
Aramis's line about giving a theology lesson to a respectable woman is a nod to the film of The Three Musketeers made in 1993. In that movie, there is a scene where he is reading the Book of Genesis to a woman and they end up kissing.
Some people may be wondering why Cardinal Richelieu doesn't have his cats fixed in order to avoid having too many of them. It is because, so far as I know, fixing cats wasn't easy to do in the seventeenth century. Livestock could be sterilized, but cats and dogs were another matter. Giving the kittens away may seem sad, but it is more humane than drowning, which was another method people of that time used to deal with unwanted litters. That being said, Richelieu's family and staff think they are going to reign in how many cats he has but they have no idea that he will still eventually end up with fourteen of them!