by Various
CHAPTER XII--HOW THE MAID CAME TO ORLEANS, AND OF THE DOLOROUS STROKETHAT FIRST SHE STRUCK IN WAR
Concerning the ways of the saints, and their holy counsel, it is not forsinful men to debate, but verify their ways are not as our ways, as shallpresently be shown, in the matter of the Maid's march to Orleans.
For the town of Blois, where now we lay, is, as all men know, on theright bank of the water of Loire, a great river, wider and deeper andstronger by far than our Tay or Tweed, and the town of Orleans, whitherwe were bound, is also on the same side, namely, the right side of theriver. Now, Orleans was beleaguered in this manner: The great stonebridge had been guarded, on the left, or further side of the stream,first by a boulevard, or strong keep on the land, whence by a drawbridgemen crossed to a yet stronger keep, called "Les Tourelles," builded onthe last arches of the bridge. But early in the siege the English hadtaken from them of Orleans the boulevard and Les Tourelles, and an archof the bridge had been broken, so that in nowise might men-at-arms of theparty of France enter into Orleans by way of that bridge from the leftbank through the country called Sologne.
Yet that keep, Les Tourelles, had not been a lucky prize to our enemiesof England. For their great captain, the Lord Salisbury, had a custom towatch them of Orleans and their artillery from a window in that tower,and, to guard him from arrow-shots, he had a golden shield pierced withlittle holes to look through, that he held before his face. One day hecame into this turret when they who worked the guns in Orleans were allat their meat. But it so chanced that two boys, playing truant fromschool, went into a niche of the wall, where was a cannon loaded andaimed at Les Tourelles. They, seeing the gleam of the golden shield atthe window of the turret, set match to the touch-hole of the cannon, and,as Heaven would have it, the ball struck a splinter of stone from theside of the window, which, breaking through the golden shield, slew myLord of Salisbury, a good knight. Thus plainly that tower was to be oflittle comfort to the English.
None the less, as they held Les Tourelles and the outer landwardboulevard thereof, the English built but few works on the left side ofthe river, namely, Champ St. Prive, that guarded the road by the leftbank from Blois; Les Augustins, that was a little inland from theboulevard of Les Tourelles, so that no enemy might pass between these twoholds; and St. Jean le Blanc, that was higher up the river, and a hold ofno great strength. On the Orleans side, to guard the road from Burgundy,the English had but one fort, St. Loup, for Burgundy and the north wereof their part, and by this way they expected no enemy. But all aboutOrleans, on the right bank of the river, to keep the path from Blois onthat hand, the English had builded many great bastilles, and had joinedthem by hollow ways, wherein, as I said, they lived at ease, as men in asecure city underground. And the skill of it was to stop convoys offood, and starve them of Orleans, for to take the town by open force theEnglish might in nowise avail, they being but some four thousand men-at-arms.
Thus Matters stood, and it was the Maid's mind to march her men and allthe cattle clean through and past the English bastilles on the right sideof the river, and by inspiration she well knew that no man would comeforth against us. Moreover, she saw not how, by the other way, and theleft bank, the cattle might be ferried across, and the great company ofmen-at-arms, into Orleans town, under the artillery of the English. Forthe English held the pass of the broken bridge, as I said, and thereforeall crossing of the water must be by boat.
Now, herein it was shown, as often again, that the ways of the saints arenot as our ways. For the captains, namely, the Sieur de Rais (whoafterwards came to the worst end a man might), and La Hire, and Ambroisede Lore, and De Gaucourt, in concert with the Bastard of Orleans, thencommanding for the King in that town, gave the simple Maid to understandthat Orleans was on the left bank of the river. This they did, becausethey were faithless and slow of belief, and feared that so great acompany as ours might in nowise pass Meun and Beaugency, towns of theEnglish, and convey so many cattle through the bastilles on the rightbank. Therefore, with many priests going before, singing the VeniCreator, with holy banners as on a pilgrimage; with men-at-arms, archers,pages, and trains of carts; and with bullocks rowting beneath the goad,and swine that are very hard to drive, and slow-footed sheep, we allcrossed the bridge of Blois on the morning of April 25th.
Now, had the holy saints deemed it wise and for our good to act as mendo, verily they would have spoken to the Maid, telling her that we wereall going clean contrary to her counsel. Nevertheless, the saints heldtheir peace, and let us march on. Belike they designed that this shouldturn to the greater glory of the Maid and to the confusion of them thatdisbelieved, which presently befell, as I shall relate.
All one day of spring we rode, and slept beneath the stars, the Maidlying in her armour, so that as one later told me who knew, namely,Elliot, her body was sorely bruised with her harness. Early in themorning we mounted again, and so rode north, fetching a compass inland;after noontide we came to a height, and lo! beneath us lay the Englishbastilles and holds on the left bank, and, beyond the glittering riverand the broken bridge, the towers and walls of Orleans. Then I saw theMaid in anger, for well she knew that she had been deceived by them whoshould have guided her. Between us and the town of Orleans lay the wideriver, the broken bridge, and the camps of the English. On the furthershore we beheld the people swarming on the walls and quays, labouring tolaunch boats with sails, and so purposing to ascend the river against thestream and meet us two leagues beyond the English lines. But this theymight not do, for a strong wind was blowing down stream, and all theirvessels were in disarray.
The Maid spurred to the front, where were De Rais, Lore, Kennedy, and LaHire. We could see her pointing with her staff, and hear speech high andangry, but the words we could not hear. The captains looked downcast, aschildren caught in a fault, and well they might, for we were now as faroff victualling Orleans as ever we had been. The Maid pointed to theEnglish keep at St. Jean le Blanc, on our side of the water, and, as itseems, was fain to attack it; but the English had drawn off their men tothe stronger places on the bridge, and to hold St. Jean le Blanc againstthem, if we took it, we had no strength. So we even wended, from theheight of Olivet, for six long miles, till we reached the stream oppositeChecy, where was an island. A rowing-boat, with a knight in glitteringarms, was pulled across the stream, and the Maid, in her eagerness,spurred her steed deep into the water to meet him. He was a young man,brown of visage, hardy and fierce, and on his shield bore the lilies ofOrleans, crossed with a baton sinister. He bowed low to the Maid, whocried--
"Are you the Bastard of Orleans?"
"I am," he said, "and right glad of your coming."
"Was it you who gave counsel that I should come by this bank, and not bythe other side, and so straight against Talbot and the English?"
She spoke as a master to a faulty groom, fierce and high, and to hear herwas marvel.
"I, and wiser men than I, gave that counsel," said he, "deeming thiscourse the surer."
"Nom Dieu!" she cried. "The council of Messire is safer and wiser thanyours." She pointed to the rude stream, running rough and strong, agreat gale following with it, so that no sailing-boats might come fromthe town. "You thought to beguile me, and are yourselves beguiled, for Ibring you better succour than ever came to knight or town--the help ofthe King of Heaven."
Then, even as she spoke, and as by miracle, that fierce wind went rightabout, and blew straight up the stream, and the sails of the vesselsfilled.
"This is the work of our Lord," said the Bastard of Orleans, crossinghimself: and the anger passed from the eyes of the Maid.
Then he and Nicole de Giresme prayed her to pass the stream with them,and to let her host march back to Blois and so come to Orleans, crossingby the bridge of Blois. To this she said nay, that she could not leaveher men out of her sight, lest they fell to sin again, and all her painswere lost. But, with many prayers, her confessor Pasquerel joining inthem, she was brought to consent. So the host,
with priests and banners,must set forth again to Blois, while the Maid, and we that were of hercompany, crossed the river in boats, and so rode towards the town. Onthis way (the same is a road of the old Romans) the English held a strongfort, called St. Loup, and well might they have sallied forth against us.But the people of Orleans, who ever bore themselves more hardily than anytownsfolk whom I have known, made an onfall against St. Loup, that theEnglish within might not sally out against us, where was fierce fighting,and they took a standard from the English.
So, at nightfall, the Maid, with the Bastard and other captains at herside, rode into the town, all the people welcoming her with torches inhand, shouting Noel! as to a king, throwing flowers before her horse'sfeet, and pressing to touch her, or even the harness of her horse, whichleaped and plunged, for the fire of a torch caught the fringe of herbanner. Lightly she spurred and turned him, and lightly she caught atthe flame with her hand and quenched it, while all men marvelled at hergrace and goodly bearing.
Never saw I more joy of heart, for whereas all had feared to fall intothe hands of the English, now there was such courage in them, as ifMonseigneur St. Michael himself, or Monseigneur St Aignan, had come downfrom heaven to help his good town. If they were hardy before, as indeedthey were, now plainly they were full of such might and fury that manmight not stand against them. And soon it was plain that no less fearhad fallen on the English. But the Maid, with us who followed her, wasled right through the great street of Orleans, from the Burgundy gate tothe gate Regnart, whereby the fighting was ever most fell, and there welodged in the house of the Treasurer of the Duke of Orleans, JacquetBoucher. Never was sleep sweeter to me, after the two weary marches, andthe sounds of music and revelry in the street did not hum a moment in myears, before I had passed into that blessed world of slumber without adream.
But my waking next day brought instantly the thought of my brother Robin,concerning whom I had ever feared that he fell with the flower ofScotland, when the Comte de Clermont deserted us so shamefully on the dayof the Battle of the Herrings. No sooner did this doubt come into mymind, than I leaped from my bed, attired myself, and went forth to thequarters of the Scots under Sir Christian Chambers. Little need I had totell my errand, for they that met me guessed who I was, because, indeed,Robin and I favoured each other greatly in face and bodily presence.
It was even as I had deemed: my dear brother and friend and tutor of olddays had died, charging back upon the English who pursued us, andfighting by the side of Pothon de Xaintrailles. All that day, and in theweek which followed, my thought was ever upon him; a look in a stranger'sface, a word on another's lips, by some magic of the mind would bring mybrother almost visibly before me, ay, among the noise of swords on mail,and the screaming of arrows, and of great cannon-balls.
If I heard ill news, it was no more than I looked for; but better news,as it seemed, I also heard, though, in my sorrow, I marked it little. Forthe soldiers were lamenting the loss of their famed gunner, not John theLorrainer, but one who had come to them, they said, now some weeks agone,in the guise of a cordelier, though he did not fight in that garb, but incommon attire, and ever wore his vizor down, which men deemed strange.Whither he had gone, or how disappeared, they knew not, for he had notbeen with those who yesterday attacked St. Loup.
"He could never thole the thought of the Blessed Maid," said AllanRutherford, "but would tell all that listened how she was a brain-sickwench, or a witch, and under her standard he would never fight. He evenavowed to us that she had been a chamber-wench of an inn in Neufchateau,and there had learned to back a horse, and many a worse trick," which wasa lie devised by the English and them of Burgundy. But, go where hewould, or how he would, I deemed it well that Brother Thomas and I (forof a surety it was Brother Thomas) were not to meet in Orleans.
Concerning the English in this wonderful adventure of the siege, I havenever comprehended, nor do I now know, wherefore they bore them as theydid. That they sallied not out on the trains which the Maid led andbrought into the town, a man might set down to mere cowardice and faintheart--they fearing to fight against a witch, as they deemed her. Inlater battles, when she had won so many a victory, they may well havefeared her. But, as now, they showed no dread where honour was to bewon, but rather pride and disdain. On this very Saturday, the morrow ofour arrival, La Hire, with Florent d'Illiers and many other knights,pushed forth a matter of two bowshots from the city walls, and took akeep that they thought to have burned. They were very hardy men, andbeing comforted by the Maid's coming, were full of courage and goodwill;yet the English rallied and drove them back, with much firing of guns,and now first I heard the din of war and saw the great stone balls fly,scattering, as they fell, into splinters that screamed in the air, with avery terrible sound. Truly the English had the better of that fray, andwere no whit adread, for at sunset the Maid sent them two heralds,bidding them begone; yet they answered only that they would burn her fora witch, and called her a ribaulde, or loose wench, and bade her go backand keep her kine.
I was with her when this message came, and her brows met and her eyesflashed with anger. Telling us of her company to follow, she went to theFair Cross on the bridge, where now her image stands, fashioned inbronze, kneeling before the Cross, with the King kneeling opposite. Thereshe stood and cried aloud to the English, who were in the fort on theother side of the bridge that is called Les Tourelles, and her voice rangacross the water like a trumpet, so that it was marvel. Then came out onto the bridge a great knight and a tall, Sir William Glasdale; no biggerman have I seen, and I bethought me of Goliath in Holy Scripture. Hespoke in a loud, north-country voice, and, whereas she addressed himcourteously, as she did all men, he called her by the worst of names,mocking at her for a ribaulde. She made answer that he lied, and that heshould die in four days' time or five, without stroke of sword; and so,waving her hand haughtily, turned and went back. But I, who walked closeby her, noted that she wept like any girl at his evil and lyingaccusations.
Next day was Sunday, and no stroke was struck, but the Bastard of Orleansset forth to bring back the army from Blois. And on Monday the Maid rodeout and under the very walls of the English keeps, the townsfolk runningby her rein, as if secure in her company; yet no man came forth againstthem, which was marvel. And on the Wednesday, the Maid, with manyknights, rode forth two leagues, and met the Bastard of Orleans and allthe array from Blois, and all the flocks and herds that were sent toOrleans by the good towns. Right beneath the forts of the English theyrode and marched, with chanting of hymns, priests leading the way, butnone dared meddle with them. Yet a child might have seen that now ornever was the chance: howbeit Talbot and Glasdale and Scales, men welllearned in war, let fire not even a single cannon. It may be that theyfeared an attack of the Orleans folk on their bastilles, if they drew outtheir men. For, to tell the plain truth, the English had not men-at-armsenough for the task they took in hand; but they oft achieve much with butlittle force, and so presume the more, sometimes to their undoing. And,till the Maid came, ten of them could chase a hundred of the French.
So the Maid returned, leading the army, and then, being very weary, shewent into her chamber, and lay down on a couch to sleep, her esquire,D'Aulon, also resting in the room, where were the lady and a daughter ofthe house, one Charlotte Boucher. There was I, devising idly with herpage, Louis de Coutes, a boy half Scots by birth, and good-brother toMessire Florent d'Illiers, who had married his sister. But alas! he wasmore French than Scots, and later he left the Maid. But then we wereplaying ourselves at the door of the house, and all was still, the men-at-arms reposing, as we deemed, after their march. Then suddenly the Maidran forth to us, her face white and her eyes shining, and cried to Louisde Coutes, in great anger--
"Wretched boy, the blood of France is being shed, and you told me no wordof it!"
"Demoiselle," said he, trembling, "I wotted not of it. What mean you?"
And I also stood in amaze, for we had heard no sound of arms.
I went with him, and we saddled and bridled a fresh courser speedily; butwhen we reached the door, she stood there already armed, and sprang onthe horse, crying for her banner, that De Coutes gave her out of theupper window. Then her spurs were in her horse's side, and the sparksflying from beneath his hoofs, as she galloped towards St. Loup, theEnglish fort on the Burgundy road. Thither we followed her, with whatspeed we might, yet over tardily; and when we came through crowds ofpeople, many bearing the wounded on litters, there was she, under thewall of that fort, in a rain of arrows, holding up her banner, and cryingon the French and Scots to the charge. They answered with a cry, andwent on, De Coutes and I pressing forward to be with them; but ere everwe could gain the fosse, the English had been overwhelmed, and, for themore part, slain. For, as we found, the French captains had commanded anattack on St. Loup, and had told the Maid no word of it, whether asdesiring to win honour without her, or to spare her from the peril of theonslaught, I know not. But their men were giving ground, when by themonition of the saints, as I have shown, she came to them and turned thefray.
Of the English, as I said, most were slain, natheless certain men inpriests' raiment came forth from the Church of St. Loup, and very humblybegged their lives of the Maid, who, turning to D'Aulon, her esquire,bade him, with De Coutes and me, and such men as we could gather, to havecharge of them and be answerable for them.
So, while the French were plundering, we mustered these priests orderlytogether, they trembling and telling their beads, and we stood beforethem for their guard. False priests, I doubt, many of them were,Englishmen who had hastily done on such holy robes as they found in thechurch of St Loup. Now Louis de Coutes, being but a boy, and of a madhumour, cried--
"'Cucullus non facit monachum!' Good sirs, let us see your reverendtonsures."
With that he twitched the hood from the head of a tall cordelier, who,without more ado, felled him to the earth with his fist.
The hood was off but for a flash of time, yet I saw well the shiningwolf's eyes and the long dark face of Brother Thomas. So, in thepictures of the romance of Renard Fox, have I seen Isengrim the wolf inthe friar's hood.
"Felon and traitor!" I cried, and drawing my sword, was about to run himthrough the body, when my hand was stunned by a stroke, and the sworddropped from it. I turned, in great anger, and saw the Maid, her swordin her hand, wherewith she had smitten me flatlings, and not with theedge.
"Knave of a Scot," she cried, "wouldst thou strike a holy man and myprisoner? Verily they say well that the Scots are all savages. Begonehome, till I speak with the captains about thy case! And for these holymen," she said to D'Aulon, in a soft voice, "see that they are safelyhoused and ministered to in the Church of Monseigneur St. Aignan."
With that I shrank back like a beaten hound, and saw the Maid no morethat night, as fearing her wrath. So was I adread and out of allcomfort. But, when first I might, I sought D'Aulon and told him all thetale of Brother Thomas, and all the evil I knew of him, as well as Icould, and I showed him wherefore I had sought to slay the man, asforsworn and a traitor, who had manifestly fled to the English, being byhis doggish nature the enemy of the Maid. I so wrought with him, thoughhe was weary, and would scarce listen to my tale, that he promised tospeak for me to the Maid, without whom I was a man lost. Moreover, heswore that, as early as might be, he would visit the Church of St.Aignan, and there examine into the matter of this cordelier, whom someknew, and could testify against, if he was my man.
No more could I do that night, but next morning D'Aulon awoke me a littleafter dawn.
"It is a true tale," he said, "and worse than I deemed, for your bird hasflown! Last night he so spoke with me in the church when I lodged himthere, that I reckoned him a simple man and a pious. But he has vanishedfrom among his brethren, none knows how or whither."
"The devil, his master, knows," I said. "Faith, he has a shrewd care ofhis own. But this, I misdoubt me, is the beginning of evil to us and tothe Maid."
"A knave more or less is of little count in the world," said he; "but nowI must make your peace with the Maid, for she speaks of no less thansending you forth from her household."
His promise he kept so well--for he was a very honourable man, as any inFrance--that the Maid sent for me and showed me the best countenance,even begging my pardon with all sweetness, and in so fair a manner that Icould have wept.
"It was my first blow in war," she said, smiling kindly, as was hermanner, "and I hope to strike no more as with my own hand, wherefore Icarry my banner to avoid the slaying of men. But verily I deemed thatyou were about stabbing my prisoner, and him a priest. Belike we shallhear no more of him, and I misdoubt that he is no true son of HolyChurch. To-day let me see you bear yourself as boldly against armed men,that I may report well of you to your lady and my friend."
Therewith she held out her hands and took mine, as frankly as does onebrother in arms with another. And I kissed her hand, and kept my tearsin my own heart. But no deadlier blow for France and for herself wasever dealt than when the Maid struck down my sword, that was thirstingfor the blood of Brother Thomas, and was within an inch of his throat.Often have I marvelled how the saints, who, as then, guarded her, gaveher no warning, as they did of the onslaught on St. Loup; but it mightnot be, or it was not their will, to which we must humbly submitourselves. And now I think I see that wolf's face, under the hood, withanger and fear in the ominous eyes. In the Church of St. Loup we foundhim, and he was a wolf of the holy places. None the less, the words ofthe Maid brought more keenly to my mind the thought of Elliot, whom inthese crowded hours, between my sorrow and anger, and fear of the Maid'swrath, I had to some degree forgotten. They were now ordering anonslaught on a post of the English beyond the river, and there came intomy heart that verse of the "Book of a Hundred Ballades": how a lover mustpress into breach, and mine, and escalade to win advancement and hislady's favour; and I swore within myself that to-day I would be among theforemost.