That was the Burgundian and the English point of view. Jeanne’s point of view was quite different. She wanted to get back into the field as soon as she possibly could. She quite agreed with her friends at Reims that the Burgundians were not to be trusted. At the same time, she was also forced, through loyalty, to agree with her King who was responsible for the truce. She could not, outwardly, disagree with him; she could only, inwardly, fret.
Nevertheless the time of her inactivity was drawing to an end, and at the end of March she left the King at Sully and joined a small force at Lagny-sur-Mame under the command of a French captain called Baretta, a Scotsman called Kennedy, and her old acquaintance, Ambroise de Loré. The rest of her band was scattered: she must have missed d’Alençon, the Bastard, and the others, but she was, at least, a soldier once more and not an impatient appendage to the Court. At first things seemed to be going well: Melun, which had been in the hands of the English for ten years, but which in the previous October had been given by the Dulce of Bedford to Burgundy, suddenly rose of its own accord and threw out the Burgundians. This gesture was not unnaturally attributed to Jeanne’s reappearance in the field, and it must have added to her happiness to reflect that this first and signal success had occurred near the feast of Easter. She, to whom the feasts of the Church always meant so much, must indeed have felt that, with the great festival of Resurrection, the hopes of France had revived also. Her thoughts turned again towards Paris.
Meanwhile, she was at Melun, and it was while standing on the ramparts of that city that she received a visit from Saint Catherine and Saint Margaret, giving her perhaps the cruellest piece of news she had ever heard from their lips. They had accustomed her to encouragement and advice, but now they came with no advice, with nothing but the warning that before the feast of Saint Jolm came round she would be taken. Coming at this moment, in the flush of victory and the ringing of the Easter bells not yet stilled upon the air, it must have been a bitter blow. She relates the circumstances herself in quiet, resigned phrases through which it is not difficult to discover the disheartenment which overcame her.fn20
It was one thing to fight on, even strugglin;g against apathy, reluctance, and treachery; it was quite another thing to fight with the certainty of capture and failure ahead. For to Jeanne, of course, whatever her voices said was certainty, and their constant comfort and counsel had now been replaced by the gravest note of warning. They came to her nearly every day after that, she said, and repeated their solemn prophecy: that she must be taken; that she must not be surprised; that she must take everything as it came, and that God would help her. There was at least some comfort in that last assurance. It emboldened her to ask for further details. She wanted to know the hour of her capture, adding, rather piteously, that, had she known it, she would not have gone out. Oddly enough, she never seems to have made any enquiries about the place: it is only the hour which interests her. But they would not tell her, only repeated that it had to be, and that she must take it well (print tout en gré). She begged, also, that she might die when she was captured, and thus be spared the long vexation of prison, but to this they made no reply. Still, she added bravely, she would have gone out if the voices had commanded her to do so; she would not have gone willingly, but, all the same, she would have obeyed their orders to the end, whatever happened to her.fn21
She spent nearly a month waiting for the sword to fall, for it was not until May 23rd that she was taken into captivity.
IX
She had gone from Melun to Lagny, where, with Kennedy, Baretta, and Ambroise de Loré’s lieutenant, she achieved a brilliant minor success against a small English marauding party. The engagement at Lagny laid up a store of future trouble for Jeanne, and drew the censure of the judges at her trial over an incident where, I think, censure seems to have been deserved. A Burgundian captain, named Franquet d’Arras, was taken prisoner, either by Jeanne herself or by one of her company, and exchanged by her for the landlord of the Bear Inn in Paris. Why she should have wanted the landlord of the Bear Inn is not stated, but when she heard that he had died before he could be handed over, she said to the bailli of Senlis, ‘Since my man is dead, whom I wanted, do with this one [i.e. Franquet d’Arras] that which is required by justice.’ Franquet in consequence was given a trial lasting a fortnight, found guilty of murder, robbery, and treachery, and was executed.fn22 No doubt he deserved his sentence, and, indeed, confessed his crimes himself, but I cannot see that the incident does any credit to Jeanne. If she was quite ready to spare Franquet when she thought she could exchange him for the other man, it was scarcely fair to make him suffer for a mishap which was certainly not his fault.
It is at Lagny that the miraculous sword of Fierbois makes its last appearance in Jeanne’s history. She herself stated that she had had it there, but that after Lagny she had carried the sword ofa Burgundian, which was a good sword, a proper sword with which to give good blows and buffets, de bonnes buffes et de bons torchons. When they asked her where she had lost the other one, she replied that that did not concern the trial and that she would not answer.fn23 According to popular tradition, she had broken it across the back of a courtesan, but the chroniclers do not agree where this incident took place. They do agree, however, in saying that the King, on hearing of it, was displeased, and remarked that she ought to have used a stick; Jean Chartier picturesquely adds that the armourers found it impossible to mend it, which was an additional proof of its divine origin.fn24
It was at Lagny, too, that she was credited with the miracle of restoring a dead baby to life.fn25
From Lagny she went to Senlis. The King meanwhile was still trying to negotiate the peace which Jeanne had declared to be impossible save at the point of the lance, but even to his obstinacy it was becoming clear that neither the English nor the Burgundians had the slightest intention of agreeing with him on terms favourable to the torn and wretched France. Nothing but a victory even more complete than Jeanne’s first campaign had inaugurated at Orleans would drive the foreigner from the country and reduce the great duke to the status of a dutiful vassal. It looked as though this second campaign were about to begin, almost exactly a year after the first, but with what a difference to Jeanne! She had always known that a year was her allowance of time – she now knew more specifically that she was to be in the hands of her enemies before midsummer. It was getting on for the end of April, and on the 23rd the little English king landed with his army at Calais.
It was obvious that the English and the Burgundian forces would wish to join; it was equally obvious that they would wish to capture the loyally recalcitrant town of Compiègne, which had refused to be handed over to Burgundy at the suggestion of Charles VII, and which, so long as it remained in the possession of the French, constituted a strong position from which to threaten Paris. (The map here will make the geographical situation clearer than any amount of explanation in words.) It will be seen that Compiègne lies on the south, or Paris, side of the river Oise, near its confluence with the river Aisne, and that the question of bridges was vital to any army or armies wishing to operate in the Ile de France, the province lying on that side of the two rivers. Now both the English and the Burgundian armies were on the wrong sides of the rivers: the English, with some Burgundians, had arrived opposite Compiègne, the Oise dividing them from the town; the Duke of Burgundy, with his main force, had arrived at Noyon. Since he had marched from Montididier to Noyon (via Gournay) it was reasonable to suppose that he would cross the Oise by the bridge at Pont l’Evêque, then held by the English, and would then swoop down on Choisy-le-Bac when, if he could carry out his intention of capturing it, Compiègne would lie open to his attack. To thwart this plan, Jeanne, with her old comrade Po ton de Saintrailles, left Compiègne for Pont l’Evêque, which they attacked at dawn (May 14th). In the old days, they might have carried the bridge, and, in fact, were on the point of doing so when the garrison of Noyon, arriving post-haste from two miles away, drove them back. Two days later Choisy capitul
ated to the Duke of Burgundy, who immediately destroyed the fortress and flung a bridge across the Oise.fn26
X
Choisy being now held by the Burgundians, it was very necessary for the French to recover it as soon as possible if they were not to be left without any bridge across the Aisne nearer than Soissons. Unless they could freely cross the Aisne, they could not take the Burgundians in the rear, but for the moment they were constrained to go round by Soissons, a little more than twenty miles away. Accompanied by the Count of Vendôme and by the Archbishop of Reims, in whose company she now rode for the last time, Jeanne accordingly rode to Soissons. The Count of Vendôme had been a good friend to her; it was he who had first introduced her into the presence of the Dauphin at Chinon; it was he who had rejoiced with her when Charles’ scheme of retiring to the Loire was thwarted after the coronation.fn27 The Archbishop had been a false friend; he had gone against her in secret whenever he could, and had flattered her wishes openly whenever he saw that no other choice would avail him. On the very day when he knew her to be a prisoner and safely out of the way, he hastened to write to the citizens of Reirns, a most displeasing letter, since even then he dared not come out into the open and express his opinion of her in his own name, but must needs quote a young impostor known as le Berger, as having declared that God had allowed the Pucelle to be taken because she was so full of pride and had not acted according to God’s will, but only according to her own.fn28 A mean and poisonous man, one wonders what his private feelings had been when, as the representative of God on earth, he found himself constrained, by virtue of his holy office, to set the crown on Charles’ head and saw the Pucelle standing in the place of honour?
He took his last leave of Jeanne at Soissons, but not before he had enjoyed the pleasure of seeing the fresh discomfiture which there awaited her. It was discomfiture rendered more bitter by treachery, for the captain of the town, a Picard named Guiscard Bourne!, who was by way of holding Soissons for the King, refused to allow Jeanne and her followers to enter, and persuaded the citizens that they had arrived with the unavowed intention of remaining there as a garrison.fn29 This meant that all hope of coming upon the Burgundians from the rear was destroyed, and that Jeanne had no choice but to return to Compiègne. Is it pushing a theory too far to suggest that in the days of her triumphs she would have found some means of getting her way with the people of Soissons, either by force or persuasion, as she had done with the people of Troyes? She made no attempt whatsoever to do so, and Bournel a few weeks later quietly sold the town in return for 4,000 saluts d’ or advanced by the Duke of Burgundy.
The blow was more serious than might at first sight appear, for it involved more than the refusal of a safe passage across the Aisnc. It meant that the army which Jeanne had got together was compelled to split up, since Compiègne could not mahitain so large a company as well as its own considerable garrison, nor could the countryside support them. The various captains accordingly went off in different directions, Jeanne being apparently left alone with Baretta and a handful of men, probably not more than two or three hundred at the outside.fn30 We do not know how long they had stayed at Soissons, but at midnight on May 22nd–23rd we find them at Crépy-en-Valois about to ride in the secrecy of the dark through the thick forest towards Compiègne. The immediate reason for this nocturnal departure was the news that the Duke of Burgundy and the Earl of Arundel had arrived before Compiègne on the further side of the river, and that Jeanne had instantly decided to go and survey the situation for hcrself. Her own people tried to dissuade her, on account of their small number, from so daring an enterprise (elle avoit pou gens pour passer parmi l’ost des Bourguignons et Englois), but she answered with all her old headstrong spirit: ‘Par mon martin, nous suymes assez; je iray voir mes hons amis de Compiègne.’fn31
She reached Compiègne at dawn. They must have ridden fast, for, although the distance between Crépy and Compiègne is only some fifteen miles, they had no starlight to guide them beneath the trees, the moon was a slip only one day old, and, moreover, the hours between midnight and dawn are few towards the end of May. They entered the town without having encountered any resistance. Beyond this, we are not told how they passed the day until five o’clock in the evening, when the narrative resumes. It is suggested, with much probability, that they rested after their long ride, and that Jeanne heard Mass, and consulted with the governor of the town.fn32 There is no actual authority for this supposition, but common sense dictates it. In the first place, they would naturally be tired after riding through the: night, constantly on the alert, whether for rabbit-holes or Burgundians; in the second place, it was Jeanne’s habit to hear Mass whenever she conveniently or inconveniently could, especially on feast-days – and this was the eve of Ascension; in the third place, her practical side would certainly have driven her, after her religious side had been satisfied, to summon the governor, de Flavy, and to demand from him an exposition of the tactical situation. Had she not done both these things, she would not have been acting according to the character we recognise in its entirety as Jeanne d’Arc. But, as she always acted true to her own character, whatever facet it chose at any given moment to display, save possibly over the unfortunate incident of Franquet d’Arras, we may suppose with Mr Lang that first she made up for her sleepless night, then went to church, then went practically into the ci:uestion of where the enemy was encamped. Unless, indeed, we ought to alter the order of the routine laid down for her by Mr Lang, and suppose that she heard Mass before allowing herself any rest, which seems even more in keeping with her previous record.
Assuming that she did consult with the young, violent, and formidable de Flavy, and that he was in the mood to give her the information she needed, he must have told her that the bridge-head at Margny (here again the map facing here will make the situation clear) was held by the advanceguard of the Anglo-Burgundian army under the command of Baudot de Noyelle. This meant that the enemy had pushed very far forward against his objective – Compiègne. De Flavy must also have told her that the main force with the Duke of Burgundy lay at Coudun, in the valley of the Aronde. He must also have told her that Venette, five miles down the river, was held by the English, and Clairoix, five miles up it, by Jean de Luxembourg, comte de Ligny, though, of course, she cannot have been aware that Jean de Luxembourg, with the seigneur de Crèqui and eight or ten other gentlemen, had already ridden down to Margny (tous venus à cheval) to decide by what means they could best besiege Compiègne, the rising ground behind Margny offering a specially good post of vantage for such observation. (Et regardoit par quelle manière on pourroit assieger ycelle ville.fn33) Nor were the men at Margny aware that a French force, however small, had issued from Compiègne and was advancing across the bridge towards them. So little were they aware of this fact, that most of them had put their arms aside, and were obliged to scurry when the order came for the escarmouche. It is ironical enough that Jeanne should have been taken in such a silly sally, when a small outpost of the enemy was not even prepared for her coming, and a dozen gentlemen-at-arms were riding about in what sounds a very leisurely way, taking a look at Compiègne from the safe side of the river. It was the very presence of these dozen gentlemen which brought about her undoing. For the rest, her enterprise was such as she had often engaged in: a surprise attack on a small and unsuspecting garrison, with an open bridge and a friendly town behind her, was child’s playforthevictor of Orleans and Patay. It seemed as though she could charge the outpost, gallop into the village, amd withdraw across the bridge ifshe then wanted to, with practically no danger either to herself or to her men. Lest she should be pursued on her return journey, de Flavy had set archers and men with cross-bows and culverins at the gate of Compiègne, and more archers and cross-bow men in little boats bobbing on the river.fn34 The first part of the scheme went according to plan: the defenders, taken by surprise, were driven back, with Jeanne and her small company in pursuit. But unfortunately she had been seen from the heights above by Luxembourg
and de Créqui, who sent back a message to their people at Clairoix before coming down to join in the fray themselves. Créqui was severely wounded in the face, and for a time it seemed as though Jeanne would, as so often before, carry off the victory. Three times she attacked, but meanwhile reinforcements were arriving post-haste from Clairoix. It was now the tum of the French to be surprised, and Jeanne’s people, finding themselves outnumbered, came to her in great distress, begging her to retire into Compiègne, or she and they would alike be lost.
It was the kind of appeal to which she had always responded with a salutary scorn. She received it with anger now. ‘Taisez-vous,’ she said to them; ‘their discomfiture depends only on you. Think only of falling upon them.’fn35 The answer was worthy of her, but either something of the old authority had gone out of her voice, or else the situation was really beyond redemption: she could not rally them, even if she managed to obtain a hearing at all. They were already in flight; they were taking to the boats, they were pouring back across the bridge into the town. Jeanne went after the fugitives, fighting desperately to defend their rear, as even a Burgundian chronicler testifies:fn36 her last moments under arms were worthy of her gallantry. Her men were reaching the town; had reached it; had streamed into safety through the gates. At this point de Flavy, seeing that they were closely pursued by the enemy, and fearing that they might be followed and the battle carried within the walls, gave the fatal order to raise the drawbridge and close the gates.fn37 Jeanne was cut off She was almost alone. D’Aulon, his brother Poton, her own brother Pierre, and a few others were still with her. Englishmen and Burgundians surged round her. Still fighting, she gained the meadows. Hands were laid on her horse, and on her person; everyone was striving to take her; everyone was calling out ‘Yield to me!’fn38 Atlast an archer belonging to the Bastard of Wendonne pulled her off her horse. The Pucelle of Orleans was a prisoner.fn39
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