On that day there entered into the city the little garrisons of Gien, of Château-Regnard, and of Montargis. But the Blois army did not come. On the morrow, at daybreak, it was descried in the plain of La Beauce. And, indeed, the Sire de Rais and his company, escorted by the Marshal de Boussac and my Lord the Bastard, were skirting the Forest of Orléans. At these tidings the citizens must needs exclaim that the Maid had been right in wishing to march straight against Talbot since the captains now followed the very road she had indicated. But in reality it was not just as they thought. Only one part of the Blois army had risked forcing its way between the western bastions; the convoy, with its escort, like the first convoy, was coming through La Sologne and was to enter the town by water. Those arrangements for the entrance of supplies, which, in the first instance, had proved successful, were naturally now repeated.
Captain La Hire and certain other commanders, who had remained in the city with five hundred fighting men, went out to meet the Sire de Rais, the Marshal de Boussac and the Bastard. The Maid mounted her horse and went with them. They passed through the English lines; and, a little further on, having met the army, they returned to the town together. The priests, and among them Brother Pasquerel bearing the banner, were the first to pass beneath the Paris bastion, singing psalms.
Jeanne dined at Jacques Boucher’s house with her steward, Jean d’Aulon. When the table was cleared, the Bastard, who had come to the treasurer’s house, talked with her for a moment. He was gracious and polite, but spoke with restraint.
“I have heard on good authority,” he remarked, “that Fastolf is soon to join the English who are conducting the siege. He brings them supplies and reinforcements and is already at Janville.”
At these tidings Jeanne appeared very glad and said, laughing: “Bastard, Bastard, in God’s name, I command thee to let me know as soon as thou shalt hear of Fastolf’s arrival. For should he come without my knowledge, I warn thee thou shalt lose thy head.”
Far from betraying any annoyance at so rude a jest, he replied that she need have no fear, he would let her know.
The approach of Sir John Fastolf had already been announced on the 26th of April. It was expressly in order to avoid him that the army had come through La Sologne. It is possible that on the 4th of May the tidings of his coming had no surer foundation. But the Bastard knew something else. The corn of the second convoy, like that of the first, was coming down the river. It had been resolved, in a council of war, that in the afternoon the captains should attack the Saint-Loup bastion, and divert the English as had been done on the 29th of April. The attack had already begun. But of this the Bastard breathed not a word to the Maid. He held her to be the one source of strength in the town. But he believed that in war her part was purely spiritual.
After he had withdrawn, Jeanne, worn out by her morning’s expedition, lay down on her bed with her hostess for a short sleep. Sire Jean d’Aulon, who was very weary, stretched himself on a couch in the same room, thinking to take the rest he so greatly needed. But scarce had he fallen asleep when the Maid leapt from her bed and roused him with a great noise. He asked her what she wanted.
“In God’s name,” she answered in great agitation, “my Council have told me to go against the English; but I know not whether I am to go against their bastions or against Fastolf, who is bringing them supplies.”
In her dreams she had been present at her Council, that is to say, she had beheld her saints. She had seen Saint Catherine and Saint Margaret. There had happened to her what always happens. The saints had told her no more than she herself knew. They had revealed to her nothing of what she needed to know. They had not informed her how, at that very moment, the French were attacking the Saint-Loup bastion and suffering great hurt. And the Blessed Ones had departed leaving her in error and in ignorance of what was going on, and in uncertainty as to what she was to do. The good Sire d’Aulon was not the one to relieve her from her embarrassment. He, too, was excluded from the Councils of War. Now he answered her nothing, and set to arming himself as quickly as possible. He had already begun when they heard a great noise and cries coming up from the street. From the passers-by, they gleaned that there was fighting near Saint-Loup and that the enemy was inflicting great hurt on the French. Without staying to inquire further, Jean d’Aulon went straightway to his squire to have his armour put on. Almost at the same time Jeanne went down and asked: “Where are my armourers? The blood of our folk is flowing.”
In the street she found Brother Pasquerel, her chaplain, with other priests, and Mugot, her page, to whom she cried: “Ha! cruel boy, you did not tell me that the blood of France was being shed!... In God’s name, our people are hard put to it.”
She bade him bring her horse and leave the wife and daughter of her host to finish arming her. On his return the page found her fully accoutred. She sent him to fetch her standard from her room. He gave it her through the window. She took it and spurred on her horse into the high street, towards the Burgundian Gate, at such a pace that sparks flashed from the pavement.
“Hasten after her!” cried the treasurer’s wife.
Sire d’Aulon had not seen her start. He imagined, why, it is impossible to say, that she had gone out on foot, and, having met a page on horseback in the street, had made him dismount and give her his horse. The Renard Gate and the Burgundian Gate were on opposite sides of the town. Jeanne, who for the last three days had been going up and down the streets of Orléans, took the most direct way. Jean d’Aulon and the page, who were hastily pursuing her, did not come up with her until she had reached the gate. There they met a wounded man being brought into the town. The Maid asked his bearers who the man was. He was a Frenchman, they replied. Then she said: “I have never seen the blood of a Frenchman flow without feeling my heart stand still.”
The Maid and Sire d’Aulon, with a few fighting men of their company, pressed on through the fields to Saint-Loup. On the way they saw certain of their party. The good squire, unaccustomed to great battles, never remembered having seen so many fighting men at once.
For an hour the Sire de Rais’ Bretons and the men from Le Mans had been skirmishing before the bastion. As the custom was those who had arrived last were keeping watch. But if these combatants, who had reached the town only that very morning, had attacked without taking time to breathe, they must have been hard pressed. They were doing what had been done on the 29th of April, and for the same reason: namely, occupying the English while the barges corn-laden were coming down the river to the moat. On the top of their high hill, in their strong fortress, the English had easily held out albeit they were but few; and the French King’s men can hardly have been able to make head against them, since the Maid and Sire d’Aulon found them scattered through the fields. She gathered them together and led them back to the attack. They were her friends: they had journeyed together: they had sung psalms and hymns together: together they had heard mass in the fields. They knew that she brought good luck: they followed her. As she marched at their head her first idea was a religious one. The bastion was built upon the church and convent of the Ladies of Saint-Loup. With the sound of a trumpet she had it proclaimed that nothing should be taken from the church. She remembered how Salisbury had come to a bad end for having pillaged the Church of Notre Dame de Cléry; and she desired to keep her men from an evil death. This was the first time she had seen fighting; and no sooner had she entered into the battle than she became the leader because she was the best. She did better than others, not because she knew more; she knew less. But her heart was nobler. When every man thought of himself, she alone thought of others: when every man took heed to defend himself, she defended herself not at all, having previously offered up her life. And thus this child, — who feared suffering and death like every human being, who knew by her Voices and her presentiments that she would be wounded, — went straight on and stood beneath showers of arrows and cannon-balls on the edge of the moat, her standard in hand, rallying her men. Through her what had bee
n merely a diversion became a serious attack. The bastion was stormed.
When he heard that the fort of Saint-Loup was being attacked, Sir John Talbot sallied forth from the camp of Saint-Laurent-des-Orgerils. In order to reach the threatened bastion he had some distance to go down his lines and along the border of the forest. He set out, and on his way was reinforced by the garrisons of the western bastions. The town watchmen observed his movements and sounded the alarm. Marshal Boussac passing through the Parisis Gate, went out to meet Talbot on the north, towards Fleury. The English captain was preparing to break through the French force when he saw a thick cloud of smoke rising over the fort Saint-Loup. He understood that the French had captured and set fire to it; and sadly he returned to the camp of Saint-Laurent-des-Orgerils.
The attack had lasted three hours. After the burning of the bastion the English climbed into the church belfry. The French had difficulty in dislodging them; but they ran no danger thereby. Of prisoners, they took two score, and the rest they slew. The Maid was very sorrowful when she saw so many of the enemy dead. She pitied these poor folk who had died unconfessed. Certain Godons, wearing the ecclesiastical habit and ornaments, came to meet her. She perceived that they were soldiers disguised in stoles and hoods taken from the sacristy of the Abbaye aux Dames. But she pretended to take them for what they represented themselves to be. She received them and had them conducted to her house without allowing any harm to come to them. With a charitable jest she said: “One should never question priests.”
Before leaving the fort she confessed to Brother Pasquerel, her chaplain. And she charged him to make the following announcement to all the men-at-arms: “Confess your sins and thank God for the victory. If you do not, the Maid will never help you more and will not remain in your company.”
The Saint-Loup bastion, attacked by fifteen hundred French, had been defended by only three hundred English. That they made no vigorous defence is indicated by the fact that only two or three Frenchmen were slain. It was not by any severe mental effort or profound calculation that the French King’s men had gained this advantage. It had cost them little, and yet it was immense. It meant the cutting off of the besiegers’ communications with Jargeau: it meant the opening of the upper Loire: it was the first step towards the raising of the siege. Better still, it afforded positive proof that these devils who had inspired such fear were miserable creatures, who might be entrapped like mice and smoked out like wasps in their nest. Such unhoped-for good fortune was due to the Maid. She had done everything, for without her nothing would have been done. She it was, who, in ignorance wiser than the knowledge of captains and free-lances, had converted an idle skirmish into a serious attack and had won the victory by inspiring confidence.
That very evening the magistrates sent workmen to Saint-Loup to demolish the captured fortifications.
When at night she returned to her lodging, Jeanne told her chaplain that on the morrow, which was the day of the Ascension of Our Lord, she would keep the Festival by not wearing armour and by abstaining from fighting. She commanded that no one should think of quitting the town, of attacking or making an assault, until he had first confessed. She added that the men-at-arms must pay heed that no dissolute women followed in their train for fear lest God should cause them to be defeated on account of their sins.
When need was the Maid herself saw that her orders concerning bad women and blasphemers were scrupulously obeyed. More than once she drove away the camp-followers. She rebuked men-at-arms who swore and blasphemed. One day, in the open street, a knight began to swear and take God’s name in vain. Jeanne heard him. She seized him by the throat, exclaiming, “Ah, Sir! dare you take in vain the name of Our Lord and Master? In God’s name you shall take back those words before I move from this place.”
A citizen’s wife, passing down the street at that moment, beheld this man, who seemed to her to be a great baron, humbly receiving the Saint’s reproaches and testifying his repentance.
On the morrow, which was Ascension Day, the captains held a council-of-war in the house of Chancellor Cousinot in the Rue de la Rose. There were present, as well as the Chancellor, my Lord the Bastard, the Sire de Gaucourt, the Sire de Rais, the Sire de Graville, Captain La Hire, my Lord Ambroise de Loré and several others. It was decided that Les Tourelles, the chief stronghold of the besiegers, should be attacked on the morrow. Meanwhile, it would be necessary to hold in check the English of the camp of Saint-Laurent-des-Orgerils. On the previous day, when Talbot set out from Saint-Laurent, he had not been able to reach Saint-Loup in time because he had been obliged to make a long circuit, going round the town from west to east. But, although, on that previous day, the enemy had lost command of the Loire above the town, they still held the lower river. They could cross it between Saint-Laurent and Saint-Privé as rapidly as the French could cross it by the Île-aux-Toiles; and thus the English might gather in force at Le Portereau. This, the French must prevent and, if possible, draw off the garrisons from Les Augustins and Les Tourelles to Saint-Laurent-des-Orgerils. With this object it was decided that the people of Orléans with the folk from the communes, that is, from the villages, should make a feigned attack on the Saint-Laurent camp, with mantelets, faggots, and ladders. Meanwhile, the nobles would cross the Loire by l’Île-aux-Toiles, would land at Le Portereau under the watch of Saint-Jean-le-Blanc which had been abandoned by the English, and attack the bastion of Les Augustins; and when that was taken, the fort of Les Tourelles. Thus there would be one assault made by the citizens, another by the nobles; one real, the other feigned; both useful, but only one glorious and worthy of knights. When the plan was thus drawn up, certain captains were of opinion that it would be well to send for the Maid and tell her what had been decided. And, indeed, on the previous day, she had done so well that there was no longer need to hold her aloof. Others deemed that it would be imprudent to tell her what was contemplated concerning Les Tourelles. For it was important that the undertaking should be kept secret, and it was feared that the holy damsel might speak of it to her friends among the common people. Finally, it was agreed that she should know those decisions which affected the train-bands of Orléans, since, indeed, she was their captain, but that such matters as could not be safely communicated to the citizens should be concealed from her.
Jeanne was in another room of the house with the Chancellor’s wife. Messire Ambroise de Loré went to fetch her; and, when she had come, the Chancellor told her that the camp of Saint-Laurent-des-Orgerils was to be attacked on the morrow. She divined that something was being kept back; for she possessed a certain acuteness. Besides, since they had hitherto concealed everything, it was natural she should suspect that something was still being kept from her. This mistrust annoyed her. Did they think her incapable of keeping a secret? She said bitterly: “Tell me what you have concluded and ordained. I could keep a much greater secret than that.”
And refusing to sit down she walked to and fro in the room.
My Lord the Bastard deemed it well to avoid exasperating her by telling her the truth. He pacified her without incriminating anybody: “Jeanne, do not rage. It is impossible to tell you everything at once. What the Chancellor has said has been concluded and ordained. But if those on the other side [of the water, the English of La Sologne] should depart to come and succour the great bastion of Saint-Laurent and the English who are encamped near this part of the city, we have determined that some of us shall cross the river to do what we can against those on the other side [those of Les Augustins and Les Tourelles]. And it seems to us that such a decision is good and profitable.”
The Maid replied that she was content, that such a decision seemed to her good, and that it should be carried out in the manner determined.
It will be seen that by this proceeding the secrecy of the deliberations had been violated, and that the nobles had not been able to do what they had determined or at least not in the way they had determined. On that Ascension Day the Maid for the last time sent a message of peac
e to the English, which she dictated to Brother Pasquerel in the following terms: Ye men of England, who have no right in the realm of France, the King of Heaven enjoins and commands you by me, Jeanne the Maid, to leave your forts and return to your country. If ye will not I will make so great a noise as shall remain for ever in the memory of man: This I write to you for the third and last time, and I will write to you no more.
Signed thus: Jhesus — Maria. Jeanne the Maid.
And below: I should have sent to you with more ceremony. But you keep my heralds. You kept my herald Guyenne. If you will send him back to me, I will send you some of your men taken at the bastion Saint-Loup; they are not all dead.
Jeanne went to La Belle Croix, took an arrow, and tied her letter to it with a string, then told an archer to shoot it to the English, crying: “Read! This is the message.”
The English received the arrow, untied the letter, and having read it they cried: “This a message from the Armagnac strumpet.”
When she heard them, tears came into Jeanne’s eyes and she wept. But soon she beheld her saints, who spoke to her of Our Lord, and she was comforted. “I have had a message from my Lord,” she said joyfully.
My Lord the Bastard himself demanded the Maid’s herald, threatening that if he were not sent back he would keep the heralds whom the English had sent to treat for the exchange of prisoners. It is asserted that he even threatened to put those prisoners to death. But Ambleville did not return.
CHAPTER XIII
THE TAKING OF LES TOURELLES AND THE DELIVERANCE OF ORLÉANS
ON the morrow, Friday the 6th of May, the Maid rose at daybreak. She confessed to her chaplain and heard mass sung before the priests and fighting men of her company. The zealous townsfolk were already up and armed. Whether or no she had told them, the citizens, who were strongly determined to cross the Loire and attack Les Tourelles themselves, were pressing in crowds to the Burgundian Gate. They found it shut. The Sire de Gaucourt was guarding it with men-at-arms. The nobles had taken this precaution in case the citizens should discover their enterprise and wish to take part in it. The gate was closed and well defended. Bent on fighting and themselves recovering their precious jewel, Les Tourelles, the citizens had recourse to her before whom gates opened and walls fell; they sent for the Saint. She came, frank and terrible. She went straight to the old Sire de Gaucourt, and, refusing to listen to him, said: “You are a wicked man to try to prevent these people from going out. But whether you will or no, they will go and will do as well as they did the other day.”
Complete Works of Anatole France Page 433