Demands so exorbitant the Duke of Burgundy did not dare to accept, and

as a last resource he and the Dauphin agreed to be reconciled and to

unite in defence of their country against the enemy. They held a

personal interview, embraced each other, and signed a treaty by which

they promised each to love the other as a brother, and to offer a joint

resistance to the invaders. A further meeting was arranged to take place

about seven weeks later to complete matters and to consider their future

policy. France was delighted at the prospect of internal harmony and the

hope of deliverance from her enemies. But at the second interview an

event occurred which marred all her prospects once more. The meeting had

been appointed to take place at Montereau, where the river Yonne falls

into the Seine.

The Duke, remembering doubtless how he had perfidiously murdered the

Duke of Orleans, allowed the day originally appointed to pass by, and

came to the place at last after considerable misgivings, which appear to

have been overcome by the exhortations of treacherous friends.

When he arrived he found a place railed in with barriers for the

meeting. He nevertheless advanced, accompanied by ten attendants, and,

being told that the Dauphin waited for him, he came within the barriers,

which were immediately closed behind him. The Dauphin was accompanied by

one or two gentlemen, among whom was his devoted servant, Tannegui du

Châtel, who had saved him from the Parisian massacre. This Tannegui had

been formerly a servant of Louis, Duke of Orleans, whose murder he had

been eagerly seeking an opportunity to revenge; and as the Duke of

Burgundy knelt before the Dauphin, he struck him a violent blow on the

head with a battle-axe. The attack was immediately followed up by two or

three others, who, before the Duke was able to draw his sword, had

closed in around him and despatched him with a multitude of wounds.

The effect of this crime was what might have been anticipated. Nothing

could have been more favorable to the aggressive designs of Henry, or

more ruinous to the party of the Dauphin, with whose complicity it had

been too evidently committed. Philip, the son and heir of the murdered

Duke of Burgundy, at once sought means to revenge his father's death.

The people of Paris became more than ever enraged against the Armagnacs,

and entered into negotiations with the King of England. The new Duke

Philip and Queen Isabel did the same, the latter being no less eager

than the former for the punishment of her own son. Within less than

three months they made up their minds to waive every scruple as to the

acceptance of Henry's most exorbitant demands. He was to have the

princess Catharine in marriage, and, the Dauphin being disinherited, to

succeed to the crown of France on her father's death. He was also to be

regent during King Charles' life; and all who held honors or offices of

any kind in France were at once to swear allegiance to him as their

future sovereign. Henry, for his part, was to use his utmost power to

reduce to obedience those towns and places within the realm which

adhered to the Dauphin or the Armagnacs.

A treaty on this basis was at length concluded at Troyes in Champagne on

May 21, 1420, and on Trinity Sunday, June 2d, Henry was married to the

princess Catharine. Shortly afterward the treaty was formally registered

by the states of the realm at Paris, when the Dauphin was condemned and

attainted as guilty of the murder of the Duke of Burgundy and declared

incapable of succeeding to the crown. But the state of affairs left

Henry no time for honeymoon festivities. On the Tuesday after his

wedding he again put himself at the head of his army, and marched with

Philip of Burgundy to lay siege to Sens, which in a few days

capitulated. Montereau and Melun were next besieged in succession, and

each, after some resistance, was compelled to surrender. The latter

siege lasted nearly four months, and during its continuance Henry fought

a single combat with the governor in the mines, each combatant having

his vizor down and being unknown to the other. The governor's name was

Barbason, and he was one of those accused of complicity in the murder of

the Duke of Orleans; but in consequence of this incident, Henry saved

him from the capital punishment which he would otherwise have incurred

on his capture.

Toward the end of the year Henry entered Paris in triumph with the

French King and the Duke of Burgundy. He there kept Christmas, and

shortly afterward moved with his Queen into Normandy on his return into

England. He held a parliament at Rouen to confirm his authority in the

duchy, after which he passed through Picardy and Calais, and, crossing

the sea, came by Dover and Canterbury to London. By his own subjects,

and especially in the capital, he and his bride were received with

profuse demonstrations of joy. The Queen was crowned at Westminster with

great magnificence, and afterward Henry went a progress with her through

the country, making pilgrimages to several of the more famous shrines in

England.

But while he was thus employed, a great calamity befell the English

power in France, which, when the news arrived in England, made it

apparent that the King's presence was again much needed across the

Channel. His brother, the Duke of Clarence, whom he had left as his

lieutenant, was defeated and slain at Beaugé in Anjou by an army of

French and Scots, a number of English noblemen being also slain or taken

prisoners. This was the first important advantage the Dauphin had

gained, and the credit of the victory was mainly due to his Scotch

allies. For the Duke of Albany, who was regent of Scotland, though it is

commonly supposed that he was unwilling to give needless offence to

England lest Henry should terminate his power by setting the Scotch King

at liberty, had been compelled by the general sympathy of the Scots with

France to send a force under his son the Earl of Buchan to serve against

the English. The service which they did in that battle was so great that

the Earl of Buchan was created, by the Dauphin, constable of France.

Again Henry crossed the sea with a new army, having borrowed large sums

for the expenses of the expedition. Before he left England he made a

private treaty with his prisoner King James of Scotland, promising to

let him return to his country after the campaign in France on certain

specified conditions, among which it was agreed that he should take the

command of a body of troops in aid of the English. James had accompanied

him in his last campaign, and Henry had endeavored to make use of his

authority to forbid the Scots in France from taking part in the war, but

they had refused to acknowledge themselves bound to a king who was a

captive.

By this agreement, however, Henry obtained real assistance and

coöperation from his prisoner, whom he employed, in concert with the

Duke of Gloucester, in the siege of Dreux, which very soon surrendered.

He himself meanwhile marched toward the Loire to meet the Dauphin, and

took Beaugency; then, returning northward, first reduced Villeneuve on

the Yonne, and afterward laid siege to Meaux on the Marne. The latter

place held out for seven months, and while Henry lay before it he

received intelligence that his Queen had borne him a son at Windsor, who

was christened Henry.

The city of Meaux surrendered on May 10, 1422. The Governor, a man who

had been guilty of great cruelties, was beheaded, and his head and body

were suspended from a tree on which he himself had caused a number of

people to be hanged as adherents of the Duke of Burgundy. Henry was now

master of the greater part of the North of France, and his Queen came

over from England to join him, with reënforcements under his brother the

Duke of Bedford. But he was not permitted to rest; for the Dauphin,

having taken from his ally the Duke of Burgundy the town of La Charté on

the Loire, proceeded to lay siege to Côsne, and, Philip having applied

to Henry for assistance, he sent forward the Duke of Bedford with his

army, intending shortly to follow himself. This demonstration was

sufficient. The Dauphin felt that he was too weak to contend with the

united English and Burgundian forces, and he withdrew from the siege.

Henry, however, was disabled from joining the army by a severe attack of

dysentery; and though he had at first hoped that he might be carried in

a litter to head-quarters, he soon found that his illness was far too

serious to permit him to carry out his intention. He was accordingly

conveyed back to Vincennes, near Paris, where he grew so rapidly worse

that it was evident his end was near. In a few brief words to those

about him he declared his will touching the government of England and

France after his death, until his infant son should be of age. The

regency of France he committed to the Duke of Bedford, in case it

should be declined by the Duke of Burgundy. That of England he gave to

his other brother, Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester. To his two uncles,

Henry Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester, and Thomas Beaufort, Duke of

Exeter, he intrusted the guardianship of his child. He besought all

parties to maintain the alliance with Burgundy, and never to release the

Duke of Orleans and the other prisoners of Agincourt during his son's

minority. Having given these instructions he expired, on the last day of

August, 1422.

His death was bewailed both in England and France with no ordinary

regret. The great achievements of his reign made him naturally a popular

hero; nor was the regard felt for his memory diminished when, under the

feeble reign of his son, all that he had gained was irrecoverably lost

again, so that nothing remained of all his conquests except the story of

how they had been won. Those past glories, indeed, must have seemed all

the brighter when contrasted with a present which knew but disaster

abroad and civil dissension at home. The early death of Henry also

contributed to the popular estimate of his greatness. It was seen that

in a very few years he had subdued a large part of the territory of

France. It was not seen that in the nature of things this advantage

could not be maintained, and that even the greatest military talents

would not have succeeded in preserving the English conquests.

Nor can it be said that Henry's success, extraordinary as it was, was

altogether owing to his own abilities. That he exhibited great qualities

as a general cannot be denied; but these would have availed him little

if the rival factions in France had not been far more bitterly opposed

to each other than to him. Indeed, it is difficult after all to justify,

even as a matter of policy, his interference in French affairs, except

as a means of diverting public attention from the fact that he inherited

from his father but an indifferent title even to the throne of England.

And though success attended his efforts beyond all expectation, he most

wilfully endangered the safety not only of himself, but of his gallant

army, when he determined to march with reduced forces through the

enemy's country from Harfleur to Calais. It was a rashness nothing less

than culpable, but in his own interests rashness was good policy.

Unless he could succeed in desperate enterprises against tremendous

odds and so make himself a military hero and a favorite of the

multitude, his throne was insecure. He succeeded; but it was only by

staking everything upon the venture--his own safety and that of his

army, which, if the French had exercised but a little more discretion,

would inevitably have been cut to pieces or made prisoners to a man.

JEANNE D'ARC'S VICTORY AT ORLEANS

A.D. 1429

Sir Edward Shepherd Creasy

In the Hundred Years' War between England and France, a

critical period was reached when Henry V, in 1415, won the

battle of Agincourt, and five years later, by the treaty of

Troyes, secured the succession to the French throne on the

death of Charles VI. Both monarchs dying in 1422, Charles

VII was proclaimed King of France, and Henry's son--Henry

VI--succeeded to his father's throne.

France now realized that her condition was wellnigh

hopeless, for the greater part of her territory was in the

hands of her enemies. When the English began the siege of

Orleans the extinction of French independence seemed to be

inevitable. The chivalry of France had been wasted in

terrible wars, and the spirits of her soldiers were daunted

by repeated disaster. The English king had been proclaimed

in Paris, and the "native prince was a dissolute trifler,

stained with the assassination of the most powerful noble of

the land."[77] Anarchy and brigandage everywhere prevailed,

and the condition of the peasantry was too wretched to be

described.

"Such," says Lamartine, "was the state of the nation when

Providence showed it a savior in a child." This child was

Jeanne d'Arc, called _La Pucelle_ ("the Maid"--more fully,

"the Maid of Orleans"), whose character and services to her

country made her, perhaps, the most illustrious heroine of

history. She was born at Domremy, in the northeast part of

France, January 6, 1412. All that is essential concerning

her personality and life prior to the great achievement

recorded here will be found in Creasy's own introduction to

his spirited account of the victory at Orleans.

Orleans was looked upon as the last stronghold of the French national

party. If the English could once obtain possession of it, their

victorious progress through the residue of the kingdom seemed free from

any serious obstacle. Accordingly, the Earl of Salisbury, one of the

bravest and most experienced of the English generals, who had been

trained under Henry V, marched to the attack of the all-important city;

and, after reducing several places of inferior consequence in the

neighborhood, appeared with his army before its walls on the 12th of

October, 1428.

The city of Orleans itself was on the north side of the Loire, but its

suburbs extended far on the southern side, and a strong bridge connected

them with the town. A fortification, which in modern military phrase

would be termed a _tête-du-pont_, defended the bridge head on the

southern side, and two towers, called the _Tourelles_, were built on the

bridge itself, at a little distance from the tête-du-pont. Indeed, the

solid masonry of the bridge terminated at the Tourelles; and the

communication thence with the tête-du-pont and the southern shore was by

means of a drawbridge. The Tourelles and the tête-du-pont formed

together a strong-fortified post, capable of containing a garrison of

considerable strength; and so long as this was in possession of the

Orleannais, they could communicate freely with the southern provinces,

the inhabitants of which, like the Orleannais themselves, supported the

cause of their dauphin against the foreigners.

Lord Salisbury rightly judged the capture of the Tourelles to be the

most material step toward the reduction of the city itself. Accordingly,

he directed his principal operations against this post, and after some

severe repulses he carried the Tourelles by storm on the 23d of October.

The French, however, broke down the arches of the bridge that were

nearest to the north bank, and thus rendered a direct assault from the

Tourelles upon the city impossible. But the possession of this post

enabled the English to distress the town greatly by a battery of cannon

which they planted there, and which commanded some of the principal

streets.

It has been observed by Hume that this is the first siege in which any

important use appears to have been made of artillery. And even at

Orleans both besiegers and besieged seem to have employed their cannons

merely as instruments of destruction against their enemy's _men_, and

not to have trusted to them as engines of demolition against their

enemy's walls and works. The efficacy of cannon in breaching solid

masonry was taught Europe by the Turks a few years afterward, at the

memorable siege of Constantinople.

In our French wars, as in the wars of the classic nations, famine was

looked on as the surest weapon to compel the submission of a well-walled

town; and the great object of the besiegers was to effect a complete

circumvallation. The great ambit of the walls of Orleans, and the

facilities which the river gave for obtaining succors and supplies,

rendered the capture of the town by this process a matter of great

difficulty. Nevertheless, Lord Salisbury, and Lord Suffolk, who

succeeded him in command of the English after his death by a

cannon-ball, carried on the necessary works with great skill and

resolution. Six strongly-fortified posts, called _bastilles_, were

formed at certain intervals round the town, and the purpose of the

English engineers was to draw strong lines between them. During the

winter, little progress was made with the intrenchments, but when the

spring of 1429 came, the English resumed their work with activity; the

communications between the city and the country became more difficult,

and the approach of want began already to be felt in Orleans.

The besieging force also fared hardly for stores and provisions, until

relieved by the effects of a brilliant victory which Sir John Fastolf,

one of the best English generals, gained at Rouvrai, near Orleans, a few

days after Ash Wednesday, 1429. With only sixteen hundred fighting men,

Sir John completely defeated an army of French and Scots, four thousand

strong, which had been collected for the purpose of aiding the

Orleannais and harassing the besiegers. After this encounter, which

seemed decisively to confirm the superiority of the English in battle

over their adversaries, Fastolf escorted large supplies of stores and

food to Suffolk's camp, and the spirits of the English rose to the

highest pitch at the prospect of the speedy capture of the city before

them, and the consequent subjection of all France beneath their arms.

The Orleannais now, in their distress, offered to surrender the city

into the hands of the Duke of Burgundy, who, though the ally of the

English, was yet one of their native princes. The regent Bedford refused

these terms, and the speedy submission of the city to the English seemed

inevitable. The dauphin Charles, who was now at Chinon with his remnant

of a court, despaired of continuing any longer the struggle for his

crown, and was only prevented from abandoning the country by the more

masculine spirits of his mistress and his Queen. Yet neither they nor

the boldest of Charles' captains could have shown him where to find

resources for prolonging war; and least of all could any human skill

have predicted the quarter whence rescue was to come to Orleans and to

France.

In the village of Domremy, on the borders of Lorraine, there was a poor

peasant of the name of Jacques d'Arc, respected in his station of life,

and who had reared a family in virtuous habits and in the practice of

the strictest devotion. His eldest daughter was named by her parents

Jeannette, but she was called Jeanne by the French, which was Latinized

into Johanna, and Anglicized into Joan.

At the time when Jeanne first attracted attention, she was about

eighteen years of age. She was naturally of a susceptible disposition,

which diligent attention to the legends of saints and tales of fairies,

aided by the dreamy loneliness of her life while tending her father's

flocks, had made peculiarly prone to enthusiastic fervor. At the same

time, she was eminent for piety and purity of soul, and for her

compassionate gentleness to the sick and the distressed.

The district where she dwelt had escaped comparatively free from the

ravages of war, but the approach of roving bands of Burgundian or

English troops frequently spread terror through Domremy. Once the

village had been plundered by some of these marauders, and Jeanne and

her family had been driven from their home, and forced to seek refuge

for a time at Neufchâteau. The peasantry in Domremy were principally

attached to the house of Orleans and the Dauphin, and all the miseries

which France endured were there imputed to the Burgundian faction and

their allies, the English, who were seeking to enslave unhappy France.

Thus, from infancy to girlhood, Jeanne had heard continually of the woes

of the war, and had herself witnessed some of the wretchedness that it

caused. A feeling of intense patriotism grew in her with her growth. The

deliverance of France from the English was the subject of her reveries

by day and her dreams by night. Blended with these aspirations were

recollections of the miraculous interpositions of heaven in favor of

the oppressed, which she had learned from the legends of her Church.

Her faith was undoubting; her prayers were fervent. "She feared no

danger, for she felt no sin," and at length she believed herself to have

received the supernatural inspiration which she sought.

According to her own narrative, delivered by her to her merciless

inquisitors in the time of her captivity and approaching death, she was

about thirteen years old when her revelations commenced. Her own words

describe them best. "At the age of thirteen, a voice from God came to

her to help her in ruling herself, and that voice came to her about the

hour of noon, in summer-time, while she was in her father's garden. And

she had fasted the day before. And she heard the voice on her right, in

the direction of the church; and when she heard the voice, she saw also

a bright light."

Afterward St. Michael and St. Margaret and St. Catharine appeared to

her. They were always in a halo of glory; she could see that their heads

were crowned with jewels; and she heard their voices, which were sweet

and mild. She did not distinguish their arms or limbs. She heard them

more frequently than she saw them; and the usual time when she heard

them was when the church bells were sounding for prayer. And if she was

in the woods when she heard them, she could plainly distinguish their

voices drawing near to her. When she thought that she discerned the

heavenly voices, she knelt down, and bowed herself to the ground. Their

presence gladdened her even to tears, and after they departed she wept

because they had not taken her with them back to paradise. They always

spoke soothingly to her. They told her that France would be saved, and

that she was to save it.

Such were the visions and the voices that moved the spirit of the girl

of thirteen; and as she grew older, they became more frequent and more

clear. At last the tidings of the siege of Orleans reached Domremy.

Jeanne heard her parents and neighbors talk of the sufferings of its

population, of the ruin which its capture would bring on their lawful

sovereign, and of the distress of the Dauphin and his court. Jeanne's

heart was sorely troubled at the thought of the fate of Orleans; and her

"voices" now ordered her to leave her home, and warned her that she was

the instrument chosen by heaven for driving away the English from that

city, and for taking the Dauphin to be anointed king at Rheims. At

length she informed her parents of her divine mission, and told them

that she must go to the Sire de Baudricourt, who commanded at

Vaucouleurs, and who was the appointed person to bring her into the

presence of the King, whom she was to save.

Neither the anger nor the grief of her parents, who said that they would

rather see her drowned than exposed to the contamination of the camp,

could move her from her purpose. One of her uncles consented to take her

to Vaucouleurs, where De Baudricourt at first thought her mad, and

derided her, but by degrees was led to believe, if not in her

inspiration, at least in her enthusiasm, and in its possible utility to

the Dauphin's cause.

The inhabitants of Vaucouleurs were completely won over to her side by

the piety and devoutness which she displayed, and by her firm assurance

in the truth of her mission. She told them that it was God's will that

she should go to the King, and that no one but her could save the

kingdom of France. She said that she herself would rather remain with

her poor mother and spin; but the Lord had ordered her forth.

The Great Events by Famous Historians, Volume 07 · 第 31 / 38 段