and of her mission, spread far and wide. Baudricourt sent her with an
escort to Chinon, where the dauphin Charles was dallying away his time.
Her "voices" had bidden her assume the arms and the apparel of a knight;
and the wealthiest inhabitants of Vaucouleurs had vied with each other
in equipping her with war-horse, armor, and sword. On reaching Chinon,
she was, after some delay, admitted into the presence of the Dauphin.
Charles designedly dressed himself far less richly than many of his
courtiers were apparelled, and mingled with them, when Jeanne was
introduced, in order to see if the holy Maid would address her
exhortations to the wrong person. But she instantly singled him out,
and, kneeling before him, said:
"Most noble Dauphin, the King of Heaven announces to you by me that you
shall be anointed and crowned king in the city of Rheims, and that you
shall be his vicegerent in France."
His features may probably have been seen by her previously in
portraits, or have been described to her by others; but she herself
believed that her "voices" inspired her when she addressed the King, and
the report soon spread abroad that the holy Maid had found the King by a
miracle; and this, with many other similar rumors, augmented the renown
and influence that she now rapidly acquired.
The state of public feeling in France was now favorable to an
enthusiastic belief in a divine interposition in favor of the party that
had hitherto been unsuccessful and oppressed. The humiliations which had
befallen the French royal family and nobility were looked on as the just
judgments of God upon them for their vice and impiety. The misfortunes
that had come upon France as a nation were believed to have been drawn
down by national sins. The English, who had been the instruments of
heaven's wrath against France, seemed now, by their pride and cruelty,
to be fitting objects of it themselves.
France in that age was a profoundly religious country. There was
ignorance, there was superstition, there was bigotry; but there was
_faith_--a faith that itself worked true miracles, even while it
believed in unreal ones. At this time, also, one of those devotional
movements began among the clergy in France, which from time to time
occur in national churches, without it being possible for the historian
to assign any adequate human cause for their immediate date or
extension. Numberless friars and priests traversed the rural districts
and towns of France, preaching to the people that they must seek from
heaven a deliverance from the pillages of the soldiery and the insolence
of the foreign oppressors.
The idea of a providence that works only by general laws was wholly
alien to the feelings of the age. Every political event, as well as
every natural phenomenon, was believed to be the immediate result of a
special mandate of God. This led to the belief that his holy angels and
saints were constantly employed in executing his commands and mingling
in the affairs of men. The Church encouraged these feelings, and at the
same time sanctioned the concurrent popular belief that hosts of evil
spirits were also ever actively interposing in the current of earthly
events, with whom sorcerers and wizards could league themselves, and
thereby obtain the exercise of supernatural power.
Thus all things favored the influence which Jeanne obtained both over
friends and foes. The French nation, as well as the English and the
Burgundians, readily admitted that superhuman beings inspired her; the
only question was whether these beings were good or evil angels; whether
she brought with her "airs from heaven or blasts from hell." This
question seemed to her countrymen to be decisively settled in her favor
by the austere sanctity of her life, by the holiness of her
conversation, but still more by her exemplary attention to all the
services and rites of the Church. The Dauphin at first feared the injury
that might be done to his cause if he laid himself open to the charge of
having leagued himself with a sorceress. Every imaginable test,
therefore, was resorted to in order to set Jeanne's orthodoxy and purity
beyond suspicion. At last Charles and his advisers felt safe in
accepting her services as those of a true and virtuous Christian
daughter of the holy Church.
It is, indeed, probable that Charles himself and some of his counsellors
may have suspected Jeanne of being a mere enthusiast, and it is certain
that Dunois and others of the best generals took considerable latitude
in obeying or deviating from the military orders that she gave. But over
the mass of the people and the soldiery her influence was unbounded.
While Charles and his doctors of theology, and court ladies, had been
deliberating as to recognizing or dismissing the Maid, a considerable
period had passed away during which a small army, the last gleanings, as
it seemed, of the English sword, had been assembled at Blois, under
Dunois, La Hire, Xaintrailles, and other chiefs, who to their natural
valor were now beginning to unite the wisdom that is taught by
misfortune. It was resolved to send Jeanne with this force and a convoy
of provisions to Orleans. The distress of that city had now become
urgent. But the communication with the open country was not entirely cut
off: the Orleannais had heard of the holy Maid whom Providence had
raised up for their deliverance, and their messengers earnestly implored
the Dauphin to send her to them without delay.
Jeanne appeared at the camp at Blois, clad in a new suit of brilliant
white armor, mounted on a stately black war-horse, and with a lance in
her right hand, which she had learned to wield with skill and grace. Her
head was unhelmeted, so that all could behold her fair and expressive
features, her deep-set and earnest eyes, and her long black hair, which
was parted across her forehead, and bound by a ribbon behind her back.
She wore at her side a small battle-axe, and the consecrated sword,
marked on the blade with five crosses, which had at her bidding been
taken for her from the shrine of St. Catharine at Fierbois. A page
carried her banner, which she had caused to be made and embroidered as
her voices enjoined. It was white satin, strewn with _fleurs-de-lis_,
and on it were the words
"JHESUS MARIA,"
and the representation of the Saviour in his glory. Jeanne afterward
generally bore her banner herself in battle; she said that though she
loved her sword much, she loved her banner forty times as much; and she
loved to carry it, because it could not kill anyone.
Thus accoutred, she came to lead the troops of France, who looked with
soldierly admiration on her well-proportioned and upright figure, the
skill with which she managed her war-horse, and the easy grace with
which she handled her weapons. Her military education had been short,
but she had availed herself of it well. She had also the good sense to
interfere little with the manoeuvres of the troops, leaving these
things to Dunois and others whom she had the discernment to recognize as
the best officers in the camp.
Her tactics in action were simple enough. As she herself described it,
"I used to say to them, 'Go boldly in among the English,' and then I
used to go boldly in myself." Such, as she told her inquisitors, was the
only spell she used, and it was one of power. But, while interfering
little with the military discipline of the troops, in all matters of
moral discipline she was inflexibly strict. All the abandoned followers
of the camp were driven away. She compelled both generals and soldiers
to attend regularly at confessional. Her chaplain and other priests
marched with the army under her orders; and at every halt, an altar was
set up and the sacrament administered. No oath or foul language passed
without punishment or censure. Even the roughest and most hardened
veterans obeyed her. They had put off for a time the bestial coarseness
which had grown on them during a life of bloodshed and rapine; they
felt that they must go forth in a new spirit to a new career, and
acknowledged the beauty of the holiness in which the heaven-sent Maid
was leading them to certain victory.
Jeanne marched from Blois on the 25th of April with a convoy of
provisions for Orleans, accompanied by Dunois, La Hire, and the other
chief captains of the French, and on the evening of the 28th they
approached the town. In the words of the old chronicler Hall: "The
Englishmen, perceiving that thei within could not long continue for
faute of vitaile and pouder, kepte not their watche so diligently as
thei were accustomed, nor scoured now the countrey environed as thei
before had ordained. Whiche negligence the citizens shut in perceiving,
sent worde thereof to the French captaines, which, with Pucelle, in the
dedde tyme of the nighte, and in a greate rayne and thundere, with all
their vitaile and artillery, entered into the citie."
When it was day, the Maid rode in solemn procession through the city,
clad in complete armor, and mounted on a white horse. Dunois was by her
side, and all the bravest knights of her army and of the garrison
followed in her train. The whole population thronged around her; and
men, women, and children strove to touch her garments or her banner or
her charger. They poured forth blessings on her, whom they already
considered their deliverer. In the words used by two of them afterward
before the tribunal which reversed the sentence, but could not restore
the life of the virgin-martyr of France, "the people of Orleans, when
they first saw her in their city, thought that it was an angel from
heaven that had come down to save them."
Jeanne spoke gently in reply to their acclamations and addresses. She
told them to fear God, and trust in him for safety from the fury of
their enemies. She first went to the principal church, where _Te Deum_
was chanted; and then she took up her abode at the house of Jacques
Bourgier, one of the principal citizens, and whose wife was a matron of
good repute. She refused to attend a splendid banquet which had been
provided for her, and passed nearly all her time in prayer.
When it was known by the English that the Maid was in Orleans, their
minds were not less occupied about her than were the minds of those in
the city; but it was in a very different spirit. The English believed
in her supernatural mission as firmly as the French did, but they
thought her a sorceress who had come to overthrow them by her
enchantments. An old prophecy, which told that a damsel from Lorraine
was to save France, had long been current, and it was known and applied
to Jeanne by foreigners as well as by the natives. For months the
English had heard of the coming Maid, and the tales of miracles which
she was said to have wrought had been listened to by the rough yeomen of
the English camp with anxious curiosity and secret awe. She had sent a
herald to the English generals before she marched for Orleans, and he
had summoned the English generals in the name of the most High to give
up to the Maid, who was sent by heaven, the keys of the French cities
which they had wrongfully taken; and he also solemnly adjured the
English troops, whether archers or men of the companies of war or
gentlemen or others, who were before the city of Orleans, to depart
thence to their homes, under peril of being visited by the judgment of
God.
On her arrival in Orleans, Jeanne sent another similar message; but the
English scoffed at her from their towers, and threatened to burn her
heralds. She determined, before she shed the blood of the besiegers, to
repeat the warning with her own voice; and accordingly she mounted one
of the boulevards of the town, which was within hearing of the
Tourelles, and thence she spoke to the English, and bade them depart,
otherwise they would meet with shame and woe.
Sir William Gladsdale--whom the French call "Glacidas"--commanded the
English post at the Tourelles, and he and another English officer
replied by bidding her go home and keep her cows, and by ribald jests
that brought tears of shame and indignation into her eyes. But, though
the English leaders vaunted aloud, the effect produced on their army by
Jeanne's presence in Orleans was proved four days after her arrival,
when, on the approach of reënforcements and stores to the town, Jeanne
and La Hire marched out to meet them, and escorted the long train of
provision wagons safely into Orleans, between the bastiles of the
English, who cowered behind their walls instead of charging fiercely and
fearlessly, as had been their wont, on any French band that dared to
show itself within reach.
Thus far she had prevailed without striking a blow; but the time was now
come to test her courage amid the horrors of actual slaughter. On the
afternoon of the day on which she had escorted the reënforcements into
the city, while she was resting fatigued at home, Dunois had seized an
advantageous opportunity of attacking the English bastile of St. Loup,
and a fierce assault of the Orleannais had been made on it, which the
English garrison of the fort stubbornly resisted. Jeanne was roused by a
sound which she believed to be that of her heavenly voices; she called
for her arms and horse, and, quickly equipping herself, she mounted to
ride off to where the fight was raging. In her haste she had forgotten
her banner; she rode back, and, without dismounting, had it given to her
from the window, and then she galloped to the gate whence the sally had
been made.
On her way she met some of the wounded French who had been carried back
from the fight. "Ha!" she exclaimed, "I never can see French blood flow
without my hair standing on end." She rode out of the gate, and met the
tide of her countrymen, who had been repulsed from the English fort, and
were flying back to Orleans in confusion. At the sight of the holy Maid
and her banner they rallied and renewed the assault, Jeanne rode forward
at their head, waving her banner and cheering them on. The English
quailed at what they believed to be the charge of hell; St. Loup was
stormed, and its defenders put to the sword, except some few, whom
Jeanne succeeded in saving. All her woman's gentleness returned when the
combat was over. It was the first time that she had ever seen a
battlefield. She wept at the sight of so many bleeding corpses; and her
tears flowed doubly when she reflected that they were the bodies of
Christian men who had died without confession.
The next day was Ascension Day, and it was passed by Jeanne in prayer.
But on the following morrow it was resolved by the chiefs of the
garrison to attack the English forts on the south of the river. For this
purpose they crossed the river in boats, and after some severe fighting,
in which the Maid was wounded in the heel, both the English bastiles of
the Augustins and St. Jean de Blanc were captured. The Tourelles were
now the only posts which the besiegers held on the south of the river.
But that post was formidably strong, and by its command of the bridge
it was the key to the deliverance of Orleans. It was known that a fresh
English army was approaching under Fastolfe to reënforce the besiegers,
and, should that army arrive while the Tourelles were yet in the
possession of their comrades, there was great peril of all the
advantages which the French had gained being nullified, and of the siege
being again actively carried on.
It was resolved, therefore, by the French to assail the Tourelles at
once, while the enthusiasm which the presence and the heroic valor of
the Maid had created was at its height. But the enterprise was
difficult. The rampart of the tête-du-pont, or landward bulwark, of the
Tourelles was steep and high, and Sir John Gladsdale occupied this
all-important fort with five hundred archers and men-at-arms, who were
the very flower of the English army.
Early in the morning of the 7th of May some thousands of the best French
troops in Orleans heard mass and attended the confessional by Jeanne's
orders, and then crossing the river in boats, as on the preceding day,
they assailed the bulwark of the Tourelles "with light hearts and heavy
hands." But Gladsdale's men, encouraged by their bold and skilful
leader, made a resolute and able defence. The Maid planted her banner on
the edge of the fosse, and then, springing down into the ditch, she
placed the first ladder against the wall and began to mount. An English
archer sent an arrow at her, which pierced her corselet and wounded her
severely between the neck and shoulder. She fell bleeding from the
ladder; and the English were leaping down from the wall to capture her,
but her followers bore her off. She was carried to the rear and laid
upon the grass; her armor was taken off, and the anguish of her wound
and the sight of her blood made her at first tremble and weep.
But her confidence in her celestial mission soon returned: her patron
saints seemed to stand before her and reassure her. She sat up and drew
the arrow out with her own hands. Some of the soldiers who stood by
wished to stanch the blood by saying a charm over the wound; but she
forbade them, saying that she did not wish to be cured by unhallowed
means. She had the wound dressed with a little oil, and then, bidding
her confessor come to her, she betook herself to prayer.
In the mean while the English in the bulwark of the Tourelles had
repulsed the oft-renewed efforts of the French to scale the wall.
Dunois, who commanded the assailants, was at last discouraged, and gave
orders for a retreat to be sounded. Jeanne sent for him and the other
generals, and implored them not to despair.
"By my God," she said to them, "you shall soon enter in there. Do not
doubt it. When you see my banner wave again up to the wall, to your arms
again! the fort is yours. For the present, rest a little and take some
food and drink."
"They did so," says the old chronicler of the siege, "for they obeyed
her marvellously."
The faintness caused by her wound had now passed off, and she headed the
French in another rush against the bulwark. The English, who had thought
her slain, were alarmed at her reappearance, while the French pressed
furiously and fanatically forward. A Biscayan soldier was carrying
Jeanne's banner. She had told the troops that directly the banner
touched the wall they should enter. The Biscayan waved the banner
forward from the edge of the fosse, and touched the wall with it, and
then all the French host swarmed madly up the ladders that now were
raised in all directions against the English fort. At this crisis the
efforts of the English garrison were distracted by an attack from
another quarter. The French troops who had been left in Orleans had
placed some planks over the broken arch of the bridge, and advanced
across them to the assault of the Tourelles on the northern side.
Gladsdale resolved to withdraw his men from the landward bulwark, and
concentrate his whole force in the Tourelles themselves. He was passing
for this purpose across the drawbridge that connected the Tourelles and
the tête-du-pont, when Jeanne, who by this time had scaled the wall of
the bulwark, called out to him, "Surrender! surrender to the King of
Heaven! Ah, Glacidas, you have foully wronged me with your words, but I
have great pity on your soul and the souls of your men." The Englishman,
disdainful of her summons, was striding on across the drawbridge, when a
cannon-shot from the town carried it away, and Gladsdale perished in the
water that ran beneath. After his fall, the remnant of the English
abandoned all further resistance. Three hundred of them had been killed
in the battle and two hundred were made prisoners.
The broken arch was speedily repaired by the exulting Orleannais, and
Jeanne made her triumphal reëntry into the city by the bridge that had
so long been closed. Every church in Orleans rang out its gratulating
peal; and throughout the night the sounds of rejoicing echoed, and the
bonfires blazed up from the city. But in the lines and forts which the
besiegers yet retained on the northern shore, there was anxious watching
of the generals, and there was desponding gloom among the soldiery. Even
Talbot now counselled retreat. On the following morning the Orleannais,
from their walls, saw the great forts called "London" and "St. Lawrence"
in flames, and witnessed their invaders busy in destroying the stores
and munitions which had been relied on for the destruction of Orleans.
Slowly and sullenly the English army retired; and not before it had
drawn up in battle array opposite to the city, as if to challenge the
garrison to an encounter. The French troops were eager to go out and
attack, but Jeanne forbade it. The day was Sunday.
"In the name of God," she said, "let them depart, and let us return
thanks to God."
She led the soldiers and citizens forth from Orleans, but not for the
shedding of blood. They passed in solemn procession round the city
walls, and then, while their retiring enemies were yet in sight, they
knelt in thanksgiving to God for the deliverance which he had vouchsafed
them.
Within three months from the time of her first interview with the
Dauphin, Jeanne had fulfilled the first part of her promise, the raising
of the siege of Orleans. Within three months more she had fulfilled the
second part also, and had stood with her banner in her hand by the high
altar at Rheims, while he was anointed and crowned as king Charles VII
of France. In the interval she had taken Jargeau, Troyes, and other
strong places, and she had defeated an English army in a fair field at
Patay. The enthusiasm of her countrymen knew no bounds; but the
importance of her services, and especially of her primary achievement at
Orleans, may perhaps be best proved by the testimony of her enemies.
There is extant a fragment of a letter from the regent Bedford to his
royal nephew, Henry VI, in which he bewails the turn that the war has
taken, and especially attributes it to the raising of the siege of
Orleans by Jeanne. Bedford's own words, which are preserved in Rymer,
are as follows:
"And alle thing there prospered for you til the tyme of the Siege of
Orleans taken in hand God knoweth by what advis. At the whiche tyme,
after the adventure fallen to the persone of my cousin of Salisbury,
whom God assoille, there felle, by the hand of God as it seemeth, a
great strook upon your peuple that was assembled there in grete nombre,
caused in grete partie, as y trowe, of lakke of sadde beleve, and of
unlevefulle doubte, that thei hadde of a disciple and lyme of the
Feende, called the Pucelle, that used fals enchantments and sorcerie.
"The whiche strooke and discomfiture nott oonly lessed in grete partie
the nombre of your peuple there, but as well withdrewe the courage of
the remenant in merveillous wyse, and couraiged your adverse partie and
ennemys to assemble them forthwith in grete nombre."
When Charles had been anointed king of France, Jeanne believed that her
mission was accomplished. And in truth the deliverance of France from
the English, though not completed for many years afterward, was then
insured. The ceremony of a royal coronation and anointment was not in
those days regarded as a mere costly formality. It was believed to
confer the sanction and the grace of heaven upon the prince, who had
previously ruled with mere human authority. Thenceforth he was the
Lord's Anointed. Moreover, one of the difficulties that had previously
lain in the way of many Frenchmen when called on to support Charles VII
was now removed. He had been publicly stigmatized, even by his own
parents, as no true son of the royal race of France. The queen-mother,
the English, and the partisans of Burgundy called him the "Pretender to
the title of Dauphin"; but those who had been led to doubt his
legitimacy were cured of their scepticism by the victories of the holy
Maid and by the fulfilment of her pledges. They thought that heaven had
now declared itself in favor of Charles as the true heir of the crown of
St. Louis, and the tales about his being spurious were thenceforth
regarded as mere English calumnies.
With this strong tide of national feeling in his favor, with victorious
generals and soldiers round him, and a dispirited and divided enemy
before him, he could not fail to conquer, though his own imprudence and
misconduct, and the stubborn valor which the English still from time to
time displayed, prolonged the war in France until the civil Wars of the
Roses broke out in England, and left France to peace and repose.
TRIAL AND EXECUTION OF JEANNE D'ARC
A.D. 1431
Jules Michelet