We started forth from Selles, where the army which was to do this
work had assembled. It was not so great a force as it would have
been but for the hesitations of the King, and the delays imposed by
his Council. For the men who had marched from Orleans, flushed with
victory, eager to rush headlong upon the foe and drive them back to
their own shores, had grown weary of the long waiting, and had been
infected by the timidity or the treachery of those about the Court.
They had melted away by little and little, carrying with them the
booty they had found in the English bastilles round Orleans, glad
to return to their homes and their families without further
fighting, though had the Maid been permitted to place herself at
their head at once, as she did desire, they would have followed her
to the death.
Still, when all was said and done, it was a gallant troop that
responded to her call and mustered at her summons. The magic of her
name still thrilled all hearts, and throughout the march of events
which followed, it was always the common soldiers who trusted
implicitly in the Maid; they left doubts and disputings and
unworthy jealousies to the officers and the statesmen.
The Maid went forth with a greater glory and honour than has,
methinks, ever been bestowed upon woman before--certainly upon no
humbly-born maiden of seventeen years. Some said that she was
actually ennobled in her own person by the grant to quarter the
lilies of France, and that her brothers ranked now amongst the
knights and nobles. Others declared that she had refused all
personal honours, and that she still remained a humble peasant,
though so high in the favour of the King, and so great a personage
in the realm.
As for me, I cared nothing for all this. To me she was always the
Angelic Maid, heaven sent, miraculous, apart from the earth, though
living amongst us and leading us on to victory.
To the army she was--and that was enough. She was the companion and
friend of princes, nobles, and knights; but she was never as others
were. An atmosphere of sanctity seemed ever to encompass her. All
who approached her did her unconscious homage. None could be with
her long without being conscious that she was visited by sounds
unheard by them, that her eyes saw sights to which theirs were
closed. We were to have added witness to this in the days which
followed.
So here we were gathered at Selles upon that bright June morning,
just one month after the relief of Orleans. The King had presented
to the Maid a great black charger; a mighty creature of immense
strength and spirit, but with something of a wicked look in his
rolling eyes which made me anxious as he was led forward. The Maid
in her white armour--its rent deftly mended, its silver brilliance
fully restored--with her velvet white-plumed cap upon her head and
a little axe in her hand, stood waiting to mount. But perhaps it
was the gleaming whiteness of this slender figure that startled the
horse, or else the cries and shouts of the populace at sight of the
Maid excited him to the verge of terror; for he reared and plunged
so madly as his rider approached that it was with difficulty he was
held by two stalwart troopers, and we all begged of the Maid not to
trust herself upon his back.
She looked at us with a smile, and made a little courteous gesture
with her hand; then turning to the attendants she said:
"Lead him yonder to the cross at the entrance to the church; I will
mount him there."
Snorting and struggling, casting foam flakes from his lips, and
fighting every inch of the way, the great charger was led whither
the Maid had said. But once arrived at the foot of the cross, he
suddenly became perfectly quiet. He stood like a statue whilst the
Maid approached, caressed him gently with the hand from which she
had drawn her mailed gauntlet, and, after speaking kindly words to
him, vaulted lightly on his back.
From that moment her conquest of the fierce creature was complete.
He carried her throughout that wonderful week with a gentleness and
docility, and an untiring strength which was beautiful to see. The
brute creation owned her sway as well as did men of understanding,
who could watch and weigh her acts and deeds.
So, amid the plaudits of the people, the fanfare of trumpets, the
rolling of drums, the rhythmical tread of thousands of mailed feet,
we rode forth from Selles, led by the Maid, beside whom rode the
King's cousin, the Duc d'Alencon, now resolved to join us, despite
his former hesitancy and the fears of his wife. He had marched with
us to Orleans, but had then turned back, perhaps with the not
unnatural fear of again falling into the hands of the English. This
had happened to him at Agincourt, and only lately had he been
released.
Perhaps his fears were pardonable, and those of his wife more so.
She had sought earnestly to hold him hack from this new campaign;
and, when she could not prevail with him, she had addressed herself
to the Maid with tears in her eyes, telling her how long had been
his captivity in England, and with how great a sum he had been
ransomed. Why must he adventure himself again into danger?
The Maid had listened to all with gentle sympathy. Though so
fearless herself she was never harsh to those who feared, and the
appeal of the Duchesse touched her.
"Fear nothing, Madame," she answered, "I will bring him back to you
safe and sound. Only pray for him always--pray for us day and
night. I will make his safety my special care. He shall return to
you unharmed; but I pray you hinder him not from serving his
country in this great hour of need."
So the Maid prevailed, and the Duc was entrusted with the command
of the army, second only to the Maid herself, who was distinctly
placed at the head of all--whose word was to be supreme; whilst the
King's fiat went forth that no Council should be held without her,
and that she was to be obeyed as the head in all things!
And men like Dunois, La Hire, and the Chevalier Gaucourt heard this
without a murmur! Think of it!--a campaign conducted by a girl of
seventeen, who, until a few weeks before, had never seen a shot
fired in her life! Ah; but all men remembered Orleans, and were not
surprised at the King's decree.
As we marched along in close array, we gathered many recruits by
the way, notwithstanding that we were in the territory which had
submitted to the English rule. Knights and gentlemen flocked forth
from many a chateau to join themselves to the army of the
miraculous Maid, whilst humble peasants, fired by patriotism and
zeal, came nightly into our camp seeking to be enrolled amid those
who followed and fought beneath her banner.
And so for three days we marched, our ranks swelling, our hearts
full of zeal and confidence, till news was brought us that the Duke
of Suffolk, one of the bravest and most chivalrous of English
knights and soldiers, had thrown himself and his followers into
Jargeau, and was hastily fortifying it for a siege.
This news reached us at Orleans itself, whither we had returned in
the course of our march, to be received with wild acclamations by
the people there. So loving were the citizens, that they were loth
indeed to see the Maid set forth upon any mission which threatened
danger to herself or her army; and their protestations and
arguments so wrought upon many of the generals and officers, that
they united to beg her to remain inactive awhile, and send to the
King for fresh reinforcements before attempting any such arduous
task.
The Maid listened with her grave eyes wide in amazement.
"You say this to me--here in Orleans! You who have seen what my
Lord accomplished for us before! Shame upon you for your lack of
faith--for your unworthy thoughts. We march for Jargeau at dawn
tomorrow!"
Never before had we heard the Maid speak with quite such severity
of tone and word. Her glorious eyes flashed with a strange lambent
light. She looked every inch the ruler of men. All heads were bent
before her. None dared speak a word to hinder her in her purpose.
The morrow saw us before Jargeau. Its walls were strong, it was
well supplied with those great guns that belched forth fire and
smoke, and scattered huge stone balls against any attacking force.
But we had brought guns with us--great pieces of ordnance, to set
against the city walls, and the Maid ordered these to be brought
and placed in certain positions, never asking counsel, always
acting on her own initiative, without hesitation and without haste,
calm and serene; with that deep, farseeing gaze of hers turned from
her own position to the city and back again, as though she saw in
some miraculous vision what must be the end of all this toil.
"Mort de Dieu!" cried La Hire, forgetting in his wonder the loyally
kept promise to swear only by his baton, "but the Maid has nothing
to learn in the art of gunnery! Where hath she learnt such skill,
such wisdom! We never had guns to place at Orleans! Where has the
child seen warfare, that she places her artillery with the skill of
a tried general of forces!"
Ah!--where had the Maid learned her skill in any kind of warfare?
Had we not been asking this from the first? This was but another
development of the same miracle. For my part I had ceased now to
wonder at anything which she said or did.
At daybreak on the morrow the roar of battle began. The air was
shaken by the crash and thunder of the guns from both sides. But it
was plain to all eyes how that the cunning disposition of our
pieces, set just where they could deal most effectively with a weak
point in the fortifications, or a gateway less capable than others
of defence, were doing far more hurt to the enemy than their fire
did to us. For the most part their balls passed harmlessly over our
heads, and the clouds of arrows were for us the greater danger,
though our armour protected us from over-much damage.
But it was before Jargeau that the incident happened, which so many
writers have told of the Maid and the Duc d'Alencon; how that she
did suddenly call to him, nay more, drew him with her own hand out
of the place where he had stood for some time near to her, saying
in a voice of warning, "Have a care, my lord, there is death at
hand!"
Another young knight boldly stepped into that very position from
which she had snatched Alencon, and an instant afterwards his head
was struck off by a cannon ball. The Maid saw and covered her eyes
for a moment with her mailed hand.
"Lord have mercy on that brave soul!" she whispered, "but why did
he not heed the warning?"
Well, the fighting round Jargeau was fierce and long; but the Maid
with her standard held stubbornly to the place beside the wall
which she had taken up, and at sight of her, and at the sound of
her clear, silvery voice, encouraging and commanding, the men came
ever on and on, regardless of peril, till the scaling ladders were
set, and through the breaches torn in the walls by the guns, our
soldiers swarmed over into the town, shouting with the shout of
those with whom is the victory.
Again the Maid triumphed. Again the hearts of the English melted
within them at the sight of the White Witch, as they would
tauntingly call her, even whilst they cowered and fled before her.
The French were swarming into the city; the great gates were flung
open with acclamations of triumph; and the Maid marched in to take
possession, her white banner floating proudly before her, her eyes
alight, her cheeks flushed.
One of the young gentlemen not long since added to her household,
Guillame Regnault by name, from Auvergne, a very knightly youth, a
favourite with us all, came striding up to the Maid, and saluting
with deep reverence, begged speech with her. She was never too much
occupied to receive those who came to her, and instantly he had her
ear.
"My General," he said, "the Duke of Suffolk is close at hand. We
pressed him hard, and it seemed as though he would die sword in
hand, ere he would yield. But I did beg of him in his own tongues
with which I am acquainted, not to throw away his noble life;
whereupon he did look hard at me, pausing the while in thrust and
parry, as all others did pause, for us to parley; and he said that
he would give up his sword to THE MAID OF ORLEANS, and to none
other. Wherefore I did tell him that I would run and fetch her to
receive his submission, or take him to her myself. But then his
mind did change, and he said to me, 'Are you noble?' So I told him
that my family was noble, but that I had not yet won my
knighthood's spurs. Then forthwith did he uplift his sword, and I
read his meaning in his eyes. I bent my knee, and there and then he
dubbed me knight, and afterwards would have tendered me his sword,
but I said, 'Not so, gentle Duke, but I hear by the sound of the
silver trumpet that the Maid, our General, is close at hand. Suffer
me to tell her of what has passed, and I trow that she will herself
receive your sword at her hands.'"
"You did well, Sir Guillame," spoke the Maid, using the new title
for the first time, whereat the youth's face kindled and glowed
with pleasure. "Bring the Duke at once to me here. I will receive
his surrender in person."
Truly it was a pretty sight to watch--the dignified approach of the
stalwart soldier; tall, upright, a knightly figure in battered coat
of mail; bleeding from several wounds, but undaunted and
undauntable; and the slim, youthful white figure, with uncovered
head, and a face regal in its dignity; and yet so full of sweet
courtesy and honourable admiration for a beaten, yet noble foe. He
gazed upon her with a great wonder in his eyes, and then, dropping
upon one knee, tendered his sword to her, which the Maid took, held
in her hands awhile, deep in thought, and then, with one of her
wonderfully sweet smiles, held out to him again.
"Gentle Duke," she said, "it hath been told me that you are known
in France as the English Roland; and if so, I would be loth to
deprive so noble a foe of his knightly weapon. Keep it, then, and
all I ask of you is that you use it no more against the soldiers of
France. And now, if you will let my gentlemen lead you to my tent,
your hurts shall be dressed, and you shall receive such tendance as
your condition requires."
But I may not linger over every incident of that march, nor all the
achievements of the Maid in the arts both of peace and of war.
Towns and castles surrendered at her summons, or flung wide their
gates at the news of her approach. Sometimes we fought, but more
often the very sound of her name, or the sight of the white figure
upon the great black horse was sufficient, and fortress after
fortress upon the Loire fell before her, the English garrisons
melting away or marching out, unable or unwilling to try
conclusions with so notable a warrior, who came, as it were, in the
power of the King of Heaven.
And not only did she achieve triumphs in war's domains; she was
equally victorious as a promoter of peace. For when the news was
brought to us that the Comte de Richemont, Constable of France, but
hitherto inimical to the King, desired to join us with a body of
men, the Duc d'Alencon would have sent him away with insult and
refused his proffer of help; but the Maid, with her gentle
authority and reasonable counsel, brought him to a different frame
of mind, and the Constable was received with a fair show of
graciousness. And although in the days which immediately followed
his aid was not of great importance (for when France had the Maid
to fight for her she wanted none beside), yet in the time to come,
when she was no longer there to battle for the salvation of her
country, De Richemont's loyal service to the King was of
inestimable value, and had it not been for the Maid at this
juncture, he might have been lost for ever to the French cause.
Her generosity shone out the more in that De Richemont was no
friend to her; indeed, he had regarded her as little better than a
witch before he came under the magic of her personality. His
greeting to her was rough and blunt.
"Maiden," he said, "they tell me that you are against me, and that
you are a witch. I know not whether you are from God or not. If you
are from Him, I do not fear you. If you are from the devil, I fear
you still less."
She looked him full in the face, gravely at first, but with a smile
kindling deep down in her eyes. Then she held out her hand in token
of amity.
"Brave Constable, this is well spoken. You have no cause to fear
me. You are not here by my will, it is true; for I have enough men
with me to do the will of my Lord; but since you have come for love
of the Dauphin, who soon must be crowned King, you are welcome
indeed; and I know that you will live to serve him faithfully,
though in the present you have foes at Court who turn his heart
from you."
So again she saw what lay beyond our ken, and which the future has
brought to light. Alas, that she never saw the day when the King
threw off his supine fear and idleness, and played the man in the
conquest of his kingdom, and when De Richemont fought like a lion
at his side! Yet who dare say that she did not see and did not
rejoice even then? If the light came only in gleams and flashes,
surely it came to her charged with an infinite joy!
And now I must tell of the last exploit of this wonderful eight
days' triumphal march through a hostile country--that battle of
Patay, where, for the first time, the Maid met the foe in the open,
and directed operations not against stone walls, as in every case
before, but against an army drawn up in a plain.
There had been marching and counter-marching which only a map could
make clear. What matters it the route we pursued, so long only as
our progress had been attended by victory, and the fortresses
cleared of foes, so that the journey of the King could now be taken
in safety? Yet there was one more peril to face; for the army so
long expected, under Sir John Fastolffe, was now heard of somewhere
close at hand. He had joined himself to Talbot, so it was rumoured,
and now a great host was somewhere in our neighbourhood, ready to
fall upon us if they could find us, and cut us to pieces, as they
had done so often before--witness the fields of Crecy, Poictiers,
and Agincourt!
For the first time there was uneasiness and fear in the ranks of
the soldiers. They had infinite confidence in the Maid as a leader
against stone walls, for had they not seen her take tower after
tower, city after city? But she had never led them in the open
field; and how could they expect to meet and triumph over the
English, who had always vanquished them heretofore?
We knew not where the foe lay; all we knew was that it was
somewhere close at hand; and so strong grew the fear in the hearts
of Alencon and many others, that they begged the Maid to fall back
upon the camp at Beaugency, and to wait there for further
reinforcements. But she shook her head with decision.
"Let us find them first, and then ride boldly at them. Be not
afraid; they will not stand. My Lord will give us the victory!"
And how did we come upon them at last? Verily, by a mere accident.
We were marching in good order towards the great plain of Beauce,
which at this time of the year was so thickly overgrown with
vineyards and cornfields that we saw nothing of any lurking foe;
and I trow that we were not seen of them, although a great host was
lying at ease in the noontide heat, watching for our coming, I
doubt not; but not yet drawn up in battle array.
A stag, frightened by our approach, broke from the thicket, and
went thundering across the plain. All at once a shower of arrows
let loose from English bows followed the creature's flight,
together with eager shouts and laughter, betraying the presence of
the unsuspecting foe.
With a lightning swiftness the Maid grasped the whole situation.
Here was an army, waiting to fight, it is true, but for the moment
off its guard. Here were we, in order of march. One word from her,
and our whole force would charge straight upon the foe!
And was that word lacking? Was there an instant's hesitation? Need
such a question be asked of the Maid? Clear and sweet rose her
wonderful voice, thrilling through the hot summer air.
"Forward, my children, forward, and fear not. Fly boldly upon them,
and the day shall be yours!"
She charged, herself, at the head of one column; but La Hire, in
the vanguard, was before her. With shouts of triumph and joy the
old veteran and his followers thundered into the very midst of the
startled English, and we followed in their wake.
The Duc d'Alencon rode beside the Maid. His face was pale with
excitement--perhaps with a touch of fear. He remembered the fight
at Agincourt, and the wound received there, the captivity and weary
waiting for release.
"How will it end, my General, how will it end?" he said, and I
heard his words and her reply, for I was riding close behind.
"Have you good spurs, M. de Duc?" she asked, with one flashing
smile showing the gleam of white teeth.
"Ah Ciel!" he cried in dismay; "then shall we fly before them?"
"Not so," she answered; "but they will fly so fast before us that
we shall need good spurs to keep up with them!"
And so, indeed, it was. Perhaps it was the sight of the elan of the
French troops, perhaps the fear of the White Witch, perhaps because
taken at unawares and in confusion, but the English for once made
no stand. Fastolffe and his men, on the outer skirts of the force,
rode off at once in some order, heading straight for Paris, but the
braver and less prudent Talbot sought, again and again, to rally
his men, and bring them to face the foe.
But it was useless. The rout was utter and complete. They could not
stand before the Maid; and when Talbot himself had fallen a
prisoner into our hands, the army melted away and ran for its life,
so that this engagement is called the "Chasse de Patay" to this
day.