Thus the English were routed with great loss, their leading
generals prisoners in the hands of the Maid, and the road for the
King open, not to Rheims alone, but to the very walls of Paris, had
he so chosen.
Indeed, there were those amongst us who would gladly and joyfully
have marched under our great white banner right to the capital of
the kingdom, and driven forth from it the English Regent and all
the soldiers with him, whether Burgundians or those of his own
nation. For Fastolffe was flying along the road which led him
thither, and it would have been a joy to many of us to pursue and
overtake, to rout him and his army, or put them to the sword, and
to march up beneath the walls of Paris itself, and demand its
surrender in the name of the Maid!
Those there were amongst us who even came and petitioned of her to
lead us thither, and strike a death blow, once and for all, against
the power of the alien foe who had ruled our fair realm too long;
but though her eyes brightened as we spoke, and though all that was
martial in her nature responded to the appeal thus made to her--for
by this time she was a soldier through every fibre of her being,
and albeit ever extraordinarily tender towards the wounded, the
suffering, the dying--be they friends or foes--the soldier spirit
within her burned ever higher and higher, and she knew in her clear
head that humanly speaking, we could embark upon such a victorious
march as perchance the world has never seen before--certainly not
beneath such a leader.
And yet she shook her head, even whilst her cheek flushed and her
eyes sparkled. Little as the King had done to merit the deep
devotion of such a nature as hers, the Maid's loving loyalty
towards, and faith in him never wavered. Although we all saw in him
the idle, pleasure loving, indolent weakling, which in those days
he was, she could, or would, find no fault with him. Often as he
disappointed her, she never ceased to love and honour him.
Perchance it was given to her to see something of that manlier
nature which must have underlaid even then that which we saw and
grieved over. For she would hear no word against him. He was the
centre and sun of her purpose, and her answer to us was spoken
without hesitation.
"Nay, my friends, we have other work to do ere we may stand before
the walls of Paris. The Dauphin must be brought to Rheims, and the
crown set upon his head; for thus hath my Lord decreed, and I may
not act other than as my voices direct."
And when the Maid spoke thus, there was no contradicting or
gainsaying her. We had such confidence in her by this, that
whatever she did was right in our eyes The soldiers would have
followed her eagerly to the very walls of Paris; but at her command
they turned back and marched, with pennons flying and music
sounding, to the Court of the King, where news of the Chasse of
Patay had already preceded us, and where a joyous welcome awaited
our return, though even now there were sour and jealous faces
amongst the nearest advisers of the King.
If you would believe it, they still opposed the journey of the King
to Rheims, working on his fears, his irresolution, his indolence,
and seeking to undermine the influence of the Maid, when she went
personally to see him, that she might speak with him face to face.
He himself had many excuses to offer.
"Sweet Chevaliere," he would say, calling her by one of the names
which circulated through the Court, "why such haste? Is it not time
that you should rest and take your ease after your many and arduous
toils? Think what you have accomplished in these few days! Flesh
and blood cannot continue at such a strain. Let us now enjoy the
fruits of these wonderful victories; let us feast and rejoice and
enjoy a period of repose. Surely that is prudent counsel; for we
must have care for our precious Maid, whom none can replace in our
army, if she, by too arduous toil, should do herself an injury!"
But the Maid looked at him with her grave eyes full of earnest
pleading and searching questioning.
"Gentle Dauphin, I beseech you speak not thus, nor reason after
such carnal fashion. Think of what your Lord and my Lord has done
for you! Think of what hath been accomplished by Him since first it
was given to me to look upon your face. Think what He hath decreed
and what He hath already wrought for the furtherance of His purpose
towards your Majesty and this realm! And shall His will be set
aside? Shall we, His children, hang back and thwart Him, just in
the hour when He has put the victory in our hands? Ah, sweet
Dauphin, that would be shame, indeed! That would be pain and grief
to Him. Cast away all such unworthy thought! Press on to the goal,
now in sight! When you stand, crowned and anointed, King of France,
you shall know the power wherewith you have been upheld, and lifted
from the very mire of humiliation and disgrace!"
And at these words the Duc d'Alencon, who was by this an ardent
believer in the Maid, and devotedly attached to her service,
prostrated himself before the King, and cried:
"Sire, this Maid speaks words of wisdom. I pray your Majesty to
give full heed to what she says. Had you watched her as I have
done, had you marched with her and seen her in battle as well as in
scenes of peace, you would know well that the power of God is with
her. Fear not to do her bidding! Go forth as she bids. Let us hail
you King of your fair realm, and then let the Maid lead us on to
other and greater victories!"
We all joined our entreaties to that of the Duke. We marvelled how
the King could be so blind. But whilst others spoke and urged him,
whilst we saw the light kindle in the monarch's eyes, and knew that
her words had prevailed with him, she stood apart as one who
dreams; and over her face there stole a strange, pale shadow,
unlike anything I had seen there before. She saw nothing of the
scene about her; heard no word of what passed. I think she did not
even know what was meant by the great shout which suddenly went up
when the King arose and declared, once and for all, that his mind
was made up, that he would march with the Maid to Rheims; that he
would not be daunted by the fact that in Troyes and in Chalons
English garrisons yet remained, which might give him trouble in
passing. What the Maid had done before she could do again. All that
hitherto she had promised had been fulfilled; the fear of her had
fallen upon the English, and the terror of the English no longer
weighed upon the spirits of the French. He would go, come what
might. He would trust in the power of the Maid to finish that which
she had begun.
The shouts and plaudits of the courtiers within the castle, and of
the soldiers without, when this thing was known, was evidence
enough of the confidence and enthusiasm which the exploits of the
Maid had awakened. Not a soldier who had followed her heretofore
but would follow her now, wherever she should lead them. Surely her
heart must have swelled with joy and pride as she heard the clamour
of frantic applause ringing through the place.
But when she was back in her own apartments, and I was able to
approach her alone, I ventured to ask her something concerning her
silence of a short time back.
I always think with a great pride and tender joy of the trust and
friendship which the Maid reposed in me, thereby doing me a vast
honour. I had often ridden beside her on our marches, especially in
the earlier days, when she had not so many to claim her words and
counsels. Methinks she had spoken to Bertrand, to me, and to Sir
Guy de Laval with more freedom respecting her voices and her
visions than to any others, save, perhaps, the King himself, of
whom she had ever said she had revelations for his ear alone. She
would talk to us of things which for the most part she kept locked
away in her own breast; and now when I did ask her what it was that
had robbed her cheek of its colour, and wrapped her in a strange
trance of grave musing, she passed her hand across her eyes, and
then looked at me full, with a strange intensity of gaze.
"If I only knew! If I only knew myself!" she murmured.
"Did your voices speak to you, mistress mine? I have seen you fall
into such musing fits before this, when something has been
revealed; but then your eyes have been bright with joy--this time
they were clouded as with trouble."
"It was when the Duke spoke of other victories," she said,
dreamily; "I seemed to see before me a great confusion as of men
fighting and struggling. I saw my white banner fluttering, as it
were, victoriously; and yet there was a darkness upon my spirit. I
saw blackness--darkness--confusion; there was battle and
strife--garments rolled in blood. My own white pennon was the
centre of some furious struggle. I could not see what it was, waves
of black vapour rose and obscured my view. Then, in the midst of
the smoke and vapour, I saw a great pillar of fire, rising up as to
the very sky itself, and out of the fire flew a white dove. Then a
voice spoke--one of my own voices; but in tones different from any
I have heard before--'Have courage, even to death, Jeanne,' it
said, 'for we will still be with you.' Then everything faded once
more, and I heard only the shouting of the people, and knew that
the King had made his decision, and that he had promised to receive
his crown, which has waited for him so long."
As she spoke these last words, the cloud seemed to lift. Her own
wonderful smile shone forth again.
"If this be so; if, indeed, the Dauphin shall be made King, what
matters that I be taken away? My work will end when the crown shall
be set upon his head. Then, indeed, my soul shall say: 'Lord, now
lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace.'"
Her face was suddenly transfigured--radiant--with some great and
glorious thought. I was glad at heart to see that the shadow had
passed entirely away. Only for a moment could any presage of
personal fear cloud the sweet serenity of the Maid's nature. And
yet I went from her something troubled myself; for had I not reason
to know what strange power she possessed of reading the future, and
what did it mean, that confusion of battle, that intermingling of
victory and defeat, that darkness of smoke and blaze of fire, and
the white dove flying forth unscathed? I had heard too often the
shouts of the infuriated English--"We will take you and burn you,
you White Witch! You shall perish in the flames from whence the
devil, your father, has sent you forth!"--not to hear with a
shudder any vision of smoke and of fire. But again, had not the
Maid ever prevailed in battle over her foes? Might she not laugh to
scorn all such threats?
Ah me! It is well that we may not read the future, else how could
we bear the burden of life?
Joyous and triumphant was the day upon which, after some inevitable
delays, we started forth--a goodly company in sooth--an army at our
back, swelling with pride and triumph--to take our young King to
the appointed place, and see the crown of France there set upon his
head. From all quarters news was pouring in of the hopeless
disruption of the power of the English after the Chasse de Patay.
Towns and villages which had submitted in sullen acquiescence
before, now sent messages of loyalty and love to the King. Men
flocked daily to join our standard as we marched. It was a sight to
see the villagers come forth, clad in their holiday dress, eager to
see and pay homage to the King, but yet more eager to look upon the
white mailed figure at his side and shout aloud the name of THE
MAID OF ORLEANS!
For the place of honour at the King's right hand was reserved for
the Maid, and she rode beside him without fear, without protest,
without shame. Gentle, humble, and simple as she always was, she
knew herself the Messenger of a greater King than that of France,
and the honour done to her she accepted as done to her Lord, and
never faltered beneath it, as she was never puffed up or made
haughty or arrogant thereby. Nor did she ever lose her tenderness
of heart, nor her quick observation of trivial detail in the
absorbing interests of her greatness.
She was the first to note signs of distress upon the part of the
soldiers, during this march in the midsummer heat. It was she who
would suggest a halt in the noontide, in some wooded spot, that
"her children" might rest and refresh themselves, and it was she
who, never tired herself, would go amongst them, asking them of
their well being, and bringing with her own hands some luscious
fruit or some cooling draught to any soldier who might be suffering
from the effects of the sun.
She who rode beside a King, who was the greatest and most renowned
of that great company, would minister with her own hands to the
humblest of her followers; and if ever King or Duke or courtier
jested or remonstrated with her on the matter, her answer was
always something like this:
"They are my own people. I am one of them. At home when any was
sick in the village, I was always sent for. And wherefore not now?
I am the same as I was then. Soon I shall be going back to them, my
task accomplished. Wherefore should I not be their friend and
sister still?"
Then all would laugh to think of the Maid of Orleans going back to
take up the life of a peasant again at Domremy; but the Maid's face
grew grave and earnest as she would make reply:
"Indeed, if my work for my King is accomplished, I would fain do
so. I was so happy, so happy in my sweet home."
But now our triumphal march was suddenly brought to a halt; for we
were approaching the town of Troyes--a place of ill omen to France,
and to the young King in particular, for there the shameful treaty
was signed which robbed him of his crown; and great was the
dissension amongst the King's counsellors as to what should be
done.
The place was strong, the English garrison there large. A summons
to surrender sent on in advance had been ignored, and now came the
question--should the army pass on its way to Rheims leaving this
place in the rear unattacked and untaken, or should it run the risk
of a long delay, and perhaps some peril and loss in attempting to
reduce it?
La Hire and Dunois spoke out insistently. At all costs the town
must be taken. It would be folly and madness to leave such a
stronghold of the enemy in the rear. Other places had fallen before
the victorious Maid, and why not this? The army would go anywhere
with her. The soldiers only desired to be told what she counselled,
and to a man they would support her. They had lost all fear of the
foe, if only the Maid led them into battle, whether in the open or
against massive walls.
But as usual the King's nearest counsellors were all for delay, for
avoiding battle, for retreat rather than risk. The Archbishop of
Rheims, instead of being eager to push on to the place which so far
was only his in name, for he had never been aught but titular
Archbishop as yet, was always one with La Tremouille in advising
caution and a timid policy. Both were the enemies of the Maid,
jealous of her gifts and of her influence with the King, and
fearful lest her power over him should grow and increase. They even
plotted that she should be excluded from the council now sitting
anent this very matter, and it was only when the King and the Duc
d'Alencon, growing restless and impatient at her absence, desired
her presence instantly, that she was sent for.
There was a grave dignity about her as she entered, which sat
impressively upon her young face, so fair and sweet and gentle. She
knew that timid counsels were being held, and that she, the
Commander-in-Chief of the army, was being set aside--the Messenger
from the Lord was being ignored. Not for herself, but for Him was
her spirit moved.
The Archbishop with much circumlocution told her of the difficulty
in which the King's Council was placed, and would have discoursed
for long upon the situation, only that in his first pause the Maid
spoke, addressing herself to the King:
"Shall I be believed if I speak my counsel?" she asked.
"You will be believed according as you speak," answered the King,
thoroughly uneasy, as he ever was, when torn in twain by the
multitude of counsellors with whom he must needs surround himself,
though his heart ever inclined towards the Maid.
"I speak that which my Lord gives me to speak," she answered, her
wonderful eyes full upon the King. "Shall I be believed?"
"If you speak that which is reasonable and profitable, I will
certainly believe you," he answered, still uneasy beneath her look.
"Shall I be believed?" she questioned a third time, and there was a
fire in her eyes which seemed to leap out and scathe the
pusillanimous monarch as he sat quaking in his Council.
"Speak, Maiden," he cried out then, "I at least will believe!"
"Then, noble Dauphin," she cried, "order your army to assault this
city of Troyes, where such despite has been done you, and hold no
more councils; for my Lord has told me that within three days I
shall lead you into the town, and false Burgundy and proud England
shall there be overthrown!"
"Pouf!" cried the Chancellor, one of the Maid's worst foes, "if
there was a chance of doing such a thing in six days we would
willingly wait; but--"
He stopped suddenly--none knew why, save that the Maid's eyes were
fixed full upon him, and in those eyes was that strange shining
light which some of us knew so well. She did not speak to him, but
when his voice suddenly wavered and broke, she addressed herself to
the King, speaking as one who repeats a message.
"You shall be master of the city of Troyes, noble Dauphin, not in
six days--but tomorrow."
And even as she spoke, without waiting for any response, she turned
and went forth, walking with her head well up, and her eyes fixed
straight before her, yet as one who walks in sleep, and pays no
heed to what lies before him. She called for her horse; and leaping
into the saddle, rode out bareheaded in the summer sun to the camp
where the soldiers lay, in doubt and wonderment at this delay; and
as they sprang up to a man at sight of her, and broke into the
acclamations which always greeted her appearance amongst them, she
lifted up her clear ringing voice and cried:
"Be ready, my children, against the morrow, confess your sins, make
your peace with God and man. For tomorrow He will lead you
victorious into yonder frowning city, and not a hair of your heads
shall suffer!"
They crowded about her, filling the air with shouts of triumph;
they clamoured to be led at once against the grim frowning walls. I
verily believe, had she put herself at their head then and there,
that nothing could have withstood the elan of their attack; but the
Maid received her orders from a source we knew not of, and fleshly
pride never tempted her to swerve from the appointed path. She
smiled at the enthusiasm of the men, but she shook her head gently
and firmly.
"Do my bidding, my children, confess yourselves and pray till set
of sun. Then I will come to you and set you your appointed tasks,
and tomorrow I will lead you into the city!"
That night there was no sleep for the Maid or for her soldiers. At
no time was it dark, for midsummer was over the land, and the moon
hung in the sky like a silver lamp when the sun had set. The Maid
came forth as she had said with the last of the daylight, and at
her command a great mound was speedily raised, of earth, brushwood,
faggots, stones--anything that the soldiers could lay hands upon;
and when this hillock was of height sufficient to satisfy the young
General, the great guns were brought and set upon it in such
masterly fashion, and in such a commanding way, that La Hire,
Dunois and Xantrailles, who came to see, marvelled at it, and we
could note from the top of this earthwork that within the city
great commotion reigned, and that it was as busy as a hive that has
been disturbed.
As the first mystic glow of the summer's dawn kindled in the
eastern sky, the Maid stood, a white luminous figure in full
armour, poised lightly on the top of one of our pieces of ordnance,
her drawn sword in her hand, pointing full in the direction of the
city.
I have heard since from those within that the anxious garrison and
citizens saw this motionless figure, and cried aloud in terror and
awe. To them it seemed as though St. Michael himself had come down
to fight against them, and terror stricken they ran to the
governors of the city and implored that surrender might be made,
ere the heavens opened and rained lightnings down upon them.
And thus it came about that ere the dawn had fairly come, an
embassy was sent to the King and terms of surrender offered. The
King, from motives of policy or fear, the Maid, from pity and
generosity, accepted the messengers graciously, and granted the
garrison leave to depart with their horses and their arms, if the
town were peacefully given up; and thus it came about that after
the King had finished his night's slumber, and the Maid had done
her gracious part in redeeming and releasing the French prisoners,
which, but for her, would have been carried away by the retiring
English and Burgundians, she rode beside the King, and at the head
of the cheering and tumultuous army into the city of Troyes, which
had surrendered to the magic of her name without striking a blow.
"O my Chevaliere," cried the happy and triumphant monarch, as he
turned to look into her grave serene face. "What a wonderful Maid
you are! Stay always with me, Jeanne, and be my friend and General
to my life's end."
She looked at him long and earnestly as she made answer:
"Alas, Sire, it may not be! For a year--perhaps for a year. But I
shall last no longer than that!"