THE HOUR AND THE GIRL
"_By Esther, Judith and Deborah, women of high
esteem, He delivered His oppressed people. And well I
know there have been women of great worship. But
Jeanne is above all. Through her God hath worked many
miracles._"
CHRISTINE DE PISAN. _Poem in honour of the Maid._
_July 31st, 1429._
Jeanne was eager to engage the enemy the next day, and the citizens would
gladly have followed her, but Dunois and the captains of the garrison did
not wish it. Their argument was that they ought to await the return of
the army from Blois. Jeanne's influence in war had not yet begun to be
felt, and so great was the fear of the French for the English that it was
said that two hundred Englishmen could put eight hundred or a thousand
Frenchmen to flight.
Forced into inactivity the Maid sent a herald with a summons to the
English, a procedure common at the time. There had been no reply to the
letter that she had sent from Blois, and neither had the herald been
returned. In this later epistle she summoned the surrender of the enemy
before the attack, demanding the return of her messenger. At the same
time Dunois wrote, warning them that any harm that came to the herald
should be retaliated upon the persons of the English prisoners held by
him. In compliance with Dunois' request the last herald was sent back,
but the English threatened to burn the other. While the person of a
herald was regarded as sacred by all the usages of war this man from the
Armagnac witch could have no rights, they declared, and should be burned
for his mistress. They laughed at the letter, and gave fierce defiances
to the Maid, calling her a dairy maid, bidding her go back to her cows,
and threatening to burn her if they caught her.
But in spite of these high words there was an undercurrent of fear in the
defiance. The English as well as the French believed that the latter had
supernatural aid, though the English held that the Witch of the Armagnacs
was emissary of evil rather than of good.
In the afternoon La Hire and Florent d'Illiers, two of the captains who
had entered the city with Jeanne, with a force of men-at-arms and some
citizens sallied forth from the city and attacked an English outpost
between their fortress of Paris and the city wall, and drove the men into
the main work. They thought to have burned this, but before they could do
so the English rallied and drove them back without much firing.
Jeanne was not present at this fray, but in the evening she rode forth,
the townspeople crowding about her, and placing herself on the town end
of the broken bridge--called out to the enemy, addressing them
courteously, summoning them once more to withdraw while there was time.
Sweetly and clearly her voice rang across the water, so that the English
who were in the fortress called Les Tourelles on the other side of the
bridge could not fail to hear her. Sir William Glasdale,--whom the French
called Classidas,--the knight in charge, came out on the bridge and
answered by hurling a volume of abuse upon her. Jeanne was not prepared
for the foul epithets that he called her, and for a brief time could not
speak, so overwhelmed was she. Then drawing her mystic sword she waved it
above her head, crying:
"Dost thou so speak, Classidas? Thou who art to die in so short a time
without stroke of sword!"
But Glasdale and his captains, who by this time had hurried to the walls
to catch sight of the witch, retorted with such vile words that Jeanne
could not restrain her tears, and wept bitterly. And so weeping she
returned to the city.
There being no sign of the return of the army Dunois, fearing that
without the presence of the Maid the favorite and the Royal Council might
so work upon the captains that they would fail to bring the army back,
determined to go to Blois and bring it himself. On Sunday, therefore,
with Jeanne's squire D'Aulon, he set forth. The Maid, with La Hire and
other captains, accompanied him to cover the departure, taking a position
at the special point of danger between the expedition and the enemy. But
in the towers not a man budged, not a shot was fired. So Dunois went on
his way unmolested, while Jeanne returned to the town. The citizens had
watched for her coming, and now walked by the side of her charger to the
cathedral, where every progress ended. The press to see her was at all
times great, and Jacques Boucher's door was almost broken in by the
eagerness of the people. She could hardly move through the crowded
streets when she went abroad, and it seemed that "they could not have
enough of the sight of her."
As an attack could not be made until the return of Count Dunois with the
army Jeanne rode out on Monday to reconnoitre the position of the
English, followed by the captains and soldiers and a great crowd of
townsfolk who seemed to feel no fear in her company.
On all sides of Orleans the country was very flat. The city was built
close to the northern bank of the Loire in a parallelogram, slightly
irregular on its western side, which curved outward and joined the
northern line at an acute angle. It was protected by a strong wall from
twenty to thirty feet high, having a parapet and machicolations, with
twenty-four towers. Outside the wall, except where it faced the river,
was a ditch forty feet wide and twenty feet deep.
There were four great gates in the walls that gave upon roads leading
from Orleans. On the north side were two, the Bannier Gate and the Paris
Gate leading to the Paris road; on the east was the Burgundy Gate and the
old Roman road leading to Jargeau; and on the west, the Regnart Gate upon
the road to Blois. It was through this last named gate that Jeanne went
to make her reconnoissance.
She found that the principal camp of the English was on this western
side. From the river northward, guarding the road to Blois, there were
five great bastilles, joined by ditches and covered trenches whereby the
enemy could easily prevent the going in of men and convoys of food. The
massing of the greatest number here was necessary, as this road led to
the royal provinces.
To the northeast the great forest of Orleans crept nearly to the city
walls. About a mile and a half beyond the Burgundy Gate on the east side
was the bastille of St. Loup, which commanded the road to Checy and on to
Jargeau, from which the English drew many of their supplies. This was one
of their strongest fortresses, and was the only one on this side, for the
reason that this road led to the possessions of the Duke of Burgundy, who
was with the English, and therefore no enemy was expected from this
direction.
On the south, the walls of the city rose directly from the river. A great
stone bridge with arches, buildings and fortifications spanned the water
here, but three of the arches had been broken, for the English now held
the bridge and its fortifications, having taken it from Orleans early in
the siege. On the last pier was built a strong fortress called Les
Tourelles, connected with the shore of the south bank by a drawbridge,
which in its turn was covered by a strong earthwork or boulevard.
As they held Les Tourelles the English had but three posts on the left
side of the river. One, Champ St. Prive, that guarded the road by the
left bank from Blois; Les Augustins, that was a short distance inland
from the boulevard of Les Tourelles; and St. Jean le Blanc, that was
higher up the river, and was a hold of no great strength.
There had been faubourgs, or suburbs, "the finest in the kingdom," about
the city, but their citizens destroyed them so that no Englishmen could
be sheltered among them. Fifteen thousand people were thus rendered
homeless, and crowded into Orleans, nearly doubling its population, and
threatening all with famine.
As Jeanne rode round the city at leisurely pace necks were craned over
the breastworks of the enemy to catch a glimpse of the witch, but not a
shot was fired from the forts. Like a shining vision she seemed, clad in
white armour, riding her white horse, her head covered by a little velvet
cap ornamented with nodding plumes, her dark hair flying about her face,
and though the English hurled words of abuse at her the lips that spoke
them were pale with superstitious terror. Unmolested Jeanne completed her
survey, then led her people back through the gate into the city, then to
the cathedral to vespers. Here Doctor Jean de Mascon, a "very wise man,"
said to her:
"My child, are you come to raise the siege?"
"In God's name, yes."
"My child, they are strong and well intrenched, and it will be a great
feat to drive them out." The wise man spoke despondently.
"There is nothing impossible to the power of God," Jeanne made answer.
The garrisons of Montargis, Gien, and Chateau Regnard came marching into
the city the next day, bringing word that the army and convoy from Blois
had started on the march for Orleans.
At dawn of Wednesday, therefore, Jeanne with La Hire and five hundred of
the garrison rode out to meet them. Dunois was coming by the route that
Jeanne had wished to take on her entry, and it was found to be no
difficult matter to make a wide detour around the forts, skirt the forest
at the back of the city where the English had no bastille, and enter by
the Paris Gate. So, led by the priests, chanting the Veni Creator, as at
Blois, headed by Father Pasquerel bearing the great standard, Jeanne
entered the city as she had planned to do. Right beneath the forts of the
English they rode and marched, but not a shot was fired, not a sally was
made from the forts. John, Lord of Talbot, was a brave man, but not even
a brave general can control demoralized and terrified men; men to whom
the slender figure in shining armour seemed like nothing mortal. By noon
Jeanne had her army safely housed in Orleans.
D'Aulon dined with Jeanne, and while they were seated at table, the Count
of Dunois entered and told the maiden that there was news that Sir John
Fastolf, he who had defeated the French at Rourvay in the Battle of the
Herrings, was coming from Paris with reinforcements and supplies for the
English, and that it was said that he was but a day's march distant.
Jeanne heard the tidings joyfully.
"Dunois, Dunois," she cried, elated that at last action must come, "I
command you, in God's name, to let me know as soon as he arrives. If you
do not, I--will have your head."
"For that I do not fear, Jeanne," replied the Count courteously. "I shall
let you have the news as soon as it comes." Then he took his leave.
Now there were some of the captains of the city who resented the
enthusiasm with which the maiden had been received. This was quite
natural among men who had been fighting unsuccessfully for months in
defence of the beleaguered city. Dunois, La Hire, Poton Zaintrailles and
a few others were exceptions to the men who felt jealousy of the Maid,
but the others were sore and wounded by her appearance and claims. A
certain Guillaume de Gamache felt himself insulted above all by the
suggestion that Jeanne should arrange the plan of procedure against the
enemy.
"What," he cried, "is the advice of this girl of the fields to be taken
against that of a knight and captain! I will fold up my banner, and
become again a simple soldier. I would rather have a nobleman for my
master than a woman whom nobody knows."
Dunois had tried to placate these men, but vainly. Jeanne, of course,
knew nothing about it. Later she was to be greatly harassed by these
jealousies. Those captains who had not shared in the expeditions of the
morning to meet Dunois and the army took advantage of the enthusiasm
aroused by the entrance of the men-at-arms under the very guns of the
enemy to make a sortie, unknown to the new leaders. They wished to show
how well they could do without the presence of the Holy Maid of
Vaucouleurs.
Jeanne was wearied by the early morning expedition, and so laid down in
the afternoon by the side of her hostess, Madame Boucher, and was asleep.
D'Aulon too felt fatigued, and also stretched himself on a couch for
rest. All at once Jeanne awoke with a wild cry of agitation and alarm.
"My Council tell me to go against the English," she cried, springing out
of bed. "But if to assail their towers, or to meet this Fastolf I cannot
tell."
And then her trouble grew, and her eyes had the rapt look left in them by
her visions.
"My arms, D'Aulon! My arms!" she cried. "Quick! The blood of our soldiers
is flowing. Why did they not tell me?"
All was quiet in the streets, and there came no sign of conflict on the
tranquil air of the May afternoon. But D'Aulon leaped to his feet at her
cry, and without a word began to buckle on her armour, assisted by Madame
Boucher and her little daughter. Meantime Jeanne was calling loudly to
her page for her horse. Hurriedly the youth saddled the charger and
brought it to the door. As Jeanne swung herself into the saddle she
perceived that her standard was wanting.
"My banner," she cried, and Louis the page handed it to her from the
upper chamber window. Then with the heavy flag staff in hand she set
spurs to her horse and dashed away at speed so that the fire flashed from
the stones that paved the thoroughfare. One by one her attendants armed
themselves and clattered after her.
And now came shouts and cries, and all at once the streets were filled
with people who cried loudly that the English were slaughtering the
French.
Straight through the town Jeanne galloped, riding toward the loudest
noise, which proved to be at the Burgundian Gate on the east side of the
city. The gate was open to let in a rabble of retreating French who were
bringing some wounded men with them. Overwhelmed with pity at the sight
Jeanne paled, and half drew rein.
"I can never see French blood but my hair rises with horror," she said to
D'Aulon, who had now overtaken her.
Through the gate they passed, and met a disorganized band of men-at-arms,
archers, and burghers flying before the English. For the coup which had
been planned by the captains was a sortie against the strong bastille of
St. Loup, and it had proven disastrous to those who had undertaken it.
There went up a great shout from the French as they caught sight of
Jeanne as she galloped through the gate. They rallied, turned, and swept
onward after her. Clear and sweet above the din of battle sounded her
bell-like voice:
"Friends, friends, have good courage. On! On! They are ours."
There never was anything like the response that followed. The French
surged forward upon the English, who had sallied confidently out of the
bastille to meet the first assault, and swept their foes before them,
driving them back into their fortress. Gallantly the English fought, but
they were no match for men imbued with divine ardour by the Maid.
Everywhere in the thick of battle the shining figure appeared,
encouraging and urging the men to greater efforts. Against the formidable
walls of the bastille the French hurled themselves with irresistible
fury. Back and forth the tide of battle surged; back and forth, for the
English made a desperate resistance. Back and forth until the vesper hour
when, with a mighty rush, the French carried the place by storm. St. Loup
was taken. Before the English camp on the west side could hurry
reinforcements around the walls the bastille was sacked, riddled, burned.
The English were cut off from Jargeau.
Dizzy with the first victory that had been theirs in years the soldiers
and burghers re-entered the city with banners flying, proudly displaying
the prisoners and captured munitions. And the city went wild over the
Maid who had wrought the miracle. La Hire, Dunois, Poton Zaintrailles,
Rais and Boussac were ready to follow wherever she might lead. The
citizens pressed upon her as she rode, adoring and worshipping. All the
bells in the city rang joyfully, and in the churches soldiers and
citizens alike "gave thanks to God by hymns and devout orisons." It was
Jeanne's first battle, and she wept as she prayed for those who had died
unshriven. As she rose from her confession she said to Father Pasquerel:
"In five days the city shall be delivered; but I shall be wounded on
Saturday, here." And she placed her hand upon a spot between her neck and
shoulder.
Thursday being the Feast of Ascension and a holy day there was no
fighting. To Jeanne, whose mission was a holy one, it seemed right that
the success of the day before should be followed up by an attack upon one
of the English fortresses, but the captains pleaded the sanctity of the
day, so none was made. But, while Jeanne confessed and took the
Sacrament, exhorting the soldiers to do likewise, the captains held a
Council at the house of the Chancellor of Orleans, Cousinot, taking care
that news of it should not come to Jeanne.
They decided that a feigned attack should be made upon the strong
bastille of St. Laurent, which stood just beyond the Regnart Gate on the
west side, which should draw off men from the forts beyond the river.
When this was done the main body of the French would attack the weakened
bastilles on the south bank and overcome them. The Maid, at the head of
the burghers, was to make the feint while the nobles and their levies
were to make the real assault across the Loire. But Jeanne was to be told
no word of their design lest she should reveal the intention to the
enemy.
When they had come to this conclusion Ambroise de Lore was sent to bring
the Maid to the Council, and when she came in answer to the summons,
Chancellor Cousinot himself told her they were to attack the great
fortress of St. Laurent, and that she was to lead the attack. But of
their real purpose he said no word. Jeanne's acuteness told her that
something was being withheld, but she said nothing until he had made an
end of the telling. Then she spoke quietly.
"What is it that you have really decided? Why do you fear to tell me what
it is? I can keep a greater secret than that."
"Jeanne, do not be angry," spoke Dunois. "We cannot tell you everything
at once. What the Chancellor has told you is true, but if the men in the
bastilles go to the aid of those in the great fort we intend to cross the
river, and fall upon them."
Jeanne professed herself satisfied, and so the matter rested. But no part
of the plan was carried out. That evening she made her last summons to
the English. Going to the end of the intact part of the bridge, where the
people of Orleans had erected a fort, she called across the water to the
English in the Tourelles, telling them that it was God's will that they
should withdraw from France.
"I shall write no more," she said as she fastened a letter to an arrow
and directed an archer to shoot it into the fortress. "I would have sent
this in more honourable fashion, but you keep my herald, Guienne. Return
him and I will return my prisoners taken at St. Loup."
"News from the Armagnac wench," shouted a soldier as he ran forward to
pick up the missive. "Cowgirl! Witch! Only let us catch you, and you
shall burn."
Jeanne could not keep back her tears as she heard these insults, but
calling the King of Heaven to her aid, she was soon comforted, and smiled
through her tears.
"I have tidings from Messire," she called back. "The English shall
depart, but you, Classidas, will not see it, for you will be dead.
Without stroke of sword shall you die."
The English hooted and jeered at these words, and hurled taunts and foul
epithets upon her, and having given her last summons Jeanne returned to
the city.
She rose early the next morning and confessed to Father Pasquerel, who
said mass for all the Household; then she set forth followed by her
personal attendants and a multitude of citizens who were in armed
readiness.
The secret that the true attack was to be made on the forts across the
river had somehow leaked out, but not through Jeanne. A number of
burghers had been present at the Council, and they had not approved of
the plan. When Jeanne appeared there was no word said about attacking the
great fort of St. Laurent, but with one accord all took a line of march
toward the eastern side of the city to the Burgundy Gate, which the
troops must pass through in order to cross to the south bank of the
river.
That the captains intended to carry out the design and make their assault
without Jeanne and the townspeople was evidenced when they reached the
gate. It was closed and guarded by De Gaucourt with some men-at-arms.
Angry murmurs arose as the people saw their former governor with his men
drawn up in formidable array, and Jeanne cried quickly:
"Gentle sir, in God's name, open the gate, and let us pass."
"I cannot, Jeanne," he said. "I have orders from the Council to keep it
closed, and closed it shall remain."
At this a shout went up from the citizens, and they moved toward him
threateningly. They were in no mood for interference.
"You are an evil man to prevent these people from going," cried Jeanne.
"But whether you will or no, the men shall go, and they shall prevail as
before."
Gaucourt hesitated. As he glanced at the stern faces of the citizens, who
were determined to fight their way through, if necessary, he saw that he
stood in peril of his life. With the ready wit of a soldier he threw wide
the gate, crying:
"Come on, I will be your captain!" And the people rushed through.
Just above the bridge of Orleans there was a broad island, called St.
Aignan, lying quite close to the south bank of the river, with a narrow
swift passage of water between it and the shore. A little higher up the
Loire, on the left side, stood the small fort of St. Jean le Blanc, which
the English had built to guard the road. The plan of the captains was to
cross by boat to the island, and thence by a bridge of planks laid on
boats to the southern shore, and so make an assault on St. Jean le Blanc.
It would be a task of some hours to bring troops, horses, and artillery,
so the townsfolk being lightly encumbered crossed first. When the English
captain of the bastille saw the boats put out he abandoned the post, and
retired to the Bastille of St. Augustins, opposite the Tourelles. When
the townspeople found the post undefended they were wild with enthusiasm,
and, without waiting for Jeanne, marched on at once to Les Augustins,
and attacked it. They were no match for the disciplined English, who
rushed out to fall on them. Instantly the old dread fell upon the
citizens, and they became panic-stricken, fleeing in a disorganized
rabble before the enemy, while De Gaucourt, their old governor, covered
their retreat gallantly. Slashing, slaying, and hurling taunts and gibes
at the routed French the English came on a run.
At this moment Jeanne and La Hire, who had been having difficulty with
the horses in getting them across the improvised bridge, reached the
shore. Seeing the rout of the French they mounted hastily, and then these
two, the Maid with her banner, La Hire with lance at rest, charged the
English. The English turned and fled incontinently at sight of the white
figure on the white horse. The fleeing townsfolk rallied, turned, and
following the men-at-arms, who had succeeded in crossing by this time,
went after the Maid and the valiant La Hire, and chased the English back
into their works.
Swiftly following Jeanne planted her standard under the fort of the
Augustins, in the moat, and the assault begun. The English fought
bravely, and again the French were repulsed. And Jeanne was everywhere,
inciting the men to greater deeds by her inspiriting cry. At length the
rest of the main body of troops came up with the artillery, and the
assault redoubled in vigour.
The enthusiasm was with the French. Onset after onset was made. Knights
vied with each other in feats of valour. A giant Englishman who gallantly
defended the open gate was presently shot down by Jean the Lorraine
gunner, and instantly Jeanne's clear, girlish voice rang out:
"Enter! Enter boldly! They are ours."
In a terrible onslaught the French rushed in upon the defenders. A few of
the English escaped to the boulevard of Les Tourelles, an earthwork
connected by a drawbridge with the pier upon which the Tourelles stood;
the rest were slain or taken. Great deeds at arms had been performed on
both sides, and the victory was hard bought, but the Bastille of St.
Augustins was taken. The sun was setting, and setting also was the glory
of England in France. Verily God was speaking through His Maid.