_THE DELIVERY OF ORLEANS._
It will be now necessary to go back in our story to the commencement
of the siege by the English of the town of Orleans, in order to
understand the work which Joan of Arc had promised to accomplish.
Orleans was the place of the utmost importance; not merely as being
the second city in France, but as forming the 'tête du pont' for the
passage of the river Loire. The French knew that were it to fall into
the hands of the English the whole of France would soon become subject
to the enemy.
The town was strongly fortified; huge towers of immense thickness, and
three stories in height, surrounded by deep and wide moats, encircled
the city. The only bridge then in existence was also strongly defended
with towers, called 'Les Tournelles,' while at the end of the town
side of the bridge were large 'bastilles,' powerful fortresses which
dated from the year 1417, when Henry V. threatened Orleans after his
triumphal march through Normandy. In 1421 the Orleanists defied the
victor of Agincourt: again they were in the agony of a desperate
defence against their invaders, ready to sustain all the horrors of a
siege.
Equally keen and determined were the English leaders to take Orleans,
which they rightly considered as the key of what remained unconquered
to them in France. Both countries looked anxiously on as the siege
progressed. Salisbury commanded the English; he had been up to this
point successful in taking all the places of importance in the
neighbourhood of Orleans, and that portion of the valley of the Loire
was commanded by his forces, both above and below Orleans.
On the approach of the enemy, the inhabitants of Orleans turned out to
strengthen the outer fortifications, and to place cannon and catapults
on the walls and ramparts. The priests on this occasion worked as hard
as the other citizens, and even the women and children helped with a
will.
Besides Dunois, who commanded the besieged garrison, was Raoul de
Gaucourt, who had defended Harfleur in 1415; he had but recently
returned from imprisonment in England, and was burning to avenge his
captivity. La Hire, Xaintrailles, Coulant, Coaraze, and Armagnac were
among the defenders of Orleans. Many Gascons belonging to the
Marshal-Saint Sévère and soldiers from Brittany helped to swell the
forces of the besieged.
It was on the 12th day of October (1428) that Salisbury crossed the
Loire and established his besieging force at the village of Portereau,
in front of the strongly defended bridge. In the meanwhile the
besieged had razed the houses and the convent of St. Augustin, in
order to prevent the enemy from entrenching themselves so near the
city gates. Salisbury, however, threw up fortifications on the site of
St. Augustin's, and placed a battery of guns opposite to the bridge
and its 'bastilles,' whence he was able to bombard the town with huge
stones. The English also placed mines below the bridge and the
fortresses of the Tournelles.
On the 21st, an assault was made on the bridge and its defences, which
was vigorously repulsed; the whole population were in arms, and manned
the walls; the women fought by the side of their husbands and
brothers. After a severe fight of four hours, the besiegers were
forced to withdraw.
The Tournelles were now mined and counter-mined, and were soon found
to be untenable. The besieged then abandoned this fortification, and
retired further back towards the centre of the bridge, which, as well
as its approaches, was defended by towers. Part of the bridge on the
side near the English was blown up, and a drawbridge, which could be
raised or lowered at pleasure, was thrown across the open space.
Salisbury was satisfied with the result of that day's fighting, for he
knew that, once he had the command of the northern side of the tower,
he could take it when necessary from that quarter. What he aimed at
for the present was to prevent all communication between the town and
the south of France. Holding the bridge, he could prevent relief from
coming to the city, and when the moment arrived he would be able to
throw his men with certain success upon it from the northern side.
The evening of the day in which he had made so successful an attack,
Salisbury mounted into the Tournelles in order to inspect thence the
city which lay beneath him. While gazing on it, a stray cannon shot
struck him on the face; he was carried, mortally wounded, from the
place. That fatal shot was said to have been fired by a lad, who,
finding a loaded cannon on the ramparts, had discharged it. For the
English, it was the deadliest shot of the whole war.
Readers of Shakespeare will remember that, in the first part of _Henry
VI._, the Master Gunner (no doubt that very 'Maître Jean' whose fame
was great in the besieged town) and his boy are introduced on the
scene, and that the boy fires the shot which proved fatal both to
Salisbury and Sir Thomas Gargrave. The prominent place given to this
French Master Gunner in the English play shows what a high reputation
Maître Jean must have had, even among the English, at the siege.
Salisbury's death, occurring a few days after he received the wound,
caused the siege to languish. Glansdale succeeded Salisbury in the
command; but it was not until the doughty Talbot and Lord Scales
appeared on the scene that siege operations recommenced with vigour.
The great pounding match then began again; the huge stone shot of the
English, which weighed one hundred and sixty-four livres, came
tumbling about the heads of the besieged, to which cannonade the
French promptly replied by a heavy fire. They had a kind of bomb, of
which they were not a little proud, wherefrom they fired iron shot of
one hundred and twenty livres in weight. The Master of Gunners of
Shakespeare's play, whose name was John de Monsteschère, made also
extraordinary practice with his culverin; and he could pick off marked
men in the Tournelles, as, for the misfortune of the English, had been
proved in the case of Salisbury. At times Master John would sham dead,
and, just as the English were congratulating themselves on his demise,
would reappear, and again use his culverin with deadly effect.
On the last day but one of the year (1428), the English had been
reinforced, and were now commanded by William de la Pole, Earl, and
afterwards Duke of Suffolk, under whose command acted Suffolk's
brother, John de la Pole, Lord Scales, and Lancelot de Lisle. In order
to maintain touch with his troops posted at the Tournelles, Suffolk
threw up flanking batteries on the northern side of the town. To
Suffolk's already large force Sir John Fastolfe brought a force of
twelve hundred men, in the month of January (1429).
The number of troops mustered by the besieged and besiegers was as
follows:--
On the side of the English, there were quartered at the Tournelles
five hundred men, under the command of Glansdale; three hundred under
Talbot; twelve hundred with Fastolfe. Including those who had come
with Suffolk at the commencement of the siege, the English force
amounted to four thousand five hundred men.
On the side of the besieged, excluding the armed citizens, who were
from three to four thousand strong, was a garrison numbering between
six and seven hundred men; also some thousand soldiers had been thrown
into the city between the middle of October 1428 and the January
following.
Both in strength of position, and as regards the number of their
troops, the French had the advantage. The comparative weakness of the
English force--which, all told, could only count about four thousand
men to carry on the siege--is to be accounted for by the garrisons
which were left in the conquered places over the north and south of
the country.
The siege was weakly conducted during the winter--a series of
skirmishes from the bastilles or towers thrown up by the besiegers led
to little result on either side; and it was not till the month of
February that a decisive engagement took place.
Near Rouvray a battle was fought, which is known by the singular
appellation of the Battle of the Herrings, from the circumstance that,
at that Lenten season, a huge convoy of fish was being taken from the
coast to Paris. In the fight, the fish-laden barrels were overthrown,
and their contents scattered over the field; whence the name of the
Battle of the Herrings. During this engagement, in which the French
were defeated, fell, on the side of the French, two noble Scots--John
Stuart, the Constable of Scotland, and his brother William.
After this action, the position of the besieged in Orleans became more
perilous, and the citizens, despairing of help coming to them from
Charles, were inclined to call in aid from the Duke of Burgundy. The
east, north, and west of the city were covered by the bastilles or
huge towers which the besiegers had thrown up, and from which they
could bombard the place; and the pressure on the devoted city waxed
ever stronger. By the month of April, Orleans was girdled by a chain
of fortresses, from which the cannonade was incessant. The English
gave names of French towns to these huge towers which threatened
Orleans on every side; one they named Paris, another Rouen, and one
other they called London.
The thirty thousand men, women, and children within the city walls
were now beginning to suffer from the horrors of a long siege. In the
town disturbances broke out, and the cry of treachery was heard--that
sure precursor of the fears of the strong that the hardships of the
siege would undermine the patriotism of their weaker citizens. But
when things seemed at their worst, succour was near at hand.
During those winter months the Queen-mother, who had warmly interested
herself in Joan of Arc's mission, had, in the Castle of Blois, been
collecting troops and securing the services of some notable officers,
including the Duke of Alençon. Towards the end of April Joan arrived
at Blois from Poitiers, accompanied by the Archbishop of Rheims,
Regnault de Chartres. On the 27th of April she left Blois on her first
warlike expedition.
No certain account of the numbers of troops which accompanied the Maid
has been kept. Monstrelet gives the numbers at seven thousand; but
Joan, during her trial, asserted that she had between ten and twelve
thousand men committed to her charge by the King. Joan's historian, M.
Wallon, points out that this may be an incorrect entry made in the
interest of the English at the trial, as they naturally would wish the
relieving force to appear as large as possible. It has even been
placed as low as three thousand. Among the officers who accompanied
the Maid was a Gascon knight, named La Hire, half freebooter, half
condottiere, a brave and reckless soldier, of whom it is recorded
that, before making a raid, he would offer up the following prayer:--
'I pray my God to do for La Hire what La Hire would do for Him, if He
were Captain and La Hire was God.'
From having been a mighty swearer, owing to Joan of Arc's influence La
Hire broke off this habit, but, in order to give him some scope for
venting his temper, Joan allowed him to swear by his stick.
These are but trivial details: still, they are of interest as showing
what influence a simple village maiden like Joan was able to exert on
those who, from their position and habits of life, might have been
thought to be the last to tolerate such interference. So changed, it
is said, had this rough warrior, La Hire, and many of his
fellow-soldiers become in their habits while with the Maid, that they
were happy to be able to kneel by the side of the sainted maiden and
partake in her Lord's Sacrament of the Eucharist; and then to confess
themselves to her good father confessor, Peton de Xaintrailles, the
Marshal de Boussac, and the Seigneur de Rais.
Joan had the following letter despatched to the Duke of Bedford:--
'In the name of Jesus and Mary--You, King of England; and you, Duke of
Bedford [Bethfort], who call yourself Regent of France; you, William
de la Pole; you, Earl of Suffolk; you, John Lord Talbot [Thalebot];
and you, Thomas Lord Scales, who call yourselves Lieutenants of the
said Bedford, in the name of the King of Heaven, render the keys of
all the good towns which you have taken and violated in France, to the
Maid sent hither by the King of Heaven. She is ready to make peace if
you will consent to return and to pay for what you have taken. And all
of you, soldiers, and archers, and men-at-arms, now before Orleans,
return to your country, in God's name. If this is not done, King of
England, I, as a leader in war, whenever I shall meet with your people
in France, will oblige them to go whether they be willing or not; and
if they go not, they will perish; but if they will depart I will
pardon them. I have come from the King of Heaven to drive you out
[_bouter_] of France. And do not imagine that you will ever
permanently hold France, for the true heir, King Charles, shall
possess it, for it is God's wish that it should belong to him. And
this has been revealed to him by the Maid, who will enter Paris. If
you will not obey, we shall make such a stir [_ferons un si gros
hahaye_] as hath not happened these thousand years in France. The Maid
and her soldiers will have the victory. Therefore the Maid is willing
that you, Duke of Bedford, should not destroy yourself.'
And Joan finishes this strange effusion by proposing to Bedford that
they should combine in making a holy war for Christianity!
This letter, written 'in the name of the Maid,' was dated on a Tuesday
in Holy Week. The address ran thus: 'To the Duke of Bedford, so called
Regent of the Kingdom of France, or to his Lieutenants, now before the
town of Orleans.'
Doubtless the reference to the deed of arms which, once again at peace
together, might be accomplished by the combined English and French
armies, was an idea which seems to have floated in Joan's enthusiastic
imagination, that the day might come when the two foremost nations in
Christendom would fight together for the recovery of the Holy
Sepulchre.
As might be expected, this letter was received by the English with
gibes and jeers, which was pardonable; but what was not so was the
bad treatment of the messenger who had brought it to the English
camp. He was kept prisoner, and, if some rather doubtful French
writers of the day are to be believed, it was seriously debated
whether or not he should be burnt. Let us trust this is but an
invention of the enemy.
Joan, before leaving Blois, insisted on the dismissal of all camp
followers--such bad baggage was certainly well left behind, and could
not have followed an army led by one who, night and morning, had an
altar erected, around which her hallowed flags were placed, and where
the Maid, and those willing, took the Sacrament at the head of the
army. It must have been a striking sight during that spring-time--that
army, led by a maiden all clad in white armour, and mounted on a black
charger, surrounded by a brilliant band of knights, riding along the
pleasant fields of Touraine, then in their first livery of brilliant
green. And a striking sight it must have been, when, at the close of
the long day's march, the tents were pitched and the altar raised, the
officiating priests grouped about it and the sacred pictured standards
waving above, while the solemn chant was raised, and the soldiers
knelt around.
One can well think how ready were those soldiers to follow Joan
wherever she would lead them, and it is not improbable that such a
crusade as she dreamt of, had it been possible, in which the two
nations, so closely connected by religious feeling, and so closely
united by position, but so long enemies owing to the rapacity and
greed of their kings, might have again placed the cross on the
battlements of the Holy City, under the leadership of her whom her
countrymen rightly called 'The Angelic.'
Joan rode out of Blois bearing her pennon in her hand, and as she rode
she chanted the '_Veni Creator_.' The sacred strain was taken up by
those who followed, and thus passed the Maid forth on her first great
deed of deliverance.
During the whole of the first night Joan remained, as was her custom
when she had no women about her, in her armour.
It was the Maid's wish to enter Orleans from the northern side, but
the officers with her thought this would be a great imprudence, and
followed the opposite bank of the river. Passing through Beaugency and
Meung, they went on by Saint Die, Saint Laurent, and Clery, without
meeting with any attack from the enemy who occupied these places. On
arriving at a place called Olivet, they were within the neighbourhood
of the beleaguered city. Below them rose the English bastille towers;
beyond, the walls, towers, and steeples of Orleans.
Joan had hoped that the city could have been entered without further
difficulty; she now found that not only the river lay between her and
the town, but that the English were in force on all sides. She wished
that the nearest of these bastilles, at Saint Jean le Blanc, should be
stormed, and the river forded there; but this scheme was judged by her
companions-in-arms to be too perilous, and Joan had again to comply
with the opinion of the officers.
Riding to the eastwards, and skirting the river some four miles below
the town, she and her knights forded it at a spot where some low long
islands, or 'eyots' as we call them on the Thames, lay in this part of
the Loire. On one of these, called l'Isle aux Bourdons, the provisions
and stores for the beleaguered city were shipped and transhipped, and
carried down to Orleans when the wind lay in that quarter.
It was at Reuilly that Dunois met the Maid, still chafing from her
thwarted plan of attacking the English in their stronghold at Saint
Jean le Blanc, and she appears to have shown him her displeasure.
While this interview took place the wind changed, and the provision
boats, which, owing to the wind being contrary, had not been able to
make the islands, were now enabled to leave the city. They soon
arrived, were laden with provisions, corn, and even cattle embarked on
them, and, when thus provisioned, returned to Orleans by the canal on
the left bank of the Loire, and successfully arrived at the city end
of the broken bridge, whence the provisions and live stock were passed
into the town.
The river was too much in flood to allow of the army being taken
across, nor could a bridge of boats be made, owing to the height of
the waters. Joan, however, was determined to enter Orleans, flood or
no flood, for she knew what the moral effect of her appearing to the
townspeople would be. Accompanied by Dunois, La Hire, and some two
hundred lances, just after darkness had hidden her movements from the
enemy, she left Reuilly and entered the city.
Preceded by a great banner, the Maid of Orleans, as she may now be
called, with Dunois by her side, and followed by her knights and
men-at-arms, rode slowly through the streets, filled with a crowd
almost delirious in its joy at welcoming within its walls its
long-looked-for Deliverer. The people clung to her, kissing her knees
and feet, and, according to the old chroniclers, behaved as if God
Himself had appeared among them. So eager was the throng to approach
her, that in the press one of her standards was set on fire by a
flambeau. After returning thanks for the delivery of her countrymen in
the cathedral, Joan was made welcome at the house of the treasurer of
the imprisoned Duke of Orleans. This citizen's name was James Boucher;
and here she lodged, with her brothers, and the two faithful knights
who had accompanied her during her journey from Vaucouleurs to Chinon.
A vaulted room in this house is still shown, which purports to have
been that occupied by the Maid of Orleans. If it is the same building
it has been much modernised, although a beautiful specimen of the
domestic Gothic of the early part of the fifteenth century, known as
the house of Agnes Sorel, remains much in the condition that it must
have been in during the famous year of deliverance, 1429.
Although Orleans, by the action of Joan of Arc, had been succoured for
the time, the enemy was still at its gates, and Joan's mission was but
half accomplished. The aspect of affairs since the 29th of April was,
however, greatly changed in favour of the French, and the _rôles_ of
besieged and besiegers changed. Joan's arrival had infused a fresh
spirit of enthusiasm and patriotism into the citizens, and the English
were no longer feared. We have Dunois's authority for the fact that
whereas, up to that time, two hundred English could put eight hundred
French to the rout, now five hundred French soldiers were prepared to
meet the entire English army.
On the 13th of April, hostilities had recommenced. Four hundred men,
commanded by Florent d'Illiers, made a sortie against the English near
the trenches at Saint Pouair, driving them into their quarters. But
the success was not followed up, and appears to have been undertaken
without Joan of Arc's advice. To the heralds that she sent into the
English camp only jeers and taunts were returned; and already the
threat of burning her when caught was made use of. Joan was, however,
not to be deterred by menaces and insults from doing all she could to
prevent unnecessary loss of life. On one occasion she rode out
half-way across the bridge, to where there stood a crucifix called La
Belle Croix, within speaking distance of the English in the
Tournelles. Thence she summoned Glansdale and his men to surrender,
promising that their lives should be spared. They answered with
derisive shouts and villainous abuse. Still commanding her patience,
which was only equalled by her courage, and before returning to the
town, she told them that, in spite of their boasting, the time was
near at hand when they would be driven forth, and that their leader
would never see England again. That they feared the Maid was evident,
in spite of the insults with which they greeted her; at any rate, no
attempt was made to attack her: even when almost alone, she came close
to their fortifications.
Meanwhile Dunois left for Blois to bring up the bulk of the army,
while Joan remained in Orleans, encouraging its inhabitants by her
confidence, faith, and courage. The people, writes the chronicler of
the siege, were never sated with the sight of the Maid: 'ils ne
pouvaient saouler de la voir,' he graphically says.
A second ineffectual effort was made by Joan, this time at a place
called the Croix Morin, to negotiate with the English, she again
promising them quarter if they would capitulate, but, as might be
expected, with no better result than before.
On the 2nd of May, followed by a vast throng, Joan of Arc rode out
along the enemy's forts, and after closely inspecting their defences
returned to vespers at the Church of Sainte-Croix. Certainly among the
people there was no want of belief in, and enthusiastic devotion to,
the Maid; but she had already enemies among the _entourage_ of the
King. We have already alluded to Tremoïlle's feelings with regard to
her and her mission. A still more formidable enemy was the Chancellor
of France, the Archbishop of Rheims, Regnault de Chartres; he and
Tremoïlle worked in concert to undermine all the prestige which Joan's
success in revictualling Orleans had caused at Court. The historian
Quicherat, whose work on Joan of Arc is by far the most complete and
reliable, considers this man to have been an astute politician,
without any moral strength or courage. When with Joan of Arc, he seems
to have shown firmness and even enthusiasm in her mission, but he sank
into the _rôle_ of a poltroon when her influence was withdrawn.
Instead of hastening the despatch of the reinforcements from Blois to
Orleans, he threw delay in the way; he seems to have hesitated in
letting these troops join those under the Maid, for fear that were she
to gain a thorough success his influence at Court would be weakened.
When Joan fell into the hands of her foes, the Archbishop had the
incredible baseness publicly to show his pleasure, declaring that her
capture by the enemy was a proof of Divine justice.
It was not till the 4th of May, and not until Dunois had ridden in hot
haste from Blois, that at length the aid, so long and eagerly
expected, arrived.
Joan rode to meet the succouring army some two miles out of the city,
bearing her flag, accompanied by La Hire and others of her knights.
After a joyful meeting, they turned, riding right through the enemy's
lines and along the fortified bastilles occupied by the English.
Whether it was fear, or superstition mixed with fear, not a man from
the English side stirred, although the English outnumbered the French.
It seemed that a terror had seized on the enemy as they saw her, whom
they called the Sorceress, ride by in her white panoply, bearing aloft
her mystic banner.
The English had now run short of supplies, and eagerly awaited the
arrival of Sir John Fastolfe, who was on his road to Orleans. Joan of
Arc felt uneasy, lest she might not be able to cut off Fastolfe and
his supplies, and she playfully threatened Dunois with his instant
execution if he failed to tell her of the moment he learnt of his
approach. Her anxiety was well founded, for the attack commenced
before she had been apprised of it. She had lain down for a short
repose one afternoon, when she heard the sounds of a cannonade. She
instantly ordered her squire d'Aulon to arm her, as she must
immediately attack the English; but whether those at the Tournelles,
or the advancing force under Fastolfe, she could not yet tell.
While arming, a great clamour rang through the town: the enemy were
said to be at hand, and the battle already engaged. Hastily throwing
on her armour, with the assistance of her hostess and d'Aulon, she
dashed off on her horse, and had only time to snatch her flag, as it
was handed to her from a window, so impetuous was she to enter the
fray.
As she galloped down the street the sparks flew from the stones,
through the High Street and past the cathedral, and out by the
Burgundy Gate. The action had already been raging, and the wounded
were being borne back into the town. It was the first time the Maid
came face to face with such grisly sights--the agony of the wounded,
the blood and gaping wounds. Her squire, d'Aulon, who has left some
record of that day, says how much she grieved over the wounded as they
were carried past her; her beloved countrymen bleeding and dying
affected her deeply. As her page writes, she said she could not see
French blood without her hair rising with horror at the sight.
Before she reached the field the day had been lost and won, the
English were in full retreat, and the battle now lay around the
bastilles of Saint Loup. About a mile to the north-east of the town
were the Englishmen; strongly entrenched, the place commanded that
portion of the river which Talbot had garrisoned with some three
hundred of his best troops. Joan now gave instructions that no aid
should reach this portion of the English defences from the adjacent
bastilles. All around the fight raged, and Joan was soon in the
hottest of the engagement, encouraging her soldiers, her flag in her
hand. Dismounting, she stood on the edge of the earthwork, beyond
which the English were at bay.
Talbot, seeing his men hard pressed, gave orders for a sortie to be
made from one of the other towers, named Paris, and thus cause a
diversion, while another force attacked the French in their rear. This
expedient, however, failed, for a fresh force appeared at this
juncture from Orleans, led by Boussac and De Graville, who beat back
the attack of the English. The English troops within the fortress of
Saint Loup were slain or taken. Joan herself rescued some of these,
and placed them under her protection; caring for them in the house she
was staying in.
At the close of the day, on returning into the town, Joan told the
people that they might count on being free from the enemy in five
days' time, and that by that time not a single Englishman would remain
before Orleans. No wonder that the joy-bells rang out in victorious
clamour during all that night in May, the eve of the Ascension.
On the following day no hostilities occurred. Joan again had a letter
sent to the English, summoning them as before to surrender and to quit
their forts; she said this was the third and the last time that she
could give them a chance of escaping with their lives. On this
occasion she made use of a new way of communicating with the foe; she
tied the letter to an arrow, which was discharged into the English
lines. No answer was received in return.
It was now determined that the next attack against the English should
be made from the left bank of the river, where they were strongly
fortified at the Bastille des Augustins, a little further down the
Loire than the Tournelles. On the opposite side this fortress
communicated with the Boulevard of Saint Privé, as well as with the
strong fortress of Saint Laurent, near which a small island, which
exists no longer, called the Isle of Charlemagne, kept open their
connections on both sides of the Loire. To the east, on the same side
of the river, a fortress, that of Saint Jean le Blanc, which had been
abandoned on the approach of Joan, had since been reoccupied by the
English. It was at this spot that the next and all-important attack
was directed to be made.
The French forces crossed the river over an island called Saint
Aignan. The distance was so narrow between the river bank on the town
side and this island, that a couple of boats moored together served as
a bridge. When Saint Jean le Blanc was reached, it was found deserted
by the English, Glansdale having left it in order to concentrate his
forces at the Tournelles. Joan led the attack. At first the French
fought badly; they had been seized by a panic, believing that a strong
force of the enemy were coming down on them from Saint Privé. Rallying
her men, Joan threw herself on the English, and drove them back into
the Augustins. She was now eagerly followed by the soldiers.
The first barricade was carried in a hand-to-hand fight, and soon the
French flags waved above the fortress so long held by the enemy. The
few English able to escape retired to the Tournelles. Eager to carry
on the success of the attack, and to prevent delay, Joan ordered that
the fort of the Augustins be fired, with the booty it contained.
The victors, who only numbered three thousand strong, captured six
hundred prisoners, one third were slain of the English, and two
hundred French prisoners recovered.
This was the second occasion on which the Maid had carried all before
her.
The day was closing, and the attack on the Tournelles had to be
deferred for that evening. That night Joan of Arc said to her almoner:
'Rise early to-morrow, for we shall have a hard day's work before us.
Keep close to me, for I shall have much to do, more than I have ever
had to do yet. I shall be wounded; my blood will flow!'
This prophetic speech of the Maid is among the most curious facts
relating to her life; for not only did she, during her trial at Rouen,
tell her judges that she had been aware that she would be wounded on
that day, and even knew the position beforehand of the wound, but that
she had known it would occur a long time before, and had told the King
about it. A letter is extant in the Public Library at Brussels,
written on the 22nd of April (1429), by the Sire de Rotslaer, dated
from Lyons, in which Joan's prophecy regarding her wound is mentioned.
This letter was written fifteen days before the date (7th of May) of
the engagement when that event occurred. A facsimile of the passage in
this letter referring to Joan's prophecy appears in the illustrated
edition of M. Wallon's _Life of Joan of Arc_.
Very early on the following day, Saturday, the 7th of May, it appears
that an attempt was made to prevent the Maid from starting for the
field, as, at a council held on the evening before by the officers, it
had been considered more prudent, before renewing the attack on the
English fortifications, to await fresh reinforcements from the King.
When this was reported to Joan, she said: 'You have taken your
counsel, and I have received mine,' and at break of day she was ready,
armed and prepared for the attack. Before starting, her host wished
her to eat some fish, an 'alose,' which had just been brought to him.
'Keep it,' said Joan with a smile, 'till the evening, and I will bring
with me a "Godon" who will, eat his share of it.' This sobriquet of
'Godon' was evidently the generic term for the English, as far back as
the early years of the fifteenth century, and may have been centuries
before the French designation for our countrymen.
Thus, full of spirits and with a brave heart, the Maid rode off to
meet the foe. When she reached the gate called Burgundy, she found it
closed by order of De Gaucourt, Grand Master of the King's Household,
who had done so at the instigation of those officers who wished the
attack on the English deferred until fresh reinforcements arrived.
But the Maid was not to be beaten and kept back even by barred gates.
'You are doing a bad deed,' she indignantly said to those about the
gate, 'and whether you wish it or not, my soldiers shall pass.'
The gate was opened, and Joan, followed by her men, galloped to where
some troops who had been left in possession of the fortifications
taken on the previous day were stationed. The attack on the Tournelles
commenced as soon as Joan arrived--it was then between six and seven
in the morning. Meanwhile Dunois, La Hire, and the principal forces
from the town came up. A desperate struggle ensued; both sides knew
that, whatever the result, that day would decide the fate of
Orleans--even that of the war.
The French were fighting under the eyes of their countrymen, who
manned the walls, and under the guidance of a leader they already
regarded as more than human--and never had they fought so well, during
that long and bloody century of warfare, as they did on that day.
The English, on the other hand, knew that if they were beaten out of
the Tournelles their defeat would be complete, and they too fought
with desperate courage.
Down into the ditches rushed the French, and up the sides of the
glacis; scaling-ladders were placed against the walls, to which the
men upon them clung like a swarm of bees. The defenders met them with
showers of arrows and shot, and hurled them back with lance and
hatchets. Constantly beaten back, they returned as constantly to the
charge. For six hours this fight lasted, and weariness and
discouragement fell on the French. Joan, who had been all these hours
in the thick of the engagement, seeing her men were losing heart,
redoubled her efforts; and, helping to raise a scaling-ladder, she
placed it against the parapet of one of the towers. While thus engaged
she was struck by a bolt from a cross-bow, between her shoulder and
neck. The wound was a severe one; she fell, and was carried out of the
press. Although she suffered acutely, she had the nerve to draw the
arrow from the wound. She refused to have the wound 'charmed,' as some
of those standing around her suggested, saying she would sooner die
than do anything that might be displeasing in the sight of Heaven. A
compress, steeped in oil, was then applied, and it staunched the
bleeding. She was faint and unnerved, and, as she seemed to feel her
death was near, made her confession to her priest.
Still the Tournelles held out in spite of these repeated attacks, and
Dunois, as the shadows lengthened, was on the point of calling back
his forces and sounding the retreat. Joan, in the meanwhile, had been
withdrawn from the fighting, and placed in a meadow at some distance
from the carnage; but when she heard that the troops were about to be
recalled from their attack on the Tournelles, she seemed to forget
her wound, and, making her way to Dunois, implored him not to give up
the fight. She assured him that she was certain they would even yet be
victorious. In a few stirring sentences she rallied the men to fresh
efforts, and told them that now or never would they conquer; the
English, she declared, could not hold out much longer. Mounting her
horse, and with flag unfurled, she again led the van; to those near
her she said, 'Watch my standard; when it reaches the walls the place
will be ours.'
The struggle that ensued was fierce and decisive. Inspired by the
valour of Joan, the French, who appeared as fresh as before her wound,
stormed the bastions and towers of the Tournelles with tremendous
energy. Reinforcements had meanwhile arrived from the town, and these
attacked the Tournelles in the rear. Passing over the broken arches of
the bridge by means of ladders thrown across the masonry, the first
man to reach the other bank was a knight of Rhodes, Nicolas de
Giresme. Attacked from two sides, the English still held the
Tournelles with bull-dog tenacity; but the sight of the witch and
sorceress, as they considered Joan, and who they thought had met with
a mortal hurt, leading the soldiers with unabated courage, caused a
panic to spread through their ranks; and when a sudden shout of
victory proclaimed that the white and golden banner had at length
struck the walls of the fortress, the doom of the Tournelles had
arrived.
Clear above the din of battle rang out the triumphant voice of the
Maid: 'The victory is ours!' she cried.
Seeing the day was lost, the English now attempted to escape
destruction by swimming the river; others threw themselves on a
bridge, which, however, having been set on fire by the French, only
caused those who hoped to cross to fall either into the flames or into
the river below.
Glansdale, the English leader, who had grossly insulted Joan but a few
days before, was among those who were drowning in the Loire. Seeing
his peril, Joan of Arc attempted to save him, but Glansdale was swept,
before her aid could reach him, down the stream, never more to return
to his own land again, as Joan had prophesied.
Five hundred English perished either in the Tournelles or were drowned
in attempting to escape; the rest were made prisoners by the French.
Darkness had now fallen, and although Joan had been taking part in the
battle for more than a dozen hours, and had besides been grievously
hurt, she would not leave the field till late in the night, in case
the English at the Bastille of Saint Laurent should be inclined to
avenge the fall of the Tournelles, and the victory over their
comrades. But for that day, at all events, the English had had enough
of fighting: 'ils n'en avaient une vouloir' for more, as the old
chronicler quaintly expresses himself.
Riding back across the bridge which the citizens had in the meanwhile
partially restored, Joan re-entered the city which her splendid
courage had rescued from the English. 'God knows,' writes Perceval de
Cagny, 'with what joy she was received'; and our English historian of
those days, Hall, has left the following graphic account of the joy
that went out from the people of Orleans to their saviour:--
'After the siege was thus broken up, to tell you what triumphs were
made in the city of Orleans, what wood was spent in fire, what wine
was drunk in houses, what songs were sung in the streets, what melody
was made in taverns, what rounds were danced in large and broad
places, what lights were set up in the churches, what anthems were
sung in chapels, and what joy was showed in every place--it were a
long work, and yet no necessary cause. For they did as we in like case
would have done; and we, being in like estate, would have done as they
did.'
All that day Joan of Arc had eaten nothing, and her strength must have
been more than mortal to have sustained the heat, fatigue, and, above
all, the anguish of her wound. At length she was able to find some
repose with her kind hosts, and, after taking a little bread dipped in
wine, she retired to enjoy her well-earned rest.
Orleans was now delivered, as the citizens found on waking the next
morning after the battle, when the joyful news spread through the
town that the English had abandoned the bastilles on the northern side
of the city, leaving all their sick, stores, artillery, and
ammunition. That day Lord Talbot must have used expressions probably
not as poetical as those put into his mouth in the play of _Henry
VI._; but doubtless far more forcible--for it was now that he, for the
first time, felt the bitterness of defeat, the shame of turning his
back on his enemy; that enemy whom, until now, he had, after so many
victories, almost grown to despise.
'My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel;
I know not where I am, nor what I do:
A witch, by fear, not force, like Hannibal,
Drives back our troops, and conquers as she lists.'
But although retire he had to, Talbot's retreat was made in perfect
order, and in a kind of defiant fashion. Ranging his forces near to
and facing the town, he seemed inclined to make a further stand, if
not to carry out an attack against the city. Joan was prepared to
repel such an attack, but the English contented themselves with a mere
feint, a military demonstration.
The day was a Sunday, and Joan, ever loath to fight on that day,
refused to give the signal for attack, saying that if the enemy chose
to begin an engagement they would be met and defeated; but that she
could not sanction fighting on that holy day. Prepared for whatever
might occur, the Maid of Orleans then ordered that Mass should be
said at the head of her troops.
When the religious act was over:
'Look,' she said, 'whether the English have their faces or their backs
turned to us.'
And when she heard that they were in full retreat on Mehun-sur-Loire,
she added, 'Let them depart, in God's name: it is not His wish that
you should attack them to-day, and you will meet them again.'
After an hour's halt, the English continued to retreat, previously
setting fire to their bastilles, and carrying their prisoners with
them.
The day that saw the deliverance of Orleans was held for centuries as
a national day of rejoicing in the town, and seldom have the citizens
of any place had better cause for celebrating so joyful and honourable
an event. The siege which Joan had thus brought to an end began on the
12th of October (1428), and ended on the 8th of May (1429). Ten days
had sufficed for the heroic Maid to raise the English blockade.
Throughout France the effect of the news of the deliverance of Orleans
was prodigious; and although most of the English, no doubt, believed
that the result was owing to the instrumentality of the powers of
darkness, many saw in it the finger of God.
When the great news reached Paris on the 10th of May, Fauconbridge, a
clerk of Parliament, made the following note in his register:--'Quis
eventus fuerit novit Deus bellorum'; and on the margin of the
register he has traced a little profile sketch of a woman in armour,
holding in her right hand a pennon on which are inscribed the letters
I.H.S. In the other hand she holds a sword. This parchment may still
be seen in the National Archives in Paris.
Joan, having accomplished her undertaking, lost no time in returning
to the King at Chinon.