They were on the wrong side of the Loire, opposite St. Loup, where the
English held a strong fort.[14] 'I did not think, and the other generals
did not think,' says Dunois, 'that the men-at-arms with the Maid were a
strong enough force to bring the provisions into the town. Above all, it
was difficult to get boats and ferry over the supplies, for both wind
and stream were dead against us. Then Joan spoke to me thus:
[Illustration: 'Then spurred she her horse . . . and put out the flame']
'"Are you the Bastard of Orleans?"
'"That am I, and glad of your coming."
'"Is it you who gave counsel that I should come hither by that bank of
the stream, and not go straight where Talbot and the English are?"
'"I myself, and others wiser than I, gave that advice, and we think it
the better way and the surer."
'"In God's name, the counsel of our God is wiser and surer than yours.
You thought to deceive me, and you have deceived yourselves, for I bring
you a better rescue than ever shall come to soldier or city--that is,
the help of the King of Heaven. . . ."
'Then instantly, and as it were in one moment, the wind changed that had
been dead against us, and had hindered the boats from carrying the
provisions into Orleans, and the sails filled.'
Dunois now wished Joan to cross by boat and enter the town, but her army
could not cross, and she was loth to leave them, lest they fell into
sin, for she had made them all confess at Blois. However, the army
returned to Blois, to cross by the bridge there, and come upon the
Orleans bank, as Joan had intended from the first. Then Joan crossed in
the boat, holding in her hand the lily standard. So she and La Hire and
Dunois rode into Orleans, where the people crowded round her, blessing
her, and trying to kiss her hand. Night had fallen, there were torches
flaring in the wind, and, as the people thronged about her, a torch set
fire to the fringe of her banner. 'Then spurred she her horse, and
turned him gracefully and put out the flame, as if she had long followed
the wars, which the men-at-arms beheld with wonder, and the folk of
Orleans.' So they led her with great joy to the Regnart Gate, and the
house of Jacques Boucher, treasurer of the Duke of Orleans, and there
was she gladly received, with her two brothers and her gentlemen, her
old friends, Nouillompont and Poulengy.
Next day, without leave from Joan, La Hire led a sally against the
English, fought bravely, but failed, and Joan wished once more to bid
the English go in peace. The English, of course, did not obey her
summons, and it is said that they answered with wicked words which made
her weep. For she wept readily, and blushed when she was moved. In her
anger she went to a rampart, and, crying aloud, bade the English begone;
but they repeated their insults, and threatened yet again to burn her.
Next day (May 1), Dunois went off to bring the troops from Blois, and
Joan rode round and inspected the English position. They made no attempt
to take her. A superstitious fear of her 'witchcraft' had already fallen
on them; they had lost heart and soon lost all. On May 4 the army
returned from Blois. Joan rode out to meet them, priests marched in
procession, singing hymns, but the English never stirred. They were
expecting fresh troops under Fastolf. 'If you do not let me know when
Fastolf comes,' cried the Maid merrily to Dunois, 'I will have your head
cut off.' But for some reason, probably because they did not wish her to
run risk, they did not tell Joan when the next fight began. She had just
lain down to sleep when she leaped up with a noise, wakening her squire.
'My Voices tell me,' she said, 'that I must go against the English, but
whether to their forts or against Fastolf I know not.'
There was a cry in the street; Joan armed herself; her page came in.
'Wretched boy!' she said. 'French blood is flowing, and you never told
me!'
In a moment she was in the street, the page handed to her the lily flag
from the upper window. Followed by her squire, d'Aulon, she galloped to
the Burgundy Gate. They met wounded men. 'Never do I see French blood
but my hair stands up on my head,' said Joan. She rode out of the gate
to the English fort of St. Loup, which the Orleans men were attacking.
Joan leaped into the fosse, under fire, holding her banner, and cheering
on her men. St. Loup was taken by the French, in spite of a gallant
defence, and Joan wept for the dead English, fearing that they had died
unconfessed. Next day was Ascension Day. Joan, thinking 'the better the
day the better the deed,' was for fighting. There was no battle, but she
again summoned the English to withdraw, and again was insulted, and
wept.
The French generals now conceived a plan to make a feint, or a sham
attack, on the English forts where they were strongest, on the Orleans
side of the river. The English on the left side would cross to help
their countrymen, and then the French would take the forts beyond the
bridge. Thus they would have a free path across the river, and would
easily get supplies, and weary out the English. They only told Joan of
the first part of their plan, but she saw that they were deceiving her.
When the plan was explained she agreed to it, her one wish was to strike
swiftly and strongly. However, they did not carry out the plan, they
only assailed the forts on the left bank.
The French attacked the English fort of Les Augustins, beyond the river,
but suddenly they fled to their bridge of boats; while the English
sallied out, yelling their insults at Joan. She turned, she gathered a
few men, and charged. The English ran before her like sheep; she planted
her banner again in the ditch. The French hurried back to her, a great
Englishman, who guarded the breach, was shot; two French knights leaped
in, the others followed, and the English took refuge in the redoubt of
Les Tourelles, their strong fort at the bridge-head.
The Maid returned to Orleans, and, though it was a Friday, and she
always fasted on Fridays, she was so weary that she ate some supper. A
bit of bread, her page reports, was all that she usually ate. Now the
generals sent to Joan and said that enough had been done. They had food,
and could wait for another army from the king. 'You have been with your
council,' she said, 'I have been with mine. The wisdom of God is greater
than yours. Rise early to-morrow, do better than your best, keep close
by me; for to-morrow have I much to do, and more than ever yet I did,
and to-morrow shall my blood flow from a wound above my breast.'[15]
Joan had always said at Chinon that she would be wounded at Orleans.
From a letter by a Flemish ambassador, written three weeks before the
event happened, we know that this is true.[16]
Next morning Joan's host had got a fine fish for breakfast. 'Keep it
till evening, and I will bring you a God-damn' (an Englishman) 'to eat
his share,' said the Maid, 'and I will return by the bridge;' which was
broken.
The generals did not wish to attack the bridge-tower, but Joan paid them
no attention. They were glad enough to follow, lest she took the fort
without them.
[Illustration: Joan is wounded by the arrow]
About half-past six in the morning the fight began. The French and
Scottish leaped into the fosse, they set ladders against the walls, they
reached the battlements, and were struck down by English swords and
axes. Cannon-balls and great stones and arrows rained on them. 'Fight
on!' cried the Maid; 'the place is ours.' At one o'clock she set a
ladder against the wall with her own hands, but was deeply wounded by an
arrow, which pierced clean through between neck and shoulder. Joan wept,
but seizing the arrow with her own hands she dragged it out. The
men-at-arms wished to say magic spells over the wound to 'charm' it, but
this the Maid forbade as witchcraft. 'Yet,' says Dunois, 'she did not
withdraw from the battle, nor took any medicine for the wound; and the
onslaught lasted from morning till eight at night, so that there was no
hope of victory. Then I desired that the army should go back to the
town, but the Maid came to me and bade me wait a little longer. Next she
mounted her horse and rode into a vineyard, and there prayed for the
space of seven minutes or eight. Then she returned, took her banner, and
stood on the brink of the fosse. The English trembled when they saw her,
but our men returned to the charge and met with no resistance. The
English fled or were slain, and Glasdale, who had insulted the Maid,
was drowned' (by the burning of the drawbridge between the redoubt and
Les Tourelles. The Maid in vain besought him, with tears, to surrender
and be ransomed), 'and we returned gladly into Orleans.' The people of
Orleans had a great share in this victory. Seeing the English hard
pressed, they laid long beams across the broken arches of the bridge,
and charged by this perilous way. The triumph was even more that of the
citizens than of the army. Homer tells us how Achilles, alone and
unarmed, stood by the fosse and shouted, and how all the Trojans fled.
But here was a greater marvel; and the sight of the wounded girl, bowed
beneath the weight of her banner, frighted stouter hearts than those of
the men of Troy.
Joan returned, as she had prophesied, by the bridge, but she did not
make her supper off the fish: she took a little bread dipped in wine and
water, her wound was dressed, and she slept. Next day the English drew
up their men in line of battle. The French went out to meet them, and
would have begun the attack. Joan said that God would not have them
fight.
'If the English attack, we shall defeat them; we are to let them go in
peace if they will.'
Mass was then said before the French army.
When the rite was done, Joan asked: 'Do they face us, or have they
turned their backs?'
It was the English backs that the French saw that day: Talbot's men were
in full retreat on Meun.
From that hour May 8 is kept a holiday at Orleans in honour of Joan the
Maiden. Never was there such a deliverance. In a week the Maid had
driven a strong army, full of courage and well led, out of forts like
Les Tourelles. The Duc d'Alencon visited it, and said that with a few
men-at-arms he would have felt certain of holding it for a week against
any strength however great. But Joan not only gave the French her
spirit: her extraordinary courage in leading a new charge after so
terrible a wound, 'six inches deep,' says d'Alencon, made the English
think that they were fighting a force not of this world. And that is
exactly what they were doing.