WHAT was to be done after the crowning of the king? Bedford, the regent
for the child Henry VI., expected to see Joan under the walls of Paris.
He was waiting for the troops which the Cardinal of Winchester had
collected in England as a crusading army against the Hussite heretics, a
kind of Protestants who were giving trouble. Bedford induced Winchester
to bring his men to France, but they had not arrived. The Duke of
Burgundy, the head of the great French party which opposed Charles, had
been invited by the Maid to Reims. Again she wrote to him: 'Make a firm,
good peace with the King of France,' she said; 'forgive each other with
kind hearts'--for the Duke's father had been murdered by the friends of
Charles. 'I pray and implore you, with joined hands, fight not against
France. Great pity it would be of the great battle and bloodshed if your
men come against us.'
The Duke of Burgundy, far from listening to Joan's prayer, left Paris
and went to raise men for the English. Meanwhile Charles was going from
town to town, and all received him gladly. But Joan soon began to see
that, instead of marching west from Reims to Paris, the army was being
led south-west towards the Loire. There the king would be safe among his
dear castles, where he could live indoors, 'in wretched little rooms,'
and take his ease. Thus Bedford was able to throw 5,000 men of
Winchester's into Paris, and even dared to come out and hunt for the
French king. The French should have struck at Paris at once as Joan
desired. The delays were excused, because the Duke of Burgundy had
promised to surrender Paris in a fortnight. But this he did merely to
gain time. Joan knew this, and said there would be no peace but at the
lance-point.
[Illustration: Joan challenges the English to sally forth]
Here we get the best account of what happened from Perceval de Cagny, a
knight in the household of the Duc d'Alencon. He wrote his book in
1436, only five years after Joan was burned, and he spoke of what he
knew well, as a follower of Joan's friend, 'the fair duke.' The French
and English armies kept watching each other, and there were skirmishes
near Senlis. On August 15 the Maid and d'Alencon hoped for a battle. But
the English had fortified their position in the night with ditches,
palisades, and a 'laager' of wagons. Come out they would not, so Joan
rode up to their fortification, standard in hand, struck the palisade,
and challenged them to sally forth. She even offered to let them march
out and draw themselves up in line of battle. La Tremouille thought this
a fine opportunity of distinguishing himself. He rode into the skirmish,
his horse fell with him, but, by evil luck, he was rescued. We do not
hear that La Tremouille risked himself again.[22] The Maid stayed on the
field all night, and next day made a retreat, hoping to draw the English
out of their fort. But they were too wary, and went back to Paris.
More towns came in to Charles. Beauvais yielded, and the Bishop of
Beauvais, Pierre Cauchon, had to fly to the English. He revenged himself
by managing Joan's trial and having her burned. Compiegne, an important
place north of Paris, yielded, and was handed to Guillaume de Flavy as
governor. In rescuing this fatal place later, Joan was taken prisoner.
Now the fortnight was over, after which the Duke of Burgundy was to
surrender Paris. But he did nothing of the kind, and there were more
'long weary councils,' and a truce was arranged with Burgundy till
Christmas. But the Maid was weary of words. She called the Duc d'Alencon
and said: 'My fair duke, array your men, for, by my staff, I would fain
see Paris more closely than I have seen it yet.'
On August 23 the Maid and d'Alencon left the king at Compiegne and rode
to St. Denis, where were the tombs of the kings of France. 'And when the
king heard that they were at St. Denis, he came, very sore against his
will, as far as Senlis, and it seems that his advisers were contrary to
the will of the Maid, of the Duc d'Alencon, and of their company.'
The great captains, Dunois, Xaintrailles, d'Alencon, were soldiers, and
the king's advisers and favourites were clergymen, like the Archbishop
of Reims, or indolent men of peace, like La Tremouille. They declared,
after the Maid was captured, that she 'took too much on herself,' and
they were glad of her fall. But she had shown that nobody but herself
and her soldiers and captains were of any use to France.
The king was afraid to go near Paris, but Bedford was afraid to stay in
the town. He went to Rouen, the strongest English hold in Normandy,
leaving the Burgundian army and 2,000 English in Paris.
Every day the Maid and d'Alencon rode from St. Denis and insulted the
gates of Paris, and observed the best places for an attack in force. And
still Charles dallied and delayed, still the main army did not come up.
Meanwhile Paris was strengthened by the English and Burgundians. The
people of the city were told that Charles intended to plunder the place
and utterly destroy it, 'which is difficult to believe,' says the Clerk
of Parliament, who was in the city at that time.[23] It was 'difficult to
believe,' but the Paris people believed it, and, far from rising for
their king and country, they were rather in arms against the Maid. They
had no wish to fall in a general massacre, as the English and
Burgundians falsely told them would be their fate.
Thus the delay of the king gave the English time to make Paris almost
impregnable, and to frighten the people, who, had Charles marched
straight from Reims, would have yielded as Reims did.
D'Alencon kept going to Senlis urging Charles to come up with the main
army. He went on September 1--the king promised to start next day.
D'Alencon returned to the Maid, the king still loitered. At last
d'Alencon brought him to St. Denis on September 7, and there was a
skirmish that day.
HOW THE MAID WAS WOUNDED IN ATTACKING PARIS, AND HOW THE KING WOULD NOT
LET THE ASSAULT BEGIN AGAIN
In all descriptions of battles different accounts are given, each man
telling what he himself saw, or what he remembers. As to the assault on
Paris on September 8, the Maid herself said a few words at her trial.
Her Voices had neither commanded her to attack nor to abstain from
attacking. Her opinion was that the captains and leaders on her side
only meant to skirmish in force, and to do deeds of chivalry. But her
own intention was to press onwards, and, by her example, to make the
army follow her. It was thus that she took Les Tourelles at Orleans.
This account scarcely agrees with what we read in the book of Perceval
de Cagny, who was with his lord, the Duc d'Alencon. He says that about
eight on the morning of September 8, the day of Our Lady, the army set
forth; some were to storm the town; another division was to remain under
cover and protect the former if a sally was made by the English. The
Maid, the Marshal de Rais, and De Gaucourt led the attack on the Porte
St. Honore.[24] Standard in hand, the Maid leaped into the fosse near the
pig market. 'The assault was long and fierce, and it was marvel to hear
the noise of cannons and culverins from the walls, and to see the clouds
of arrows. Few of those in the fosse with the Maid were struck, though
many others on horse and foot were wounded with arrows and stone
cannon-balls, but by God's grace and the Maid's good fortune, there was
none of them but could return to camp unhelped. The assault lasted from
noon till dusk, say eight in the evening. After sunset the Maid was
struck by a crossbow bolt in the thigh; and, after she was hurt, she
cried but the louder that all should attack, and that the place was
taken. But as night had now fallen, and she was wounded, and the
men-at-arms were weary with the long attack, De Gaucourt and others came
and found her, and, against her will, brought her forth from the fosse.
And so ended that onslaught. But right sad she was to leave, and said,
"By my baton, the place would have been taken." They put her on
horseback, and led her to her quarters, and all the rest of the king's
company who that day had come from St. Denis.'
So Cagny tells the story. He was, we may believe, with d'Alencon and the
party covering the attack. Jean Chartier, who was living at the time,
adds that the Maid did not know that the inner moats were full of water.
When she reached the water, she had faggots and other things thrown in
to fill up a passage. At nightfall she would not retreat, and at last
d'Alencon came and forced her to return. The Clerk of Parliament, who,
of course, was within the walls, says that the attack lasted till ten or
eleven o'clock at night, and that, in Paris, there was a cry that all
was lost.
Joan behaved as gallantly as she did at Les Tourelles. Though wounded
she was still pressing on, still encouraging her men, but she was not
followed. She was not only always eager to attack, but she never lost
heart, she never lost grip. An army of men as brave as Joan would have
been invincible.
'Next day,' says Cagny, 'in spite of her wound, she was first in the
field. She went to d'Alencon and bade him sound the trumpets for the
charge. D'Alencon and the other captains were of the same mind as the
Maid, and Montmorency with sixty gentlemen and many lances came in,
though he had been on the English side before. So they began to march on
Paris, but the king sent messengers, the Duc de Bar, and the Comte de
Clermont, and compelled the Maid and the captains to return to St.
Denis. Right sorry were they, yet they must obey the king. They hoped to
take Paris from the other side, by a bridge which the Duc d'Alencon had
made across the Seine. But the king knew the duke's and the Maid's
design, and caused the bridge to be broken down, and a council was held,
and the king desired to depart and go to the Loire, to the great grief
of the Maid. When she saw that they would go, she dedicated her armour,
and hung it up before the statue of Our Lady at St. Denis, and so right
sadly went away in company with the king. And thus were broken the will
of the Maid and the army of the king.'
The politicians had triumphed. They had thwarted the Maid, they had made
her promise to take Paris of no avail. They had destroyed the confidence
of men in the banner that had never gone back. Now they might take their
ease, now they might loiter in the gardens of the Loire. The Maid had
failed, by their design, and by their cowardice. The treachery that she,
who feared nothing else, had long dreaded, was accomplished now. 'The
will of the Maid and the army of the king were broken.'[25]