So when Jeanne declared that the war was a Holy War, and that all who followed
her must go clean of sin, gambling and dicing ceased, and men went to be shrived daily. La Hire, too, fierce ruffian though he was, gave up swearing, though he begged so hard to leave him something to swear by that she, having a
sense of humor, left him his baton.
All now being in readiness on the morning of the twenty-eighth of April the army started on its march to Orléans. The day was bright and beautiful, ideal for the beginning of such an enterprise. The brilliant sunlight flooded the fields and meadows gay with wild flowers. At the head of the army marched a long procession of priests bearing crosses, swinging censers, with holy banners as on a pilgrimage, and chanting the “Veni Creator”; the grave and solemn music of the church accompanied strangely by the fanfares and bugle notes of the army.
Following these came Jeanne on a great white horse that the King had given her.
She was clad in white armour inlaid with silver––all shining like her own Saint Michael himself. A radiance of whiteness and glory under the sun––her uncovered head rising in full relief from the dazzling breastplate and gorget.
With her rode D’Aulon, her squire, following immediately after were her own faithful knights, her brothers, confessor, and pages; while behind them stretched the main body of the army, a forest of glittering spears, the divisions commanded by the respective generals. Then came the long train of carts and cattle to which the army formed an escort. God’s Maid indeed seemed Jeanne as she rode, and
with hearts beating high with hope the citizens of the town blessed her as she passed up the road on the way to Orléans.
Blois was thirty miles from the besieged city, on the right bank of the River Loire, on which side Orléans was also situated. It was Jeanne’s plan, in accordance with directions from Her Voices, which told her to go forward boldly, nothing doubting, to go direct to Orléans by the road on the right bank, entering the city by its western gate, past the English fortifications. But, knowing nothing of the country, she left the guidance of the army to her captains, who deceived her.
The English had built a line of strong fortresses called bastilles around Orléans––fortresses which closed all the gates of the city but one. To the French
generals the idea of trying to fight their way past those strongholds and lead the army and supplies into Orléans was preposterous; they believed the result would be the destruction of the army. Jeanne’s theory of the art of war was simple; she believed it to consist in attacking at once the principal body of the enemy, but after the recent experience at Rouvray the generals hesitated to face their enemies in the field. The generals therefore decided to march to Orléans by the left bank of the river. How they were to cross the river when they came opposite to the city they seem not to have considered. Intending to use Jeanne’s trust in the divine favor to stir up the enthusiasm of their soldiers they did not tell her their plans, but made her believe that Orléans was situated on the left, or south, bank of the Loire.
Therefore, crossing the bridge at Blois they marched up the south bank of the stream. As had been said, it was thirty miles from Blois to Orléans, and the army passed one night in the fields. For the first time Jeanne slept in armour, and was in consequence bruised and chafed. When it is considered that this armour included a helmet (worn by her only at night); a neck-piece or gorget; a corselet; hip joints; a kind of skirt of steel, open in the centre for freedom in riding; strong shoulder plates; steel sleeve, gauntlets, thigh pieces, knee-joints, greaves, and shoes; every piece being of steel, the wonder is that a mere girl could have carried such a weight.
About noon of the succeeding day the army came upon the heights of Olivet, two miles south of Orléans, from which the city and the position of the besieging army could be plainly seen. Then Jeanne saw how she had been deceived.
Between her and the town of Orléans lay the wide river, the broken bridge, and
the camps of the English.
How the cattle and so great a company of men-at-arms were to be ferried across
under the artillery of the English, who held the bridge and the strong keep of Les Tourelles which guarded passage at this point, was a problem. On the further shore the people swarmed the walls and quays of the city, laboring to launch boats with sails, and so purposing to ascend the stream and meet the relieving army. But a strong wind was blowing down stream and it was impossible to bring up the heavy barges needed to transport men and provisions, while the army and the convoy seemed open to attack by Suffolk and Talbot, who could cross the river safely under the guns of the fort on the island and the bridge.
Jeanne was bitterly indignant, and spoke her mind pretty plainly to the generals, to whom the absurdity of their plan was now apparent. She wished to attack the
bastilles of the English on this side of the river at once, and the soldiers were
eager to follow her, but the generals implored her not to think of it, as even though these were taken they would not have the strength to hold them. So again the army took up its march from Olivet and wended its way up the river to a point six miles above the city. The march was watched anxiously from the leaguered city, and so flat was the country that every movement could be marked after the troops left Olivet. When the expedition stopped, the Count of Dunois, natural half brother of the Duke of Orléans and commander of the city, took boat and rowed up stream and across to meet it. Jeanne spurred forward to meet the
hardy young man, brown of visage, who leaped from the boat.
“Are you the Count of Dunois?” she asked.
“I am,” said he, “and right glad of your coming.”
“Was it you that gave counsel that I should come by this bank and not by the other side, and so straight against Talbot and the English?”
“I and wiser men than I gave that advice, believing it to be best and safest,” he returned mildly.
“In God’s name, the counsel of Messire is safer and wiser than yours.” She pointed to the water running rough and strong, a great wind following it, so that no sailing boats could come from the town.
“You thought to deceive me, and you rather deceived yourselves, for I bring you better help than ever came to any captain or city, the help of the King of Heaven.
It is not given for love of me, but comes from God himself, who at the prayer of Saint Louis and Saint Charlemagne has had pity on the city of Orléans, and will not suffer that enemies shall have the body of the duke and his city also. But have patience. By the help of God all will go well.”
And in a moment, as it were, the wind, which was contrary and strong, shifted,
and became favourable, so that each vessel could now tow two others. Dunois was much impressed by this signal grace from God, and regarded the Maid reverently. Then taking advantage of the change he had the heavy barges towed
up the river five miles, where the supplies were embarked without danger of attack, the army having marched along the river bank to the same place. As the
loaded barges went down stream to the city, the garrison made a sortie against the English bastille of St. Loup, to prevent its defenders from firing upon the flotilla, and thus secured the safe arrival of the supplies.
This being accomplished the Count of Dunois wished Jeanne to return with him
to the city. The people were impatiently awaiting her coming, he said, and it
would give them courage and hope merely to behold her. But Jeanne was reluctant to leave the army. It had been determined that it should go back to Blois, and make a new march, returning to Orléans by the north or right bank, according to the Maid’s plan. Later it was found that Jeanne could have taken the army and supplies by the English forts just as she had designed; for the English soldiers were in a demoralized condition of superstitious terror. They too had heard of the coming of the divine Maid, but they believed her to be a witch in
league with Satan. The French generals did not take this fact into account.
Jeanne feared now to leave her army. She had been deceived once; how could she know that the captains would keep the promise to return with the soldiers?
Then too she might lose her hold upon the men if they were without her presence. So she was reluctant to consent to enter the city. Dunois implored the captains to promise to return, and to be content without her, and so save the disappointment of the people. The captains promised, and so, sending her own confessor, Father Pasquerel, and the great standard with the soldiers, Jeanne crossed the river with Dunois, taking with her her Household and a force of two hundred lances.
It had been noon when they reached the heights of Olivet, but the march up the
river, the transporting of the supplies, and the return march down the Loire had taken much time, so that it was nearly eight o’clock in the evening when she rode into the city, by way of the Burgundy gate. She was in full armour, mounted on the white horse, with her white pennon, on which was the Annunciation with
