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 Orléans 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 Orléans. 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 Orléans 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 Orléans 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. Privé, 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 Orléans, 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 Château Regnard came marching into the
city the next day, bringing word that the army and convoy from Blois had started on the march for Orléans.
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 Orléans.
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
