The monarch heard her with surprise.
“Go back now, Jeanne?” he exclaimed. “That cannot be. We need you.”
“Nay, gentle King. There is no further need of me. You are crowned, and the towns will receive you joyfully. Whatever of fighting there is to be done the men-at-arms can do.”
“Dear Maid, have you forgot Paris? We are to march there from here, and who
can lead the men-at-arms to the storming so well as you? You will inspire them, give them heart and courage, and frighten the enemy. We cannot do without you
yet, Jeanne. We need you; the country needs you. Stay your departure for yet a
little while we entreat––nay; we command it, Jeanne.”
Her King and her country needed her. That was enough for the girl whose every
heart beat was for France. So sorrowfully she wended her way to The Zebra, the
little inn where Jacques and Durand were stopping.
“Father,” she said sadly, as Jacques came forward to meet her, “I can not go home. I must continue with the army. It is the King’s command.”
“Not go back, my little one?” exclaimed her father, his face clouding. “Why, Isabeau will be sore disappointed. She thought you would come after your work
was done.”
“And I too, father, but the noble King commands me to stay. He hath need of me, he says. And France needs me.” And, as she had done when she was a little child, Jeanne laid her head on her father’s shoulder and cried like the homesick girl that she was. Her father comforted her tenderly. His own disappointment was great.
“We went to see the King, Jeanne,” spoke Durand suddenly.
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“He had us brought to him, and he was graciousness itself. I wonder not that you delight to serve him; so sweet and pitiful he is.”
“Oh, he is,” exclaimed the maiden. “For know, father, that he has exempted both Domremy and Greux from the taxes.”
“Now that is good,” cried Jacques delightedly. “That will be news indeed to carry back!”
“And we each have a horse,” Durand told her proudly. “And we are to have our
keep for so long as we wish to stay in Reims. The town will have it so. And all because we are of kin to Jeanne D’Arc.”
Jeanne smiled at his pleasure. She too had gifts which she had bought to carry home herself. Now she gave them to her father to deliver with many a loving message, and then took a lingering farewell of them. Her heart was very full as she returned to the palace of the Archbishop, and once more took up her position as a general in the royal army. She never saw either her father or her uncle again.
Jeanne supposed that it was the King’s intention to march directly upon Paris the day after the coronation. To the surprise of every one Charles dallied at Reims for four days, and did not set forth from the town until the twenty-first of July.
Then with banners flying the royal army rode from the gates with glad hearts and high hopes, Jeanne with her standard riding in front of the King. With the Maid leading them the troops believed themselves to be invincible. They were filled with confidence, for Paris once taken, the power of the English in northern France would be entirely broken. Both Burgundy and Bedford realized this fact
to the full. “Paris is the heart of the mystic body of the kingdom,” wrote 2 t 9 h
0 e
former to the Regent in the Spring of 1430. “Only by liberating the heart can the body be made to flourish.” What was true in 1430 was equally so in 1429. The
right policy, therefore, was to advance at once and storm Paris.
But the King stopped at the Abbey of Saint Marcoul and “touched for the King’s
Evil.” [19] Nothing should have been allowed to waste time. It should have been Paris first, and then Saint Marcoul; for Bedford at this very time was marching from Calais with newly landed troops under Cardinal Beaufort.
After Saint Marcoul Charles marched next to Vailly, and having received the keys of Soissons passed to that city. Everywhere he was received with acclamations, town after town yielding to him and the Maid. The army was now
only sixty miles from Paris. Bedford had not reached the city, which had but a small garrison, and many of its citizens favored Charles. Only a vigorous
advance was required to take it, and so end the war. At Soissons the King received the submission of many towns, but there was nothing else done. When
the army set forth again the King turned about and headed due south for Château-Thierry; after two days he proceeded to Provins, which was reached on
August second.
This place was about sixty miles south of Soissons, and fifty miles southeast of Paris. With all his marching after ten days Charles was but ten miles nearer his objective point.
The enthusiasm of the troops was dwindling. Jeanne and the captains viewed the
effects of the vacillating manoeuvring of the King with despair; for no one seemed to know what it all meant. The Maid at length sought Charles for an explanation. To her surprise she learned that ambassadors from Burgundy had come to Reims on the very day of the coronation, desiring a truce between the
King and the Duke. The envoys had marched with them since then, for the belief
was so strong that Paris should be taken that the King and his Councillors did not dare treat with them while feeling ran so high. Now, however, the envoys had succeeded in establishing a sort of truce by the terms of which Burgundy was to deliver up Paris to Charles at the end of a fortnight.
