JOHN O’HAGAN. “The Song of Roland. ”
No longer buoyed up by hope Jeanne began to feel her wound to faintness, and
was compelled to seek her room for rest. As she lay on her bed, despondent and
heavy-hearted, her Saints came to her with words of comfort. Daily they appeared, but since the crowning of Charles at Reims they had given the maiden
no specific direction. There had been no further definite message. They had said,
“Raise the siege of Orléans and lead the Dauphin to his crowning”; and she had
done both things. Now they consoled the girl in her humiliation and sorrow, and uttered a message:
“Remain at St. Denys, Daughter of God,” they said. “Remain at St. Denys.”
And Jeanne resolved to do so, but this was not allowed. After a few days Cha3r0l9es announced his intention of returning to the Loire, and ordered the army to make ready for the march. And now the cause of the shameful treason at Paris was learned. There was a new treaty with Burgundy. Charles had signed it just before coming to St. Denys. La Trémouille and his party had triumphed, and an inglorious armistice which was to last until Christmas was the result. The position of the Favorite was becoming precarious under the great national feeling that was beginning to sweep the land, and his only safety from his foes was to keep his hold upon Charles. To this end the King was persuaded to
consent to the abandonment of the campaign. Charles was not difficult to win over, for by so doing he would be left in peace to pursue his pleasures, and La Trémouille would be free to misrule France as he liked.
The truce covered the whole of the country north of the Seine from Nogent, sixty miles above Paris, to the sea. While it lasted Charles might not receive the submission of any city or town, however desirous it might be to acknowledge him, although strangely enough he might attack Paris, while equally as strange, Burgundy might assist the Regent to defend it against him. Compiègne was to be
given as hostage to Burgundy. The French hoped by giving him this city that he
might be drawn from the English alliance.
Compiègne, however, refused to be given, thereby showing more loyalty to the
cause of France than did the poor stick of a King. Burgundy entered into the truce for his own purposes, playing France against England to increase his power at French expense. Philip was justified in seeking a truce, for many towns which had been Burgundian had thrown off such allegiance, and turned to Charles. He
wished to prevent such desertions for the future. England might come into this peace at any time if she wished. This left England free to wage war against France, and the French could move against the English, but not if any stronghold was held for the English by the Burgundians. It is difficult to see what France hoped to gain by such an armistice, though there were those among the Councillors who sincerely believed that from the arrangement a lasting peace might result both with Burgundy and the English. Later it was learned how Burgundy had beguiled them. Alençon and the captains denounced the truce bitterly.
“If the King had taken Paris, he could have made his own terms with Philip,” the young duke told Jeanne.
“The noble King is deceived,” said the girl sorrowfully. “There will be no peace with Burgundy for six years, and not until seven are sped shall the King enter his capital.”
“Jeanne, do you in truth know that?” questioned the young man quickly. “You speak as though you do.”
“I do know, gentle duke. My Voices have told me. Paris would have been ours
had we but persisted in the attack, and in a few months northern France would
have been clear of the English. Now it will take twenty years to drive them out.”
“Twenty years,” repeated Alençon aghast. “Have your voices told you that also,
Jeanne?”
“Yes, fair duke. And the pity of it! Oh, the pity of it!”
“The pity of it,” he echoed. “For now we must start for the Loire, leaving all these cities and towns that have made submission to Charles to the mercies of the Regent. They have written piteous letters to the King, entreating him not to abandon them, but he consoles them by telling them that he is withdrawing because he does not wish to strip the country to feed the army; yet the English are left free to harry the towns, and their state will be worse than before they made submission. We should not leave.”
“I shall not go,” returned Jeanne quietly. “My Voices have told me to remain at St. Denys. I shall obey them.”
She reckoned without her host. When the King was ready to march he
commanded her attendance. She refused to go. She had never disobeyed her Heavenly Guides, she told him, so she gave the King her duty, and begged of him to let her stay. Charles was not minded to do this, so he ordered that she be brought along. Jeanne’s wound was not yet healed, and she was scarcely able to
get about. So the helpless maiden was forced against her will to go with the King.
It was a dreary march back to Gien, but it was made quickly. So eager was the
King to return to his amusements that the one hundred and fifty miles’ distance from St. Denys to Gien was traversed in eight days. When the city was reached
Charles disbanded the army; so that of all the great number of men who had set
forth from the place three months agone with banners flying nothing remained but the men of the King’s body guard. Some were free lances from many lands,
but for the most part they were French gentlemen who had served without pay for the love of France and the Maid. Jeanne took farewell of them with sadness: the brave Dunois, the bold La Hire, Poton Zaintrailles, Boussac, Culent, and others. The great army was never mustered again.
Normandy, being an English possession, was exempt from the truce, so Alençon
prayed permission to lead troops against the English strongholds there, wishing also to take the Maid with him. “For many,” he said, “would come with them for
her sake who would not budge without her.”
But neither the King nor La Trémouille would grant the grace. They did not wish the ardent young prince to become a leader of the French against the enemy, and the Maid had become too much of a power to be lost sight of. So firmly and decidedly the project was dismissed, and he was relieved of his command. In disgust the young duke retired to his estates. He and Jeanne had grown to be
great friends. He believed in her implicitly, and she was fond of him that he did so believe; and also because of his nobility of character, and his connection with the house of Orléans. It was the last time that they ever met. “And thus was broken the spirit of the Maid, and of the army. ”[23]
