6

The Road to Reims

The road to Reims lay open, but that did not mean that it was without ‘potholes’ or other hindrances. Between Orléans and Reims there were many towns and villages held by the English and Burgundians, and they could all have been impediments to a French army intent on crowning its king at the sacred site of such ceremonies, Reims Cathedral, especially as Reims itself was also under Burgundian control. Should each of these towns, as well as the city of Reims, require a military operation like that carried out on Jargeau, Meung-sur-Loire, and Beaugency, the coronation would be greatly delayed.

But there was some hope in the wake of the battle of Patay. The townspeople of Janville had barred the English from returning within their town’s walls, essentially surrendering themselves to the French soldiers who were pursuing the fleeing English. And Janville was not alone. Both Jacques Bouvier, the herald of Berry, and the Chronique de la Pucelle indicate that other English-controlled towns and villages Mehun, Ferté-Hubert, Montpeyroux, and Saint-Simeon, also surrendered themselves to the French after Patay without violence or bloodshed.1 It is of course easy to understand why these towns did this. Besides the simple fact that their inhabitants were French themselves, and in most instances had not been under English rule for long enough to formulate solid political or economic bonds, these citizens also could not help but recognize the newly acquired martial skill of the French or the destructiveness that followed an attempted hold-out against them. What had occurred at Jargeau was known widely throughout the land – and not only the ruin of the town’s fortifications, church, and some houses, which obviously had resulted in grievous and long-term financial setbacks, but also the execution of the prisoners there. Whether Joan knew about or participated in these executions, and whether or not the victims were only Englishmen, the effect of this incident and what it could mean to other towns undoubtedly frightened some citizens into desiring submission.

But they could not have surrendered if there had been large English or Burgundian garrisons in their towns. Why these garrisons were not in place cannot be explained by the settlements’ size, although it is certain that some of the villages and towns in occupied France were simply too small to warrant a gathering of troops. But there were also no garrisons or only small garrisons in far larger towns than those that surrendered after Patay, even towns the size of Auxerre, Châlons, Troyes, and, in fact, Reims itself. The reason for this is, in fact, somewhat complicated, yet it is fundamental to the very nature of fifteenth-century combat. Although this has not been realized by most Hundred Years War historians, especially English ones, the English forces that occupied France in 1429 really had no justifiable reason for their success there. After all, England was a far less populated kingdom than France. Comparative demographic figures show a disparity of more than 300 per cent.2 This of course meant that the potential number of soldiers from England was much smaller than that from France. Calculations of English soldiers in France provided by Anne Curry based on expeditions sent from England to France between 1415 and 1429 show a total of just 41,327,3 an incredibly small number of troops to protect all of the occupied regions of France, and to carry on further offensive military actions, even if it was feasible that all of those soldiers remained alive and in military service in France in 1429. This meant, as was seen above, that the English forces besieging Orléans in 1428–9 never had enough numbers even to surround the whole city. To be sure, a small English population and equally small numbers of English soldiers did not seem to hinder the course of the war before 1429. Additionally, the English had been able to capitalize on the civil war that raged throughout France between the Armagnacs and the Burgundians. The English used their allies to help eliminate their personnel problems, assigning them garrison duties in places such as Paris.4

All of this had led to a large number of French towns surrendering to the English and Burgundians without being attacked by them. In so doing, they had obviously avoided any of the destruction occurring in the areas that had attempted to withstand an English onslaught: without an effective French army to protect them, the willing subjugation of these towns became a safety measure. Frequently no garrisons were assigned to them, and this gave the occupied towns a relative sovereignty and peacefulness, and enabled the occupiers to spread out their own personnel resources to cover more threatened locations. Leaving these targets exposed to a French offensive was a risk, but it was a risk that the English were forced to take to make up for their low numbers.

Before Joan of Arc’s victories along the Loire river, the English risk had been minimal. Few of the ‘occupied’ towns that were without English garrisons had created a problem for their occupiers. Indeed, contemporary records show that while a small number of towns had dissident groups operating within them who wished to recognize the dauphin and revolt against English control, without dependable promises of French military support, the majority of citizens preferred a less threatened existence to one that carried the threat of a more harsh and violent English or Burgundian presence.5 But, by 18 June, the situation for many of those towns had changed considerably. By then, not only were there promises of successful French military support for centres of population, especially those to the south and east of Paris, that wished to throw off English control, but at the head of the military was a holy woman, a living saint, whose presence guaranteed divine justification for their decision to go against the English. Joan’s reputation as a military ‘savior’ had traveled widely throughout occupied France. Her mission was well known. She had promised to relieve the siege of Orléans, and she had; and now she promised to lead the king to Reims and his coronation, and no one in France, including the English, doubted that she would.

Consciously or not, Joan perpetuated this image. (Regnault of Chartres, archbishop of Reims and one of her detractors, for one, believed that she was conscious of this perpetuation. After her capture, he would complain to the people of Reims about Joan’s pride and independence.6) In a letter written on 25 June 1429 (only a week after her victory at Patay) to the citizens of Tournai – and certainly elsewhere, although only the Tournai letter has survived – Joan described her recent victories and what these meant to places like theirs which had continually and at a heavy cost withstood the English forces. She was anything but shy in her enthusiasm:

Jhesus Maria

Gracious loyal Frenchmen of the city of Tournai, the Maid sends you the news that from here in eight days, whether by assault or otherwise, she has chased the English out of every place they held on the River Loire. Many of them are dead or taken prisoners and they are discomfited in battle. And may you well believe that the Earl of Suffolk, La Pole his brother, the Lord Talbot, the lord of Scales, and my lord John Fastolf, and many knights and captains have been taken, and that the brother of the Earl of Suffolk and Glasdale are dead. Hold yourselves fast, loyal Frenchmen, I pray you.

And I pray and demand that you be ready to come to the anointing of the gracious King Charles at Reims, where we shall soon be; come before us when you hear that we are approaching. I commend you to God; may God keep watch over you and give you grace to be able to sustain the good cause of the kingdom of France.7

Joan’s stature was so high in France at this moment, that even though the road to Reims was not an unhindered one, it would be traveled by her and the king with relative ease, leading to the fulfilment of her second mission, the crowning of a French monarch.

Sometime during the middle of June, Charles, the dauphin of France, moved to Gien. When and why he moved there cannot be determined with exactitude from contemporary sources. Gien is on the eastern side of Orléans, while Chinon and Blois, where Charles had spent much of his time before the arrival of Joan, were to the west of Orléans. Does this mean that the dauphin now felt safe enough to travel to what until recently had been threatened territory as a result of what Joan and the French army had been able to do against the English during the previous two months? That, too, must remain conjecture. But one thing is certain: the location of Gien gave the dauphin a more direct route to Reims. Despite the continued reluctance of some of his counselors, the dauphin himself must have been thinking about the possibility of his coronation.

It might seem unusual that with so many nobles, soldiers, and commoners all joining Joan and her cause, some in Charles’s court either openly opposed her methods and achievements or were reluctant to believe that what she had accomplished came from God and would continue. One in particular was especially vocal: Georges de la Trémoïlle,8 who had been such an adversary to the Constable, Arthur de Richemont, had also begun to oppose Joan. No doubt her acceptance of Richemont into the army had not improved her position at court, but La Trémoïlle’s opposition to her seems to have originated even earlier than that incident. Nor had his enmity declined as Joan began to achieve military successes. Indeed, if anything, it seems to have increased.9

There were two reasons for La Trémoïlle’s reluctance to accept Joan and her methods of retaking the occupied parts of France. The first was a basic personality flaw. While he had been successful in flattering the dauphin enough to secure appointment as the Grand Chamberlain of France and Lieutenant General of Burgundy, as well as serving as Charles’s chief counselor, La Trémoïlle seems to have been jealous of anyone else who got close to Charles. He then sought to drive a wedge between the object of his jealousy and the easily influenced dauphin. The second reason for La Trémoïlle’s opposition to Joan was his belief that the only way to end the wars between England and France and between Burgundy and France was diplomacy. More importantly, he believed that the only means truly to end the former conflict was to finish the latter one first – to mend the rift between the dauphin and the duke of Burgundy. This philosophy had begun early in his life when La Trémoïlle served as Chamberlain to Duke John the Fearless of Burgundy, and it had not waned when he took up a similar position with the dauphin. Nor had he broken any connections with Burgundy once he joined the dauphin’s court. Indeed, although he seems frequently to have come close to what could be called treason when it came to his opposition to successful French military leaders, ultimately, his drive for a diplomatic solution to the Hundred Years War would lead La Trémoïlle to his greatest achievement – the Congress of Arras in 1435, at which he would succeed in inducing Philip the Good to switch allegiances from England to France. But before he effected that pivotal event, he ensured that anyone who sought to ‘win’ the war by ‘warfare’ was disliked and was also generally forced out of favor at court.

So, while Joan of Arc and other military leaders both by their words and deeds were urging the dauphin to travel to Reims and his coronation, La Trémoïlle and others were advising him to be patient and wait for further victories, perhaps in Normandy, or for diplomacy to make the trip to Reims more safe. However, Joan continued to push for coronation and promised that she would deliver the dauphin to Reims safely. The Bastard of Orléans testified at her nullification trial:

After the [Loire] victories, he remembered that the lords of royal blood and captains wished that the king would go to Normandy and not to Reims. But the Maid always was of the opinion that he ought to go to Reims to be consecrated as king, and she added as a reason for her opinion that when the king had been crowned and consecrated, the power of his adversaries would continue to diminish, and that they finally would not be able to hurt him or his kingdom.10

Eventually, Joan’s opinion prevailed. For although a meeting of the dauphin’s council was held on 22 June at which only a few of the successful French military leaders, not including Joan, were present, and at which La Trémoïlle tried to make a different proposal to that which would send the king and his army to Reims, eventually it was decided that the dauphin should be crowned king. Later, La Trémoïlle again tried alternative proposals to those offered by Joan: that the dauphin should first travel to Bourges, or that the army should first besiege the enemy-occupied southern Loire towns of Cosne and La Charité-sur-Loire.11 But these ideas were also dismissed by Charles, and he prepared to journey to the sacred city of Reims.12

During these meetings, Joan had been in Orléans becoming impatient. With her was a growing army, numbering perhaps as many as 12,000.13 It was a formidable force, one that looked forward to the crowning of the king if not an encounter with the English. All wanted to fight with the Maid, for her triumph seems to have attracted many who were anxious to share in her success, to take part in her mission, and to feel her spirituality.14 On 24 June, they were allowed to go to Gien. Joan was elated. It seemed that the French army was finally ready to set out on the road to Reims. Perceval de Cagny writes that Joan expressed this to her friend, the duke of Alençon, with the following words: ‘Sound the trumpets and mount your horse. It is time to go to the gentle King Charles to put him on the path of his consecration at Reims.’15 But, once at Gien, the army again had to wait. On 25 June, Joan composed and sent her letter to the inhabitants of Tournai; but otherwise she and the army did little. On 26 June, again no movement towards Reims was made. Finally on 27 June, Joan became frustrated at the inaction of the dauphin, and, while she could not rebuke him as she had the Bastard of Orléans during a similar inactive streak before the relief of the siege of Orléans, she protested against what was happening (or in this case not happening) in the only way she could. She left Gien and camped with the common soldiers in the fields outside of the town. Cagny records her impatience:

The king was at Gien until Wednesday 29 June. And the Maid was very distressed at the lengthy sojourn which was made at that place because some of the men of his court counseled him not to undertake the road to Reims, saying that he had many cities and other villages closed to him, castles and fortifications well garrisoned with English and Burgundians between Gien and Reims. The Maid said that she knew this well and that she did not take any account of this. And in frustration, she left her lodgings and went to camp in the fields for two days before the departure of the king.

In her absence, it became evident to Charles that the army and its leaders were devoted to Joan. They believed in her and knew that they could deliver the dauphin to Reims without difficulty. Cagny continues:

And while the king did not have silver to pay his army, all the knights, squires, men of war, and commoners would not refuse to go to serve the king on this journey in the company of the Maid, saying that they would go everywhere she wished to go. And she said: ‘By my Martin, I will lead the gentle King Charles and his company safely, and he will be consecrated at Reims.’16

Thus, on 29 June, with Joan leading them, and the dauphin and his court also present, the large army began its march northeast to Reims. Its first stop was the town of Auxerre, which was reached on 30 June. Auxerre had been under Burgundian control for almost a decade,17 and there was even a Burgundian municipal administration, which had been appointed to oversee the governance of the town. But there appear not to have been any soldiers watching over this most southern site of the Burgundian realm. Most importantly, the town and its Burgundian governors were not at all interested in trying to withstand the enormous enemy army led by Joan of Arc. Negotiations for surrender took three days, but in the end the municipal administration capitulated and the townspeople threw open their gates and resupplied the French forces. The dauphin forgave all who were involved with the English and Burgundians, and no blood was shed.18

The army marched on, passing the villages of Cravant, Coulanges-la-Vineuse, Saint-Fargeau, Brienon, Saint-Florentin, Evry, and Saint-Phal. All welcomed the soldiers and the Maid, and all made homage to the dauphin.19 The next large town along the road to Reims was Troyes, but this well-fortified stronghold presented a potential problem to the French forces. Not only had Troyes been within the Anglo-Burgundian orbit for longer than Auxerre, but it had also been the site of the Treaty of Troyes, signed in 1420 by Henry V, Charles VI, and Philip the Good, which had formalized the French situation that Joan and others had opposed for so long. That treaty had disinherited Charles as dauphin, and, only days later, at the church of St Jean in Troyes, Henry V had married Charles’s sister, Catherine. The union produced Charles’s rival for the French throne, Henry VI.20 Moreover, unlike the people of Auxerre and elsewhere, the inhabitants of Troyes had actually benefited from and prospered under Anglo-Burgundian rule. There was bound to be some opposition to simple capitulation to the dauphin; perhaps the townspeople might do better to try and hold out against the French until an English or Burgundian army could relieve them.

In anticipation of this possibility, on 4 July, Joan wrote to the citizens of Troyes from Saint Phal, expressing her desire that they recognize her mission and the power of her army, and threatening them if they did not surrender. This letter is much closer to her ‘Letter to the English’ than it is to her letter to the citizens of Tournai:

Jhesus Maria

Very good and dear friends – lords, townsmen, and residents of the city of Troyes – Joan the Maid commands and informs you on behalf of the King of Heaven our rightful and sovereign Lord, in whose royal service she serves daily, that you should truly obey and recognize the gracious king of France, who will soon be at the city of Reims and at Paris, come who may against him. And with the aid of the King Jesus he will be in all good cities in his holy kingdom. Loyal Frenchmen, come before King Charles. Do not fail to do so; have no hesitation about your lives and property if you do so. And if you do not do so, I promise and assure you for your lives’ sake that with God’s aid we shall enter all the cities that should belong to the holy Kingdom; and we will establish a firm peace there, whoever comes against us. I commend you to God, may God protect you, if it please Him. Reply soon.21

To this, the dauphin added his own guarantees of amnesty, should the town surrender quickly.

On 5 July, the French army camped outside of Troyes. The gates of the town were shut tight, the drawbridges erect, so that only the walls and ditches greeted Joan, the king, and their entourage. The inhabitants of Troyes, disregarding Joan’s letter and the dauphin’s promises, seemed prepared to defend themselves. This, in the words of C.-R. Pernin, presented the French military leaders with a ‘gros obstacle’ (a great obstacle).22 Part of the reason for this defiance may have been the fact that, unlike Auxerre and the villages along the route which had so far surrendered peacefully to the coronation expedition, Troyes seems to have had a small garrison of 500–600 English and Burgundian troops. This may have led to some unwillingness on the part of the Troyennes to capitulate, at least without seeing whether there was a possibility of English or Burgundian relief. This can be the only explanation of why, shortly after the arrival of the French army, these soldiers would sortie out of the town in a show of force, only to be sent scrambling back inside its walls after a small skirmish showed them that their opponents possessed a very large force, something which seems not to have been entirely evident to them initially.23

This would be the last military encounter between the two opposing forces. For the next four days, ambassadors, heralds, and messengers went back and forth between the townspeople and the army. Joan and the dauphin continued to plead with the inhabitants of Troyes for submission, while the townspeople continued to hold out for either a relief army or better terms of surrender.24 There was also some obvious concern among the Troyennes over the presence of Joan with the French force. They had undoubtedly heard of her exploits, but they had been continually told by their Anglo-Burgundian leaders that she was led by a source other than God. How else could she have accomplished what she had against superior English foes? In response, on one of these ambassadorial exchanges, these citizens sent Friar Richard to confront her. He was a Franciscan brother who had been accorded some form of theological popularity as a result of his sermons predicting the end of the world (in 1430), and was well respected by the Troyennes for his spirituality – although this same respect had not been given him by other communities, since he had been driven out of Paris in April 1429, a fate that would be repeated later at Troyes. He was sent to examine Joan and to ascertain her theological credibility. At her trial, Joan recalled her encounter with him:

Those from the town of Troyes, she believed, sent him to her, saying that they doubted that she was something which had come from God. And when this brother approached her, he made the sign of the cross and sprinkled holy water. And then she said to him: ‘Come boldly. I will not fly away.’25

Joan was clearly unimpressed by this man whose own orthodoxy was to be questioned. Friar Richard’s reaction to her is not known.

As the days wore on, the situation at Troyes began to demand a solution. Such a large army as that with the dauphin needed to be fed, and victuals were beginning to run short.26 Finally, on 8 July, the dauphin chose to convene a council of war. Again, surprisingly, Joan was excluded from this meeting, but this seems to be evidence of the opposition beginning to grow against her among some of the king’s counselors. The question was whether to continue to camp around Troyes or to bypass it and proceed on to Reims. Speaking for the latter possibility was Archbishop Regnault of Chartres. According to the Journal du siège d’Orléans and Jean Chartier, the two sources which report on this council in greatest detail, the archbishop felt that they had spent too much time already attempting to gain the capitulation of this town, and that because of their lack of supplies, it was essential that they move on to Reims where they would be greeted with kindness and sustenance. In opposition to him rose Robert le Maçon, the lord of Trèves, described by Chartier as an ‘ancient counselor’. He eloquently addressed the gathering, saying that they should summon Joan of Arc and ask for her advice, that she had ‘always pushed to go for the king’s coronation at Reims’, and that she, through her military victories, had made it possible for them to travel this far. Le Maçon’s words were convincing, and Joan was summoned to give her opinion. The Bastard of Orléans later recalled her appearance before the council:

Joan came and entered the council, saying these or similar words: ‘Noble dauphin, order your people to come and besiege the town of Troyes, and stay no longer in council. For, in the name of God, before three days are out, I will lead you into the city of Troyes, by love or strength or courage, and the false Burgundians will be amazed.’27

Joan’s promise persuaded the council to increase the military effort at Troyes, and she was put in charge of the siege. She began quickly. First, she set up all of the French gunpowder artillery against the walls and prepared for its use.28 Then she ordered her soldiers to make bundles of sticks in order to fill in the moat around the town.29 All of this was done in sight of the Troyennes, and these actions denoted that soon there was to be a serious offensive action against the town. This would mean death and destruction; it would also mean that, according to the traditional laws of war, the dauphin, without impunity, could deal as harshly with the town’s inhabitants as he chose after what would be their inevitable surrender, for they had forced the increase in violence. They held out only until morning, for according to Simon Charles, ‘Joan cried “to the attack”, signifying that [her soldiers] were to put the sticks into the moat. And seeing this, the citizens of Troyes, fearing any attack, sent to negotiate a surrender with the king. And the king made a surrender pact with the citizens, and he entered the town of Troyes with great ceremony, Joan carrying her standard next to him.’30 After a victory procession through the streets, the dauphin dealt mercifully and without punishment with the Troyennes, who quickly resupplied his army. Again, no blood had been shed.

On 12 July, the French army again set off towards Reims. Further villages, Arcy-sur-Aube and Lettrée, submitted to Joan and the dauphin. Perceval de Cagny claimed that villages had done this there and elsewhere, ‘because the Maid always sent her standard to those she wished to submit and said to those in each fortification she passed: “Surrender yourselves to the King of Heaven and to gentle King Charles.”’31 The townspeople of Châlons-sur-Marne, the next large town on the route, also opened their gates and welcomed the soon-to-be Charles VII. Charles had sent a herald forward to them, offering amnesty in return for capitulation, and their bishop greeted him warmly when the army arrived.32 At Châlons, Joan was back home, or at least as near to it as she had been since she had left Vaucouleurs the previous February. Several from her home town traveled to visit her there. One of these, a farmer, Gérardin d’Épinal said that he went there specifically to meet with the girl who had once told him that she had a secret which she could not divulge to him because he was a ‘Burgundian’. Now, he recalled, she greeted him and his four traveling companions warmly and spoke with them. He remembered that she told him at that time that ‘she feared nothing except treason’.33 Was this a prophecy of what would happen to her in the future?

On Saturday 16 July, Joan, the dauphin, his court, and his army arrived at Reims. The next day, the dauphin was crowned as King Charles VII of France. One member of Charles’s court, Simon Charles, testified that as they approached the city, the dauphin began to worry that it, deep in Burgundian territory, might choose to hold out against him. Again, Joan comforted him:

Joan said to the king: ‘Do not doubt, as the burgesses of the town of Reims will come to meet with you.’ But the king feared the resistence of those of Reims because they did not have artillery . . . nor machines to place in siege, if they were to rebel. And Joan told the king that he ought to proceed boldly and not doubt, because, if he proceeded strongly, he would obtain his entire kingdom.

Again, Joan was correct, the courtier concluded, for even ‘before they approached Reims, the burgesses had surrendered to him’.34

There seemed in fact to have been no opposition whatsoever in Reims to the crowning of the king. As Joan and Charles entered the town, they were greeted with cheers. Knowing of this possibility and also of their inability to prevent it, the English had tried to strip the cathedral of its liturgical vestments and vessels. They had not been able to do so completely and had left behind the most important and sacred vial of oil – which had been secreted away by monks loyal to the dauphin – traditionally used for the consecration of French kings since Clovis. Four knights had been appointed as guardians of this vial: the marshal de Boussac, the Admiral of France, the lord of Graville, and Gilles de Rais. All had been present in numerous of Joan’s victories. With the guardians marched a lengthy procession of canons, bishops, and ecclesiastics. Ten of these represented the twelve peers of France, five laymen and five ecclesiastics. Others, including the duke of Alençon and the Bastard of Orléans, carried the royal insignia: the crown, the golden spurs, the scepter, and the ‘hand of justice’. Regnault of Chartres, the archbishop of Reims, performed the ceremony, with Georges de la Trémoïlle standing nearby. Where was Joan? She was by the king’s side, dressed in her armor and carrying her standard. (Later, at her trial when she was asked why she had carried her standard during the coronation, she answered: ‘It had suffered for this; there was good reason that it had this honor.’35) Once the ceremony was concluded and the king was crowned, Joan did homage to him. The Journal du siège d’Orléans records:

When the Maid saw that the king had been consecrated and crowned, she knelt before him, in front of all of the lords standing around them, and she embraced his legs, saying as she cried warm tears: ‘Gentle king, the pleasure of God has been executed. He Who wished that I relieve the siege of Orléans, and Who brought you into this city of Reims to receive your holy consecration, demonstrated that you are the true king and the one to whom the kingdom should belong.’ And there was a great pity from all who saw this.36

Joan of Arc had fulfilled the second task of her mission: she had crowned the dauphin king of France. She had stood next to him during the crowning, and she had wept with joy when it was completed. She had reached the pinnacle of power, prestige, and sanctity. Nothing, it seemed, could bring her down.