The Bastard of Orleans: “After the deliverance of Orleans, the Maid, with me and the other captains of war, went to seek the King who was at the castle of Loches, to ask him for armed forces in order to recover the castles and towns situated on the river Loire, that is to say Meung, Beaugency, Jargeau, so as to clear the way and make it safe for him to go to Rheims for his coronation. She urged the King eagerly and often to hasten and not to delay any longer. From that time he used all possible diligence, and he sent me, as likewise the Duke of Alençon and the other captains, with Joan, to recover the said towns and castles. . . . After the liberation of the town of Orleans the English gathered a great army to defend the towns and castles in question and those which they held. . . .” (R. 133–134)
The German chronicle which we have already quoted gives some details about the meeting between Joan and the King at Loches: “She took her banner in her hand and rode to the King and they encountered. Then the young girl bowed her head before the King as much as she could and the King at once bade her raise it. And it was thought that he would readily have kissed her in his joy. This came to pass the Wednesday before Pentecost (May 11, 1429) and she remained with him until after the twenty-third day of May. Then the King held council on what he should do, for the young girl still wanted to take him to Rheims and crown him and proclaim him King. The King came round to her opinion. He set out hoping to win Meung and Jargeau. God willed it so and it came to pass.” (Q. iv, 497)
It was, of course, obvious that they ought to take advantage of the effects, both moral and material, produced by their victory, and to continue the campaign with the army which had been gathered. But what should be their objective? From the strategic point of view, it would have seemed natural to attempt the reconquest of Normandy and La Beauce, in order to make an effort to regain Paris.
The Bastard of Orleans: “I remember that after the victories of which I have spoken, the lords of the blood royal, and the captains, wanted the King to go into Normandy and not to Rheims, but the Maid was still of opinion that we should go to Rheims to consecrate the King, and she gave reason for her opinion saying that once the King should be crowned and anointed (sacré) the strength of his adversaries would go on declining and that at last they would not be able to harm him or his kingdom. All rallied to her opinion.” (R.135)
TO RHEIMS AND BACK
The route to Rheims is marked by the continuous line: the return is
marked by the dotted line.
This decision was taken during a council held by the King and into which Joan burst in order to impose her will.
The Bastard of Orleans: “I well remember that when the King was at the castle of Loches, I went with the Maid, after the raising of the siege of Orleans, and while the King was in his chamber, in which were with him the lord Christophe de Harcourt, the bishop of Castres, confessor to the King (Gérard Machet) and the lord of Trèves who was otherwise [sic] chancellor of France (Robert le Maçon), the Maid, before entering into the chamber, knocked on the door, and, being in, fell on her knees and embraced the King’s legs, saying these words or others like them: ‘Noble Dauphin, hold not such, and such long, council but go to Rheims as soon as possible to receive a fitting crown (digne couronne, presumably “crown worthy of you”).’ Then the sire, Christophe de Harcourt, consulting with her, asked her if it was her counsel (i.e. her ‘voice’) which told her that and Joan answered ‘yes’ and that she was receiving pressing counsel on this subject. Then Christophe said to Joan, ‘Will you not tell us here, in the King’s presence, how (in what manner) your counsel speaks to you?’ She answered, flushing, ‘I see well enough what you would know and will tell you readily.’ The King said to Joan: ‘Joan, let it please you to say what he demands in the presence of those who are here.’ And she answered the King, yes, and said these words or others like them: that when something was not going well because people would not easily repose their faith in her as to what was said to her from God, she went apart and prayed to God, complaining to Him that those to whom she spoke did not readily believe her; and, her prayer to God made, she heard a voice which said to her: ‘Daughter-God (Fille-Dé), go, go, go, I shall be at your aid, go.’ And when she heard this voice, she felt a great joy and desired to be always in that state. And what is more impressive, in thus repeating these words of her voices, she herself exulted in a marvellous fashion, raising her eyes to Heaven.” (R. 134–135)
It is manifest here that it was Joan who forced them to a decision: while they were hesitating which way to go and opinions in Council were diverse, she it was, as all the documents prove, who carried her point and so got the royal army away to Rheims, with the object of crowning the King.
Meanwhile that army had been enlarged by an accretion of volunteers. And throughout the whole course of the Loire campaign, which was to take the army into Rheims, this “snowball” effect continued, as contemporary observers noted:
Gobert Thibault: “Joan had the fighting men assembled between the town of Troyes and that of Auxerre, and there were many there, for all followed her.” (R.114)
That was the essence of Joan’s mode of action. As it was magnificently expressed by the poet Alain Chartier:
“She raised (all) spirits towards the hope of better times” (op. cit.)
She restored their soul to a disunited and discouraged people who had lost all heart.
There is an echo of that ardour which was generated by her presence in the letter of a young gentleman, Guy de Laval, who came with his brother André to join the royal army at Saint-Aignanen-Berry. These two brothers had an illustrious lineage since their grandmother, Anne de Laval, had been married to the Constable Bertrand Duguesclin. De Laval writes:
“Sunday, I arrived at Saint-Aignan, where the king is, and I sent to seek and to come to my lodgings the lord of Trèves who went away to the castle—to signify to the King that I was come and to learn when it would please him that I go to him; I had answer to go there as soon as I pleased and he made me right good cheer (made me very welcome) and spoke many good words to me. . . . And arrived the Monday at Selles my lord the Duke of Alençon who had a very great company; and today I won a game of fives with him. . . . And it is said here that my lord the Constable is coming also with six hundred men-at-arms and four hundred men of draft (hommes de traits—presumably ‘pioneers’ dragging the supplies) and that Jean de la Roche comes also, and that the King never had so great a company as are hoped for here (or expected here); nor ever did men go with a better will to a task than they go to this one.”
He goes on to give his mother a long account of how he has seen her; who had obviously excited his admiration and whom he had impatiently been waiting to see:
“Monday I left the King’s to go Selles-en-Berry at four leagues from Saint-Aignan and the King summoned before him the Maid who had been hitherto at Selles. And some say that this was done in my favour, that I might see her. And the Maid made my brother and me very good welcome, armed at all points save the head, and lance in hand. And after we were settled in Selles, I went to her lodging to see her; she sent for wine and told me that she would soon have me drinking wine in Paris. This seems a thing divine by her deeds, and also from seeing and hearing her. She set out Monday at vespers from Selle to go to Romorantin three leagues ahead. . . . And I saw her mount her horse, armed all in white excepting her head, a little axe in her hand (riding) a big, black charger which, at the door of her lodgings, cavorted very wildly and would not let her mount; then she said, ‘Take him to the cross,’ which was before the church, beside the road, and there she mounted without the horse moving, as if he were tied. And then she turned towards the door of the church which was quite near and said: ‘You, the priests and churchmen, make procession and prayers to God.’ And then she turned again into her road, saying, ‘Forward, forward’ (literally ‘Draw forward, draw forward’), her standard unfurled, which was carried by a pretty page, and she having in her hand a little axe. And her brother, who came a week ago, departed likewise with her, all armoured in white. . . . The Maid told me at her lodgings, when I went there to see her, that she had sent to you, grandmother, a very small golden ring, that it was a very small thing and that she would rather have sent you a better, considering your renown.” (Q. v, 105–111)
This letter, which was written on June 8, 1429, gives a clear idea of the general tone and atmosphere which distinguished the French court at the time. And the Burgundian chroniclers give us the reverse of the coin, the discouragement which had overtaken the English army.
“By the renown of Joan the Maid,” wrote Jean de Wavrin, “the courage of the English was much impaired and fallen off. They saw, it seemed to them, their fortune turn its wheel sharply against them, for they had already lost several towns and fortresses which had returned to their obedience to the King of France, principally by the undertakings of the Maid, some by force, others by treaty; they saw their men stricken down and did not now find them of such or so firm and prudent words as they were wont to be. Thus they were all, it seemed to them, very desirous of withdrawing on to the Normandy marches, abandoning what they held in the country of France (en lieu de France) and thereabout.” (Q. v, 418)
This piece of evidence is of particular value since the witness in question was well-informed. Jean de Wavrin, bastard son of the Robert de Wavrin who was killed at Agincourt, was chief of a company of mercenaries employed sometimes by the Duke of Burgundy and at others by the King of England: he fought in person at the battle of Patay, as we shall see.
To command the Loire campaign, the King chose the Duke of Alençon who directed all the operations as Dunois had directed those of Orleans. Meanwhile, the English had gathered their troops at Jargeau, or rather the remnant of the forces which had fought at Orleans, under Suffolk, while Bedford gave orders for the raising of another army which, under Falstaff’s command, was to reinforce Suffolk.
The Duke of Alençon: “The King’s men were gathered together to the number of six hundred lances, who wanted to go to the town of Jargeau which the English held in occupation; and that night they slept in a wood. On the morrow came other soldiers of the king led by the lord Bastard of Orleans and the lord Florent d’Illiers (captain of Chateaudun) and some other captains. Once all united they found that they numbered about twelve hundred lances, and there was then argument among the captains, because some were of opinion that they should assault the town, others of the contrary opinion, assuring that the English had great strength and were there in great number. Joan, seeing that there was difficulty between them, told them that they should fear no multitude, and should make no difficulty about attacking the English, for God guided their business. She said that if she were not sure that God was directing this business, she would rather keep the sheep than expose herself to such perils. Which being heard, they made their way to the town of Jargeau, thinking to take the suburbs and there spend the night; knowing this, the English came out to meet them and at the beginning drove back the King’s men. Which seeing, Joan, taking her standard, went in to the attack exhorting the soldiers to have good courage. And they so wrought that that night the King’s soldiers lodged in the Jargeau suburbs. I think that God guided this business, for that night there was hardly any guard set, so that if the English had come out of the town, the King’s soldiers would have been in very great peril.
“The King’s people prepared artillery and in the morning had the bombards and the machines dragged up against the town and, after several days, they held council among themselves as to what they should do against the English, who were in the town of Jargeau, to recover the town. At the time when they were holding council . . . it was decided that the town should be stormed and the heralds cried the assault. And Joan herself said to me: ‘Forward, gentle Duke, to the attack!’ and as it seemed to me that it was premature to begin the assault so swiftly, Joan said to me: ‘Doubt not, the time is come when it pleases God,’ and that one must act when God willed: ‘Act, and God will act,’ and saying to me later: ‘Ah, gentle Duke, wast thou afeared? Knowest thou not that I promised thy wife to bring thee back safe and sound?’ for in truth when I left my wife to go with Joan to the army, my wife said to Joanette (Jeanette) that she was greatly afraid for me and that I had formerly been a prisoner and that it had been necessary to give so much money for my ransom that she would readily have implored me to stay behind. Then Joan answered her: ‘Lady, fear not, I will bring him back to you safe and sound and in such state or better than now he is.’ ”
The Duke continued,
“During the assault on the town of Jargeau, Joan said to me at a moment when I stood in a certain spot, that I should withdraw from that spot and that if I did not withdraw, ‘that machine . . .’ showing me a machine which was in the town, ‘will kill thee’. I withdrew and shortly thereafter, at that spot whence I had withdrawn, someone was killed who was called my lord de Lude. That put me into a great fear and I marvelled at the sayings of Joan after all these events. Thereafter Joan went in to the assault and I with her. At the moment when the soldiers were invading the town, the Earl of Suffolk caused it to be cried that he wished to speak to me, but it was not heard and the assault was completed. Joan was on a (scaling) ladder, holding in hand her standard. This standard was pierced and Joan herself struck on the head by a stone which shattered on her light helmet. She herself was stricken to the ground and as she rose up she said to the soldiers, ‘Friends, friends, up, our Lord has condemned the English, in this hour they are ours, be of good heart!’ And at once the town of Jargeau was taken and the English withdrew towards the bridges and the French pursued them and in the pursuit were killed of them more than eleven hundred.”
That happened on June 10, 1429, whereafter the French troops marched towards Meung and Beaugency.
The Duke of Alençon: “I spent that night with some soldiers in a church near Meung where I was in great peril. And on the morrow we went towards Beaugency, and in the fields we found other soldiers of the king and there an attack was made against the English who were in Beaugency. After this attack the English abandoned the town and entered into the castle, and guards were placed facing the castle in order that they might not get out. We were before the castle when the news reached us that the lord constable was coming with soldiers: myself, Joan and the others in the army, we were ill content, wishing to withdraw from the town, for we had orders not to receive the lord constable in our company. I told Joan that if the constable came, I should go away.”
The constable in question was Arthur de Richemont who was then in disgrace. The King had forbidden him to reappear at court. The fact is that there were struggles between rival influences about the King’s person throughout Charles’s whole reign; and Richemont’s rival was the famous La Tremoille who, at the time, was the royal favourite. Arthur de Richemont was a powerful personality, as the future was to show. His chronicler, Guillaume Gruel, a Breton like himself and his companion in many adventures, tells, in a quite entertaining style, how Richemont, having decided to go to the King’s help despite the latter, nothing nor anybody could make him change his mind.
Guillaume Gruel: “My lord took his way to draw nigh to Orleans, and as soon as the King heard it he sent my lord de la Jaille to meet him and he found him at Loudun. He drew him aside and told him that the King ordered him to return to his house and that he be not so bold as to advance further, and that if he passed beyond (there) the King would fight him. Then, my said lord answered that what he did was for the good of the kingdom and the King and that he would see who tried to fight him. Then the lord de la Jaille said to him, ‘My lord, it seems to me that you will do very well,’ and took my lord his way and came near to the river of Vienne and passed it by fording and from there drew towards Amboise. And there learned that the siege was at Beaugency and took the straight road directly towards La Beauce to go and join them who laid the siege.” (Q. iv, 316)
The Duke of Alençon: “On the morrow, before the arrival of the lord constable, came news that the English were approaching in great number, in company with whom was the lord de Talbot; and the soldiers cried alarm, then Joan said to me—for I wanted to withdraw because of the coming of the lord constable—that there was need to have help*. In the end the English yielded up the castle by a composition and withdrew with a safe conduct which I granted them, I who, at that time, was the King’s lieutenant in the army. And while the English were retreating came one from La Hire’s company who said to me, as to the King’s captains, that the English were coming, that we should soon be face to face with them and that they were about one thousand men-at-arms in number.” (R.152)
This referred to the army raised by Bedford and commanded by Falstaff. It is obvious that, as Joan had said, “there was need to have help”.
Meanwhile an agreement had been reached, not without difficulty, between the captains of the royal army and Arthur de Richemont. Guillaume Gruel has something to say about the meeting between de Richemont and the Maid: “He spoke to her and said: Joan, I have been told that you want to fight me. I do not know if you are from God or not. If you are from God I fear nothing from you, for God knows my good-will. If you are from the Devil, I fear you even less.”
And the Duke of Alençon completes the account of this meeting thus: “Joan said to the lord constable: ‘Ah! handsome* constable, you are not come for my sake, but because you are come you will be welcome.’ ”
It was felt by all that they were at a moment of decision and that the junction effected between Talbot’s troops and Falstaff’s, up river at Janville, put the royal forces in a position of some danger. Here we may let the Burgundians do the explaining:
Jean de Wavrin: “You might have seen on all hands amidst that Beauce, which is so ample and wide, the English riding in very handsome order. Then, when they came to about a league from Meung and quite near to Beaugency, the French warned of their coming, with about six thousand combatants, of which were chiefs Joan the Maid, the Duke of Alençon, the Bastard of Orleans, the Marshal de La Fayette, La Hire, Poton and other captains, ranked themselves and put themselves in battle on a little hillock the better to see the countenance (disposition) of the English. The latter, seeing clearly that the French were ranged in order of battle, believing that in fact they would come against them to fight, gave order particularly issued by King Henry of England that every man dismount and that all the archers have their pikes stuck into the ground before them, as they are accustomed to do when they expect to be attacked. Then they sent two heralds to the said French whom they saw not moving from their place, saying that there were three knights who would fight them if they had the boldness to descend from the hill and come to them. Answer was made by the Maid’s people: ‘Go to your quarters for today, for it is rather late. But tomorrow, if it please God and Our Lady, we shall take a closer look at you.’ ” (Q. iv, 416–417)
The night of June 17th followed this challenge, both sides remaining in the field, the English camped towards Meung, the French in Beaugency. Statements subsequently made by Alençon and Dunois give us an idea of the uneasiness of the French captains. Indeed, that night spent by the two armies in their respective positions represents a case of what we should now call History in suspense.
The Bastard of Orleans: “These English combined into a single army in such fashion that the French saw that the English were taking up order of battle to fight. They therefore put their army into battle (order) and prepared to wait for the English attack. Then the lord Duke of Alençon, in the presence of the lord constable, of myself and several others, asked Joan what he ought to do. She answered him in a loud voice, saying, ‘Have all good spurs,’ which hearing those present asked Joan: ‘What say you? Are we going to turn our backs on them?’ Then Joan answered: ‘No. But it will be the English who will not defend themselves and will be vanquished and you will need good spurs to run after them.’ And it was so, for they took to flight and there were killed or captured of their number more than four thousand.” (R.134)
The Duke of Alençon: “Many of the King’s men were afraid, saying that it would be good to send for the horses. Joan said: ‘In God’s name, we must fight them; were they hung from the clouds, we should beat them, for God has sent them to us that we may punish them,’ affirming that she was sure of the victory and saying in French: ‘The gentle king will have this day greater victory than he ever had and my counsel has told me that they are all ours.’ ”
For an account of the actual battle of Patay, which was to make June 18th an important stage in the march on Rheims, we will pass the word to the Burgundian Jean de Wavrin, who was well-informed, since on that day he fought in the English ranks. He tells how the captains heard that the castle of Beaugency had surrendered: “Then, it was hastily ordered in all quarters by the English captains that . . . they were to make their way out into the fields and that as they reached the fields outside the town (of Meung where they were making a stand) every man should fall in to order of battle, which thing was done. . . . The van-guard set out first of all, which was led by an English knight who bore a white standard, then were placed between van-guard and battle (main body) the artillery, supplies and merchandise of all kinds. After came the battle of which was leader messire John Falstaff, the lord de Talbot, messire Thomas Rameston and others. Then rode the rear-guard who were all pure English.
“This company took the road, riding in good order towards Patay, which was reached in about a league, and there stopped, for came warning, in truth, by the runners from their rear-guard, that they had seen coming many men after them whom they thought to be French. Then, to know the truth of this, the English lords sent riding certain of their men who at once returned and related that the French were coming swiftly after them, riding in great strength, and so they were seen coming a little time thereafter. It was ordered by our captains that those of the van-guard, the sutlers, stores and artillery should go forward to take up a position all along by the woods (or hedges) which were near Patay. The thing was so done. Then marched the battle until it came between two strong coppices (or hedges), by which it was likely that the French pass, and there the lord de Talbot, seeing the place to be quite advantageous, said that he would dismount with five hundred picked archers, and remain there, guarding the passage against the French until the battle and rear-guard had joined together. And the said Talbot took his place at the woods of Patay with the van-guard which awaited them. And thus the lord de Talbot, guarding this narrow passage against the enemy, hoped to rejoin the battle by marching outside the woods . . . but it happened otherwise.
“Tensely came the French after their enemy, whom they could not yet see nor knew the place where they were, when it happened that their skirmishers saw a stag came out of the woods, which made for Patay and plunged into the midst of the English battle whence arose a great cry, for they knew not that their enemy was so close to them. Hearing this cry the French scouts were made certain that there were the English, and immediately afterwards saw them quite plainly. They sent certain of their number to tell their captains what they had seen and found, letting them know that they were riding forward in good order and that the hour had come to lay on. They (the captains) promptly prepared themselves in all respects and rode so hard that they came fully in sight of the English.
“When, then, the English saw the French draw so near, they hurried as much as they could in order to reach the woods before their coming, but they were able only to accomplish so much that, before they had joined up with their van-guard at the woods, the English (presumably ‘the other English’: the passage is involved and somewhat obscure) had come to the narrow passage where lay the lord de Talbot. And then, messire John Falstaff, riding towards the van-guard to join up with them, those of the van-guard thought that all was lost and that the men of the battle were in flight. Hence, the captain of the van-guard, taking it for true that it was so, with his white standard, he and his men, took flight and abandoned the woods. Hence, messire John Falstaff, seeing the danger of this flight, knowing that all was going very badly, had the notion of saving himself and it was said to him in my presence that he should take care of his person, for the battle was lost for them. And before he had gone, the French had thrown to the ground the lord de Talbot, had made him prisoner and all his men being dead, and were the French already so far advanced in the battle that they could at will take or kill whomsoever they wanted to. And finally the English were there undone at small loss to the French. . . . Which seeing, the lord Falstaff left with a very small company . . . and made his way towards Etampes, and me, I followed him as my captain whom the Duke of Bedford had ordered me to obey. We came, at about the hour of midnight, to Etampes where we spent the night, and on the morrow to Corbeil.” (Q. iv, 421–424)
The Burgundians themselves estimated the loss on the English side at about two thousand. On the French side there had been three killed. Falstaff was in flight, Talbot a prisoner, the English army decimated.
“Thus,” says Jean de Wavrin, “had the French the victory at the field of Patay where they passed that night, thanking Our Lord for their fine venture. . . . Because this place was so called, this battle will for ever bear as its name: the day of Patay. And they went away with their prey (booty) and prisoners to Orleans, where they were generally welcomed by all the people. After this fine victory, went away all the French captains who were there, and with them Joan the Maid, to King Charles who mightily rejoiced and greatly thanked them for their good services and diligence.”
The Journal d’un Bourgeois de Paris has an echo of the panic which spread among the “Burgundians” of that city when the news of the victory of Patay reached them: “The Tuesday before Saint John’s Day (June 21, 1429) Paris learned in great uneasiness that the Armagnacs were going to enter it that night, but nothing of the kind happened. Since then, day and night the Parisians have strengthened the watch and fortified the walls, placing on them a quantity of cannon and other artillery.” (p. 91–92)
More than ever, Joan was now insisting that they should make for Rheims without further delay. “We went back to the King who deliberated whether to go to the town of Rheims for his coronation and sacring.” At last the decision was taken and the troops assembled at Gien, whence, following the custom obtaining in peace-time, the King sent a letter of invitation to all the good towns of his kingdom and to the great vassals both ecclesiastical and lay, calling upon them to be present at his coronation. Joan, too, dictated a letter from Gien to the inhabitants of the town of Tournai, the only place in the north which, with Vaucouleurs, remained loyal to the King. Unfortunately the original of this letter was destroyed with the greater part of the town’s archives when Tournai was burned during the war of 1940. Another letter, also dictated by her, but the text of which has not been preserved, was sent to the Duke of Burgundy, urging him to come and join the other lords of the blood royal in paying homage to the King of France. A well-informed witness, Perceval de Cagny, friend and later chronicler of the Duke of Alençon, tells us of Joan’s impatience during those days of decision:
“The King was at the place of Gien until Wednesday twenty-ninth day of June. And the Maid was mighty grieved at his long lingering in that place because of certain men of his household who advised him against undertaking the road to Rheims, saying that there were many cities and towns closed (to him), castles and places very well garrisoned with English and Burgundians between Gien and Rheims. The Maid said that she knew this very well and that she took no account of all that, and from disappointment she left her lodgings and went out and camped in the fields two days before the King’s departure. And although the King had no money to pay his army, all the knights, esquires, men of war and of the commonality did not refuse to go with and serve him for that journey in the Maid’s company, saying that wheresoever she went they would go, and she said: ‘By my martin, I will lead the gentle King Charles and his company safely and he will be crowned at Rheims.’ ”
The first stage was Auxerre, where the army arrived on June 30th. The town belonged to the Duke of Burgundy, who had appointed a municipality charged with its administration. For three days the troops camped beneath its walls while embassies between the King and the people of Auxerre went back and forth.
Monstrelet: “Finally, there was treaty between the two parties; and the people of the town of Auxerre promised that they would pay to the King the same obedience as should those of the towns of Troyes, Chalons and Rheims. And thus, providing the King’s people with victuals and other goods for their money, they remained at peace and the King held them excused for that time.” (Q. iv, 378)
The second important stage happened to be the town of Troyes itself, the very town in which, nine years before, had been signed that shameful treaty which disinherited the Dauphin Charles in favour of the King of England. What was the attitude of its citizens going to be? For, quite apart from their feelings in the matter, they might well fear reprisals. It was at least possible that the Burgundian garrison, five or six hundred strong, would offer active resistance.
From Saint Phal, where Joan camped on July 4th at twenty-two kilometres from Troyes, two letters were sent, one from her and one from the King himself. He promised to “put all in forget-fulness” while informing the inhabitants that “his intention was to go on the morrow to see the said town of Troyes”. To this end he asked and commanded them to “render him that obedience which they owed him and to dispose themselves to receive him without making difficulties and without fear of things past”.
As for Joan’s letter, it bears the imprint of her particular style: “Loyal Frenchmen, come out to meet King Charles and let there be no failing and fear not for your persons nor your property if (you) do so; and if (you) do not so I promise you and certify on your lives that we shall enter with the help of God into all the towns which should be of the holy kingdom, and there make good and lasting peace (y ferons bonne paix ferme), let who will come against it. (I) commend you to God. God have you in his keeping if it please Him. Reply briefly (Réponse brièvement).”
The first move made by the people of Troyes was to send to Joan a certain Franciscan, Brother Richard by name, who was getting himself much talked of at the time. The Journal d’un Bourgeois de Paris mentions his presence in the town during the past April, where much attention had been paid to his predictions; but he had had to leave in haste, threatened with being thrown into prison by the Burgundians. Joan herself has left us an account of the encounters at Saint-Phal:
Question: Do you know Brother Richard?
JOAN: I had never seen him when I arrived before Troyes.
Question: How did Brother Richard receive you?
JOAN: They of the town of Troyes, as I think, sent him to me saying that they feared lest I be not a thing of God. And when he came towards me, as he approached he made signs of the cross and sprinkled holy water, and I said to him: “Approach boldly, I shall not fly away.” (C. 98)
There were some days of waiting: neither in the town, nor in the King’s camp were all of the same opinion. The people of Troyes sent two letters to their neighbours of Rheims, in which they affirmed their willingness to remain loyal to the oath which they had taken to King Henry and to the Duke of Burgundy; they also let their fear of reprisals from the garrison appear between the lines: “Whatsoever be our will, we the inhabitants, we must look to the men of war who are in the town, stronger than us.” As for Joan’s letter, it was cast into the fire and left unanswered.
The army’s situation was critical. “There was in the army great dearness of bread and other victuals, for there were there seven or eight thousand men who had eaten no bread for eight days and were living principally on beans and on wheat rubbed out of the ear.” Thus a contemporary chronicler, the Herald Berri (Q. iv, 73). The time was, in fact, that of the harvest.
Moreover, the army’s leaders were divided as to what they should do.
The Bastard of Orleans: “The place where the King made a halt with his army was before the city of Troyes. Once there, he held council with the lords of his blood and the other captains of war to consider whether they should set themselves before the city and lay siege to it or take it, or if it would be better to march past it, going directly to Rheims and leaving this city of Troyes. The King’s council was divided between diverse opinions and they wondered what was best to be done. Then the Maid came and entered into the council and spoke these words or nearly: ‘Noble Dauphin, order that your people go and besiege the town of Troyes and stay no longer in council, for, in God’s name, within three days I will take you into the city of Troyes by love or by force or by courage, and false Burgundy will stand amazed (sera toute stupéfaite).’ Then the Maid crossed at once with the King’s army and left the encampment beside the moats, and made admirable dispositions such as could not have done (better) two or three of the most famous and experienced soldiers. And she worked so well that night that on the morrow the bishop and the citizens of the city made their obedience to the King, shaking and trembling. And subsequently it was learned that from the moment when she advised the King not to go away from the city, the inhabitants lost heart and did nothing but seek refuge and flee into the churches. This city being reduced to royal obedience, the King went away to Rheims where he found total obedience and he was there consecrated and crowned.” (R.136)
This deposition is confirmed by that of Simon Charles who was likewise present: “At the moment when the King was before the town of Troyes, and while the soldiers saw that they had no more victuals and were discouraged and ready to withdraw, Joan told the King that he should doubt not and that on the morrow he would have the town. Then she took her standard; many foot soldiers followed her to whom she gave order to make faggots to fill the moats. They made many of them, and on the morrow Joan cried the assault, signifying that they should put the faggots into the moats. Seeing this, the inhabitants of Troyes, fearing attack, sent to the King to negotiate a composition. And the King made composition with the inhabitants and made his entry into Troyes in great pomp, Joan carrying her standard beside the King.” (R. 105)
This entry into the town took place on Sunday, July 10th, after negotiations carried on under the aegis of Jean Leguisé, bishop of Troyes, whom later, in gratitude, the King was to ennoble.
On July 12th the army resumed its march; on the 14th it was before Châlons. But as the royal advance towards Rheims became more and more decided, so hesitations in the towns diminished. Thus although the people of Châlons had hastened to send the news from Troyes to the people of Rheims, and to declare (it may simply have been a matter of form to cover them in case of an expected attack by the English): “That they had the intention of holding out and resisting with all their strength on meeting with the said enemies,” that is the Dauphin’s people, yet when the royal herald, Montjoie, appeared with letters from this same Dauphin, the bishop of Châlons, Jean de Montbéliard, went out in person to meet Charles VII and delivered over to him the city keys. On the same day Charles made his entry into the town, and all the chroniclers agree that the inhabitants were joyous at his coming.
At Châlons occurred a moving encounter: already the roads were busy with groups of people making their way from all the towns to which Charles had written announcing his coronation and sacring; among them, as may well be imagined, the people of Domremy were not the last to come running; for was it not to one of their number, still known to them as Jeanette, that the whole astonishing progress was due? Jean Moreau, her godfather, recalls this encounter in his deposition: “In the month of July, I went to Châlons, for it was said that the King was going to Rheims to have himself crowned. And there I found Joan and she gave me a red coat (veste) which she was wearing.” (R.69)
Among her fellow townsmen was Domremy’s “Burgundian”, Gérardin d’Epinal: “I saw her afterwards at Châlons,” he said, “with four from our town, and she said that she feared nothing excepting treason.” (R.81)
And at last the final stage, Rheims itself, the town of the sacring of Kings.
Simon Charles: “The King went out of Troyes with his army and made for Châlons and thereafter for Rheims. As he was afraid that he might experience resistance at Rheims, Joan said to him, ‘Doubt not; for the burgesses of Rheims will come out to meet you’; and before they drew near to the city of Rheims, the burgesses came over to him (se rendirent; surrendered). The King feared resistance from them of Rheims, for he had no artillery nor machines for a siege if they showed themselves rebellious. And Joan told the King to advance boldly and to fear nothing, for if he would advance courageously he would recover all his kingdom.” (R.105)
It was in the castle of Sept-Saulx, an enormous dungeon built in the twelfth century by the ancestors of the archbishop of Rheims, Regnault de Chartres, that Charles VII received a deputation of the city’s notables who came to offer him “full and entire obedience as to their sovereign”. On the evening of the same day, July 16th, he made his entry into the town to cries of “Noel! Noel!” uttered by the population. The coronation and sacring were performed on the morrow.
For Joan this ceremony had a decisive importance. One of the King’s councillors recalled this at the Trial of Rehabilitation.
François Garivel: “When Joan was asked why she called the King ‘dauphin’ and not ‘king’ she said that she would not call him ‘king’ until he had been crowned and consecrated at Rheims, in the town where she had made up her mind to take him.” (R. 106)
On this point, however, she was only giving expression to what was commonly believed in her day: it was the sacring which made the King. And this argument took precedence of all strategic considerations, and alone explains the armed ride through Anglo-Burgundian country with the constant risk of coming up against the garrison forces which had remained in the towns, or roving bands of free-lances. Once crowned the King would be King indeed. Whereas, in his going out he had been obliged to halt and negotiate terms before each town, on his return he would meet with no obstacles. Wherever he appeared he was to find that his rights were recognized at once; and city gates opened to him as he approached. The English, likewise, felt, and felt cruelly, the effects of the new situation created by Charles’s sacring. They attempted to counter it by bringing the boy-King Henry VI to France (April 23, 1430), and, six months after Joan’s death, crowning him not, indeed, at Rheims, now loyal to Charles, but in Paris (December 16, 1431). It was a pointless gesture, however, since for the mass of the French people Charles VII was thenceforth the Lord’s anointed, legitimate heir to the kingdom.
Everybody knows Joan’s famous reply to the question touching the coronation at Rheims: “Why was your standard more carried in the church at Rheims at the consecration of the King than those of other captains?”
Joan: “It had borne the burden, it was quite right that it receive the honour (il avait été à la peine, c’était bien raison qu’il fût à l’honneur).”
After having described the sacring, one chronicler shows us Joan kneeling before the King “and embracing him round the legs, said to him whilst shedding copious tears: ‘Gentle King, now is done God’s pleasure, Who willed that I raise the siege of Orleans and that I bring you to this city of Rheims to receive your holy sacring, showing that you are true King and him to whom the kingdom of God should belong.’ And causing great pity in those who beheld her.” (J.S.O. 186)
Among the witnesses of this scene were two who must, surely, have been more moved by that than the rest: her father and mother. The Rheims city account books mention their presence, and note that the municipality undertook to pay their expenses at the inn, the Ane rayé, where they put up.
This chapter raises no particular difficulties from the historical point of view. For the coronation ceremony reference may be made to the well-known work of J. de Pange, Le Roi très chrétien, Paris, 1949. We gave some details on this matter in our own work, written in collaboration with M. Rambaud, Telle fut Jeanne d’Arc, Paris, Fasquelle, 1957, pp. 160, et seq. Recourse may also be had to Henri Godart’s Jeanne d’Arc à Reims, Rheims, 1887.
Curiously enough an attempt has been made to put forward the view that family affection played no part in Joan’s life. The authentic texts prove the contrary. We may begin with those which show us two of Joan’s brothers, Pierre and Jean, going to join her in Tours and taking their part in her feats of arms; one of them at least was to remain with her up to and including the time of her imprisonment. This was Pierre; Jean, on the other hand, cuts a rather sorry figure in history, for his principal aptitude seems to have been in exploiting his sister’s renown for his own ends. These two persons are very carefully studied in Grosdidier des Mattons’ Le Mystère de Jeanne d’Arc, Paris, 1935.
But there are very numerous small pointers to the affection in which Joan held her family: she was fond of kissing the ring which her parents had given her, “for her pleasure and for the honour of her father and mother”. She was homesick for her family (see her remark, reported by Dunois, in the next chapter). Nor did she fail to write to ask forgiveness from her people after she had left them. Moreover her affection extended to the whole village, as witness the only favour she asked of the King after the coronation: exemption from taxes for the people of Greux-Domremy.
Reciprocally, her parents’ affection for her is manifest in all sorts of ways: her father’s remarks after having dreamed “that with soldiers would depart Joan his daughter”; that maternal solicitude which, sent to her, from Puy, Brother Jean Pasquerel who became her confessor; their coming to Rheims for the coronation. And then there is, of course (see Chapter 10), that pathetic supplication uttered by Isabelle Ramée when pleading with the judges who had been appointed to investigate the evidence for rehabilitation, “I had a daughter, born in legitimate wedlock. . . .”
Guy de Laval’s letter brings out a small point which is worth commenting on: Joan’s sending of “a very small ring of gold” to Duguesclin’s widow. Joan, at a time when she was aware that she herself was renewing the exploits of a hero whose popularity was such that he knew that “all the girls of France” would spin for his ransom, and who had crystallised the kingdom’s resistance when, on a former occasion, it had nearly failed, thus paid homage to his memory. And contemporary folk legend was soon to assimilate her to the “nine preux chevaliers”* and make of her a tenth.
* Or, “we must all help each other”, i.e., instead of quarrelling.
* The word is, of course, beau. One wonders if there was a touch of hostility, of “Ah, my fine constable”. But the epithet seems to have been a common courtesy.
* The “neuf preux”, nine valiant knights—champions of French history. Bertrand Duguesclin was twice captured and ransomed, on the second occasion by the Black Prince.