“Well,” growled La Hire, “these English gentlemen do not like to show themselves, and yet it would be an easy matter to break these nutshells. I wonder if they have run away.”
“They are there, and can see us,” said Jean. “They are lying behind the walls, but they have no ordnance to use against us.”
It turned out as Jean said. The English made no assault, and the little flotilla reached the city unharmed. There was unbounded enthusiasm when the Maiden appeared with her banner at the gates. The people would have carried her in their arms had not the commander of the city forestalled them by having a horse in readiness for her. She mounted and rode in triumph to the cathedral, where a Te Deum was sung, the first which had been heard for a long time within its walls. Then she was escorted to the house of Jacques Boucher, treasurer of the Duke of Orleans, where she was to lodge. Now for the first time she put off her armor, drank a cup of wine diluted with water, and then withdrew with the wife and daughters of her host to her chamber. There was lively commotion in the streets until far into the night. All anxiety disappeared on that 29th of April, 1429. An old chronicle relates that the people and the soldiers believed an angel had come down from heaven to them. To the same extent that their despair had vanished and given place to joyous enthusiasm, courage waned in the English camp. Most of those brave soldiers, particularly the spearsmen and archers, believed the Maiden was either a messenger from heaven or from hell, either a saint or a mighty magician. Their leaders inveighed bitterly against the Dauphin because he employed unknightly weapons, weapons of hell.
On the next day Joan urged an immediate attack, but at a council of the most experienced leaders it was decided to wait at least for the arrival of the next contingent of troops from Blois. They did not altogether believe in Joan’s divine commission, but they thought it best to take advantage of the popular enthusiasm which she had aroused. Count Dunois returned to Blois to hasten reinforcements forward, and on the fourth day his banner was seen on the left bank of the Loire. His route led directly past the English encampment. Joan could no longer remain inactive. “We must go out and meet them and fetch them in,” she cried, at the same time mounting her steed, seizing her little battle-axe and banner, and riding to the gate. The knights shook their heads. No one was eager to rush directly into the jaws of the lion, for it did not seem possible that any one would come back if the English came out and attacked them.
“Now,” shouted La Hire, “no one shall say that La Hire has been outdone in courage by a woman. Forward,” he commanded, galloping after the Maiden, and followed by his little band. Count Dunois had halted some distance away, evidently awaiting help from the city. As soon as he saw the banners of the Maiden and La Hire he moved forward along the first line of intrenchments. The two forces soon met and advanced towards the city along the very front of the English camp, but such was the Englishmen’s fear of the Maiden that not one of them ventured out. No one even hurled a missile. They looked on quietly, as the little band passed their lines and safely reached the city. As further reinforcements were on their way, it was decided on the following day to attack Fort Saint Loup.
Early in the morning, while Joan, wearied by her exertions on the day before, was still sleeping, some of the captains sallied out with their troops and made a furious assault upon the fort. The English, seeing only their customary assailants, fell upon them, and after a hard struggle beat them back. At that instant the Maiden, bearing her lily banner, rode to the Burgundian gate. “Halt!” she shouted to the fugitives. “Look you, the Maiden whom God sent to you is here. Follow me to victory.” At once she plunged into the thick of battle. Her presence acted like magic on both sides. The French impetuously followed her, Daulon, Master of horse, La Hire, and two other knights, leading the first charge. The English wavered.
“Why do you hesitate?” cried Guerard, their leader. “Shame and confusion to any one who fears this country girl! Drive her back to her village and her father’s cows.”
His appeal was unheeded. The soldiers stood for a moment staring at the banner in the hand of “the witch,” and then, as if at the word of command, rushed in a panic for the protecting walls of the fort. “On, my brave ones, forward to the battle and victory,” cried Joan, as she furiously galloped after the fugitives.
“Now, soldiers of France!” said La Hire, “she is doing more than her share. On, my children! Shall we let this brave one do all the work alone?” He spurred his steed, but his heavy battle horse could not overtake the Maiden’s light courser. The next instant a single knight of La Hire’s troop flew after her, and in a few seconds his sword was waving at her side. It was Jean Renault. Enthusiasm such as he had never felt before had seized him. He was oblivious to all sense of danger. Scarcely was the last Englishman through the fortress gate before the Maiden and Jean rushed through also. The astonished English soldiers saw the lily banner in their very midst. Before they had recovered from the deadly fear it inspired, it was flying on the wall. The French poured through the gate, and victory was soon complete. Those who resisted were cut down, and the rest were taken prisoners. Some of the fugitives had fled to the tower of the church within the walls, but these unfortunates were either killed upon the steps, or hurled themselves from the windows. A more fortunate remnant came out of the sacristy, where they had arrayed themselves in the robes of the priests. These were greeted with jibes and laughter as they begged of the Maiden to be made prisoners. Amid the peals of bells and the triumphal shouts of the people, the Maiden entered the city at the head of her soldiers.
Three days after this—a festival day intervening—the leaders decided to make a feint upon the right bank, covering an attack upon the left. As Orleans lies upon the right bank of the Loire, the commander of the city kept a large number of boats for crossing. In the midst of the stream, but somewhat nearer the left bank, is an island which the English had not occupied. The French landed upon this island, Joan and La Hire, with his troop, in the lead. The boats were fastened together and thus made a bridge to the left bank, over which they advanced for an attack upon the first fort, Le Blanc. It would have been easy for the English to stop the passage, but they did not attempt it. After setting Fort Le Blanc on fire they fell back upon Fort Saint Augustine.