“Although the truce is made, I am not content, and am not certain that I will keep it. If I do it will be merely for the sake of the King’s honor, and in case they do not deceive the blood royal, for I will keep the King’s army together and in readiness, at the end of the fifteen days, if peace is not made.”
At Bray, where Charles expected to cross the Seine on his road to the Loire, he found a strong Anglo-Burgundian force in possession, so facing about he started toward Paris. Jeanne and the captains rejoiced openly, for they had no desire to 293 cross the river, but wished only to keep near the capital until the truce was ended.
The erratic marching and indecision of the royal Council and the King were ruining the spirit of the men-at-arms; but the country people who knew naught of the parleying with Burgundy were wild with delight at the coming of Charles, and crowded to gaze upon him as he passed by. Jeanne was touched by their demonstrations of delight.
“Here is a good people,” she remarked one day, as she rode between Dunois and the Archbishop of Reims when the army was near Crépy. “Never have I seen any so glad of the coming of the noble King. I would that when I die I were so happy as to be buried in this country.”
“Jeanne, in what place do you expect to die?” asked the Archbishop, who had never been a friend of Jeanne’s, and wished to draw some expression of prophecy from her that might be used against her.
“When it shall please God,” she made answer; “for I know no more of the time and place than you do. Would that it pleased God my Creator to let me depart at this time, and lay down my arms, and go to serve my father and mother in keeping their sheep with my brothers, for they would be very glad to see me.”
There was a note of sadness in the words. Even Jeanne’s brave spirit was feeling the strain of the fluctuating, futile marchings.
On August eleventh Charles lay at Crépy-en-Valois, where he received a letter from Bedford, who by this time had brought his troops near to Paris and now lay between that city and 294 the French army. It was a brutally insulting letter, obviously written for the purpose of forcing the monarch to fight in the open field. It closed by challenging him to single combat, and with an appeal to the Almighty. Any man with an ounce of red blood in his veins would have accepted the challenge, and died gloriously, if needs be, in defense of his honor. Charles merely ignored the letter. It is said of him that at a later date he discovered great valour, taking the field in person against his enemies, and fighting in knightly fashion. It seems a pity that such gallantry was not in evidence at this period.
On August fourteenth the armies of Charles and Bedford came face to face at Montépilloy. It was near evening, and after a skirmish they both encamped for the night.
In the morning the royal army found Bedford entrenched in a strong position. His flanks and front were carefully protected by earthworks and a stockade made of stout stakes carried by English archers for the purpose. Thrust deep into the ground, they would break the charge of cavalry, and were very formidable. In the rear was a lake and a stream, so that no attack could be made from that quarter. Over the host floated the banners of France and England.