The Duke of Bedford, firm, vigilant, and resolute, still preserved his footing in France, where he employed every resource which circumstances had yet left to him; his garrisons were held in postures of defence, and a watchful eye kept over the French; while the Parisians were, by alternate severity and caresses, yet retained in the English interest. An alliance with the Duke of Burgundy, the most important to their sinking credit, was, at the same time renewed and strengthened. The supplies of money from the British parliament were tardy and scanty; while the impression produced on the minds of the troops of the wonderful power and resources of the maid, occasioned daily desertions in the army.
In this perilous state of their affairs, their spirits were revived by the arrival of Cardinal Winchester, who landed at Calais, with a body of five thousand men, which had been levied originally for a crusade. The Cardinal suffered himself to be prevailed upon by the Duke of Bedford to lend hire these troops, for the purpose of opposing the French king, who with his forces was advancing towards Paris.
Charles, having left Rheims, and taken St. Denis and Lagni, proceeded to the capital, to which he laid siege. The barriers of the port of St. Honoré were forced, when Joan, flushed with military ardor, and animated by success, in attempting to pass the fosse, received a wound in her thigh. Pressing forward, regardless of the blood which streamed through her armor, she was at length perceived by the Duke of Alençon, who observing her situation, carried her forcibly back to the camp. The king was, however, compelled, by want of provisions, to raise the siege, and to retreat from before Paris with his troops.
The mission of the maid having been thus accomplished, she expressed a wish to be allowed to retire; but this request was overruled. Charles, still solicitous to retain her in his service, conferred, as a testimony of his gratitude, nobility upon her family and their posterity, both in the male and female line. Armorial bearings were accordingly assigned to her, and her name was changed from Arc to Lys. Domremi, the city which gave her birth, received at the same time a perpetual exemption from subsidies and taxes.
The Duke of Bedford, prudently declining a present engagement with a victorious foe, chose his posts with wisdom and caution, attended the French in all their movements, covered the towns and garrisons which remained in his possession, and attentively watched the steps of the enemy. The French army, consisting mostly of volunteers, were soon after disbanded. The king, having made himself master of various towns in the neighborhood of Paris, retired to Bourges, the place of his ordinary residence.
The Duke of Bedford, with the hope of reviving the courage of the troops, proposed that the young king of England should pass over to France, be crowned at Paris, and receive from his vassals a new oath of allegiance. This ceremony, however, politically planned, afforded but a spiritless spectacle, when compared with the coronation at Rheims. But an event soon after took place, which gave a different aspect to affairs, while it reflected upon both nations lasting dishonor.
The English, supported by the Duke of Burgundy, laid siege to the town of Compéigne, into which Joan threw herself. The garrison, who, with her assistance, believed themselves invincible, received her with transports of joy. On the day following her arrival, May 24th, 1430, she headed a sally made on the quarters of John de Luxemberg. Having thrice driven the enemy from their intrenchments, and finding their numbers increasing every moment, she prudently ordered a retreat. But the pursuers pressing hard upon her, she turned upon them and forced them to recoil. The besieged, protected in the rear by Joan, had in the mean time gained the city in safety, the gates of which were instantly closed. Joan, thus deserted and alone, perceiving herself excluded, surrounded by the enemy, suspecting treachery, and rendered desperate, exerted herself with a courage, deserving a better fate. Her horse at length falling under her, she was compelled, after performing prodigies of valor, to surrender to the enemy. The Burgundians, into whose hands she had fallen, carried their prisoner to Luxemburg, where, for ten thousand livres, they basely sold her to the English. It is believed that the French officers, jealous of the glory of the maid, had designedly exposed her to this fatal catastrophe. Such is human gratitude and the fate of merit, and such the recompense awarded to the benefactors of their species.
The savage triumph of her enemies on her capture, was the unequivocal eulogium of the heroine. Te Deum, a service so often profaned, was celebrated at Paris on the event. The courage of the English, blasted by the successes of Joan, began, on her imprisonment, to revive. The Duke of Bedford, instigated by a policy alike barbarous and disgraceful, commenced a prosecution against his magnanimous captive, who, by the circumstances of her defeat, the gallantry of her conduct, and her irreproachable life, was justly entitled to the privileges of a prisoner of war. Her youth, her sex, whose appropriate decorum she had strictly observed, her extraordinary qualities, added to the services she had performed for her country, gave her novel and singular claims, to which fanaticism alone could have remained insensible. Under the sanction of religion, justice was outraged and humanity violated.
A petition against the maid was presented by the Bishop of Beauvais, who was devoted to the cause of the English, under the pretence that she was taken within the bounds of his diocese, he requested that she might be delivered over to the ecclesiastical court, to be tried for sorcery, impiety, and magic. The University of Paris covered itself with infamy, by joining in this petition. The title of Inquisitor of the Faith was assumed on the occasion by the Bishop of Beauvais.
The court was held at Rouen, where the young king of England then resided, and where Joan, loaded with irons, and clothed in her military apparel, was produced before this prejudiced tribunal. She had previously endeavored to procure her liberty by leaping from the top of the tower in which she was confined; but, stunned by the fall, had been discovered by the sentinel, and retaken. An accusation of intending suicide, was, on this justifiable attempt, added to the offences with which the prisoner was charged. Having requested of her judges to be eased from her chains, she was reproached with her design of escaping. She boldly avowed and justified the fact, declaring at the same time, that if she hesitated to repeat her attempt, it was only from despair of success. Throughout her trial, she discovered equal firmness and courage. Being interrogated respecting the affairs of the court of France, she refused to reply to the questions made to her, alleging that where the secrets of the king were concerned, she owed no obedience to the ecclesiastical powers.