by Various
CHAPTER XIII--OF THE FIGHTING AT LES AUGUSTINS AND THE PROPHECY OF THEMAID
Just above the broken bridge of Orleans there is a broad island, lyingvery near the opposite shore, with a narrow, swift passage of waterbetween bank and island. Some two furlongs higher up the river, and onthe further bank, the English had built a small fort, named St. Jean leBlanc, to guard the road, and thither they sent men from Les Augustins.The plan of our captains was to cross by boats on to the island, andthence by a bridge of planks laid on boats to win over the narrowchannel, and so make an onslaught on St. Jean le Blanc. For thisonslaught the Maid had now been armed by her women, and with all hercompany, and many knights, was making ready to cross. But before she, orwe with her, could attain the shore, horses being ill beasts in a boatferry, the light-armed townsfolk had crossed over against St. Jean leBlanc to spy on it, and had found the keep empty, for the English haddrawn back their men to the Bastille of Les Augustins.
Thus there was no more to do, for the captains deemed not that we were ofany avail to attack Les Augustins. They were retreating then to thebridge of boats, and Messires de Gaucourt, De Villars, and other goodknights were guarding the retreat, all orderly, lest the English mightsally out from Les Augustins, and, taking us in the rear, might slay manyin the confusion of crossing the boat-bridge, when the Maid and La Hire,by great dint of toil, passed their horses in a ferry-boat on to thefurther bank. At this moment the English sallied forth, with loud cries,from Les Augustins, and were falling on our men, who, fearing to be cutoff, began to flee disorderly, while the English called out ill words, as"cowards" and "ribaulds," and were blaspheming God that He should damnall Frenchmen.
Hereon the Maid, with her banner, and La Hire, with lance in rest, theytwo alone, spurred into the press, and now her banner was tossing likethe flag of a ship in the breakers, and methought there was greatjeopardy lest they should be taken. But the other French and Scots,perceiving the banner in such a peril, turned again from their flight,and men who once turn back to blows again are ill to deal with. Striking,then, and crying, Montjoie! St. Denis! and St. Andrew for Scotland! theymade the English give ground, till they were within the palisade of LesAugustins, where they deemed them safe enough. Now I had struggledthrough the throng on the island, some flying, some advancing, as eachman's heart bade him, till I leaped into the water up to my waist and wonthe land. There I was running to the front of the fight when D'Aulonwould have stopped me, for he had a command to hold a certain narrow way,lest the English should drive us to the water again.
All this was rightly done, but I, hearing the cry of St. Andrew, was asone possessed, and paying no heed to D'Aulon, was for thrusting meforward, when a certain Spaniard, Alphonse de Partada, caught me by thearm, and told me, with an oath, that I might well bide where better menthan I were content to be. At this I made answer that my place was withthe Maid, and, as for better men, bigger he might well be, but I, forone, was not content to look on idly where blows were being dealt. Heanswered in such terms that I bade him follow me, and see which of uswould fare furthest into the press.
"And for that you may be swifter of foot than I, as you have longerlegs," I cried, "clasp hands on this bargain, and let us reach thepalisades with the same step."
To this he agreed, and D'Aulon not refusing permission (for he loved tolook on a vaillance), we, clasping hands, ran together swiftly, andstruck our swords in the same moment against the wooden fence. A littleopening there was, not yet closed, or he that kept it deemed he might winmore honour by holding it with his body. He was a great knight and tall,well armed, the red cross of St. George on his breast, and he fought witha mighty sword. Together, then, we made at him, two to one, as needsmust be, for this was no gentle passage of arms, but open battle. Onesweep of his sword I made shift to avoid, but the next lighting on mysalade, drove me staggering back for more yards than two or three, and Ireeled and fell on my hands. When I rose, Alphonse de Partada wasfalling beneath a sword-stroke, and I was for running forward again; butlo! the great English knight leaped in the air, and so, turning, fell onhis face, his hands grasping at the ground and his feet kicking.
Later I heard from D'Aulon that he had bidden John the Lorrainer mark theman with his couleuvrine, for that he did overmuch mischief. But,thinking of nought save to be foremost in the breach, I ran in, stumblingover the dead man's body, and shouldered at the same time by Alphonse,who warded off a stab of a pike that was dealt at me. Then it was a fairmellay, our men pressing after us through the gap, and driving us forwardby mere weight of onset, they coming with all speed against our enemiesthat ran together from all parts of the keep, and so left bare thefurther wall. It was body to body, weight against weight, short strokesat close quarters, and, over our heads, bills striking and foining at theEnglish. Each man smote where he could; we wavered and swayed, now offour feet in the press, now making some yard of ground, and evil was thesmell and thick the dust that arose. Meanwhile came the sound of theriving of planks from the other side of the palisade; above the steelpoints and the dust I saw the Maid's pennon advancing with the face of mylady painted thereon, and I pressed towards it, crying "St. Andrew" withsuch breath as was in me. Then rang out the Maid's voice, like aclarion, "St. Denis!" and so, stroke echoing stroke, and daggers going atclose quarters, beaten on and blinded, deaf and breathless, now up, nowdown, we staggered forward, till I and the Maid stood side by side, andthe English broke, some falling, some flying to the out-gate.
And, when all was done, there was I, knowing little enough of what hadcome and gone, dazed, with my sword bloody and bent, my head humming, andmy foot on the breast of an English knight, one Robert Heron. Him I tookto prisoner, rescue or no rescue, and so sat we down, very weary, in themidst of blood and broken arms, for many had been slain and a few taken,though the more part had fled into the boulevard of Les Tourelles. Andhere, with a joyous face, and the vizor of her helm raised, stood theMaid, her sword sheathed, waving her banner in the sight of the Englishthat were on the bridge fort.
Natheless, her joy was but for a moment, and soon was she seated lowly onthe ground, holding in her arms the head of an English knight, sorewounded, for whom her confessor, Father Pasquerel, was doing the officesof religion. Tears were running down her cheeks, even as if he had beenone of her own people; and so, comforting and helping the wounded as shemight, she abode till the darkness came, and the captains had made shiftto repair the fortress and had set guards all orderly. And all the riverwas dark with boats coming and going, their lanterns glittering on thestream, and they were laden with food and munitions of war. In one ofthese boats did the Maid cross the river, taking with her us of hercompany, and speaking to me, above others, in the most gracious manner,for that I had been the first, with that Spanish gentleman, to passwithin the English palisade. And now my heart was light, though my fleshwas very weary, for that I had done my devoir, and taken the firstfruitsof Elliot's wedding portion. No heavy ransom I put on that knight, SirRobert Heron, and it was honourably paid in no long time, though he illliked yielding him to one that had not gained his spurs. But it wasfortune of war. So, half in a dream, we reached our house, and there wasthe greatest concourse of townsfolk clamouring in the praise of the Maid,who showed herself to them from the window, and promised that to-morrowthey should take Les Tourelles. That night was Friday, yet, so worn werewe all that the Maid bade us sup, and herself took some meat and a littlewine in her water, though commonly she fasted on Friday. And now we wereabout to boun us for bed, and the Maid had risen, and was standing withher arms passed about the neck of the daughter of the house, a fair lassand merry, called Charlotte Boucher, who always lay with her (for she hadgreat joy to be with girls of her own age), when there came the sound ofa dagger-hilt beating at the door. We opened, and there stood a tallknight, who louted low to the Maid, cap in hand, and she bade him drinkto the taking of Les Tourelles that should be to-morrow.
But he, with the flagon full in his hands, and withal a thi
rsty look uponhis face, shook his head.
"To another pledge, Maiden, I will gladly drink, namely, to the bravestdamsel under the sky."
And therewith he drank deep.
"But now I am sent from Gaucourt, and the Bastard, for all the captainsare in counsel again. And they bid me tell you that enough hath beendone, and they are right well content. But we are few against so great ahost, in a place so strong that men may not avail to master it by mainforce. The city is now well seen in all manner of victual; moreover, wecan now come and go by Sologne and the left bank. The skill is thereforeto hold the city till the English wax weary and depart, or till we havesuccour anew from the King. Therefore to-morrow the men-at-arms shalltake rest, having great need thereof; and therefore, gentle Maid, pardonme that I drank not to the pledge which a lady called."
Then he drained the flagon.
The Maid, holding the girl Charlotte yet closer to her, smote her righthand on the table, so that it dirled, and the cups and dishes leaped.
"You have been with your counsel," she cried, "and I have been with mine!The counsel of Messire will stand fast and prevail, and yours shallperish, for it is of men. Go back, and bear my words to the captains,"quoth she; and then, turning to us, who looked on her in amazement, shesaid--
"Do ye all rise right early, and more than ye have done to-day shall yedo. Keep ever close by me in the mellay, for to-morrow I shall have muchto do, and more than ever yet I did. And to-morrow shall my blood leapfrom my body, above my breast, for an arrow shall smite here!" and shestruck the place with her hand.
Thereon the knight, seeing that she was not to be moved, made hisobeisance, and went back to them that sent him, and all we lay down tosleep while we might.
These words of the Maid I, Norman Leslie, heard, and bear record thatthey are true.
