forget it. And all had succeeded, and would go on to the end placid
and comfortable. All but me alone. I must carry my awful secret
without any to help me. A heavy load, a bitter burden; and would
cost me a daily heartbreak. She was to die; and so soon. I had
never dreamed of that. How could I, and she so strong and fresh
and young, and every day earning a new right to a peaceful and
honored old age? For at that time I though old age valuable. I do
not know why, but I thought so. All young people think it, I
believe, they being ignorant and full of superstitions. She had seen
the Tree. All that miserable night those ancient verses went
floating back and forth through my brain:
And when, in exile wand’ring, we Shall fainting yearn for glimpse
of thee, Oh, rise upon our sight!
But at dawn the bugles and the drums burst through the dreamy
hush of the morning, and it was turn out all! mount and ride. For
there was red work to be done.
We marched to Meung without halting. There we carried the
bridge by assault, and left a force to hold it, the rest of the army
marching away next morning toward Beaugency, where the lion
Talbot, the terror of the French, was in command. When we
arrived at that place, the English retired into the castle and we sat
down in the abandoned town.
Talbot was not at the moment present in person, for he had gone
away to watch for and welcome Fastolfe and his reinforcement of
five thousand men.
Joan placed her batteries and bombarded the castle till night. Then
some news came: Richemont, Constable of France, this long time
in disgrace with the King, largely because of the evil machinations
of La Tremouille and his party, was approaching with a large body
of men to offer his services to Joan–and very much she needed
them, now that Fastolfe was so close by. Richemont had wanted to
join us before, when we first marched on Orleans; but the foolish
King, slave of those paltry advisers of his, warned him to keep his
distance and refused all reconciliation with him.
I go into these details because they are important. Important
because they lead up to the exhibition of a new gift in Joan’s
extraordinary mental make-up–statesmanship. It is a sufficiently
strange thing to find that great quality in an ignorant country-girl
of seventeen and a half, but she had it.
Joan was for receiving Richemont cordially, and so was La Hire
and the two young Lavals and other chiefs, but the
Lieutenant-General, d’Alen‡on, strenuously and stubbornly
opposed it. He said he had absolute orders from the King to deny
and defy Richemont, and that if they were overridden he would
leave the army. This would have been a heavy disaster, indeed. But
Joan set herself the task of persuading him that the salvation of
France took precedence of all minor things–even the commands of
a sceptered ass; and she accomplished it. She persuaded him to
disobey the King in the interest of the nation, and to be reconciled
to Count Richemont and welcome him. That was statesmanship;
and of the highest and soundest sort. Whatever thing men call
great, look for it in Joan of Arc, and there you will find it.
In the early morning, June 17th, the scouts reported the approach
of Talbot and Fastolfe with Fastolfe’s succoring force. Then the
drums beat to arms; and we set forth to meet the English, leaving
Richemont and his troops behind to watch the castle of Beaugency
and keep its garrison at home. By and by we came in sight of the
enemy. Fastolfe had tried to convince Talbot that it would be
wisest to retreat and not risk a battle with Joan at this time, but
distribute the new levies among the English strongholds of the
Loire, thus securing them against capture; then be patient and
wait–wait for more levies from Paris; let Joan exhaust her army
with fruitless daily skirmishing; then at the right time fall upon her
in resistless mass and annihilate her. He was a wise old