of sarcasm, “Even a war-council would know enough to do that
itself.”
Then she took her leave. La Hire made this general remark to the
council:
“She is a child, and that is all ye seem to see. Keep to that
superstition if you must, but you perceive that this child
understands this complex game of war as well as any of you; and if
you want my opinion without the trouble of asking for it, here you
have it without ruffles or embroidery–by God, I think she can
teach the best of you how to play it!”
Joan had spoken truly; the sagacious English saw that the policy of
the French had undergone a revolution; that the policy of paltering
and dawdling was ended; that in place of taking blows, blows were
ready to be struck now; therefore they made ready for the new
state of things by transferring heavy reinforcements to the bastilles
of the south bank from those of the north.
The city learned the great news that once more in French history,
after all these humiliating years, France was going to take the
offensive; that France, so used to retreating, was going to advance;
that France, so long accustomed to skulking, was going to face
about and strike. The joy of the people passed all bounds. The city
walls were black with them to see the army march out in the
morning in that strange new position–its front, not its tail, toward
an English camp. You shall imagine for yourselves what the
excitement was like and how it expressed itself, when Joan rode
out at the head of the host with her banner floating above her.
We crossed the five in strong force, and a tedious long job it was,
for the boats were small and not numerous. Our landing on the
island of St. Aignan was not disputed. We threw a bridge of a few
boats across the narrow channel thence to the south shore and took
up our march in good order and unmolested; for although there
was a fortress there–St. John–the English vacated and destroyed it
and fell back on the bridge forts below as soon as our first boats
were seen to leave the Orleans shore; which was what Joan had
said would happen, when she was disputing with the council.
We moved down the shore and Joan planted her standard before
the bastille of the Augustins, the first of the formidable works that
protected the end of the bridge. The trumpets sounded the assault,
and two charges followed in handsome style; but we were too
weak, as yet, for our main body was still lagging behind. Before
we could gather for a third assault the garrison of St. Prive were
seen coming up to reinforce the big bastille. They came on a run,
and the Augustins sallied out, and both forces came against us with
a rush, and sent our small army flying in a panic, and followed us,
slashing and slaying, and shouting jeers and insults at us.
Joan was doing her best to rally the men, but their wits were gone,
their hearts were dominated for the moment by the old-time dread
of the English. Joan’s temper flamed up, and she halted and
commanded the trumpets to sound the advance. Then she wheeled
about and cried out:
“If there is but a dozen of you that are not cowards, it is
enough–follow me!”
Away she went, and after her a few dozen who had heard her
words and been inspired by them. The pursuing force was
astonished to see her sweeping down upon them with this handful
of men, and it was their turn now to experience a grisly
fright–surely this is a witch, this is a child of Satan! That was their
thought–and without stopping to analyze the matter they turned
and fled in a panic.
Our flying squadrons heard the bugle and turned to look; and when
they saw the Maid’s banner speeding in the other direction and the
enemy scrambling ahead of it in disorder, their courage returned
and they came scouring after us.
La Hire heard it and hurried his force forward and caught up with