Chapter 32 Withdrawal from the siege
Chapter 32 Withdrawal from the siege
As Regent of France, Bedford regularly traveled between Paris and Rouen, managing the entire Normandy and most of the Paris Basin for his young nephew. Governing such a vast territory, larger than England itself, was extremely demanding in terms of both energy and time, which led him to entrust frontline military affairs to Salisbury for many years. After Salisbury's unexpected death in battle, he then handed over military duties to Talbot.
Today, however, Bedford once again questioned himself: was it the right decision to let Talbot take over? After all, it had been five years since he last visited the front lines.
Bedford led Fastov into the command tent of "Paris Castle." The tent was filled with dejection. Suffolk sat there, armor still on, eyes sunken, clearly having not slept for days, as if something had been drained from his body. The other generals in the tent were in no better shape; some stared at maps with their heads down, others leaned against tent pillars with their arms crossed, their eyes vacant.
Bedford stepped forward, took Suffolk's hand, pulled him up from his chair, and turned to face the generals: "My friends, why are you so sullen? Defeat is only temporary. You are all valiant warriors; you should not be so dejected!"
Suffolk gave a bitter laugh, but the laugh was more like a grimace: "Your Grace, this is a crushing defeat. Everything Lord Salisbury instructed me to do before his death has been ruined by me. The French somehow found a witch who smashed through the north bank, recaptured the bridgehead on the south bank, and Grassdale was killed in action. The Battle of Orléans is a complete defeat."
Bedford shook his head, sat down beside him, and said calmly, "My good buddy, for every soldier we lose, the French will trade five knights for him. A temporary victory or defeat means nothing; if we can besiege Orléans once, we can besiege it countless times." He paused, his gaze sweeping across the faces of everyone in the tent. "But that witch—you've all been vague in your letters. What exactly is her situation?"
The Duke's words were like a bucket of cold water poured onto scorching embers. The generals all raised their heads, their expressions slightly brightening. Suffolk finally raised his head as well, looking into Bedford's eyes, and sighed, "Duke, that's a demon, a witch—in short, a monster that shouldn't have come to earth."
Seeing that some generals were nodding in agreement, Bedford released Suffolk's hand, his voice suddenly turning cold: "Sir Suffolk, I know you're in pain, but you can't talk nonsense! If she's a demon, we'll slay the dragon like St. George; if she's a witch, we'll burn her at the stake! Even if she's a monster sent by Satan himself, it won't stop the descendants of the Crusaders!"
Suffolk was startled by this, realizing that his earlier mention of demons had bordered on heresy. He immediately knelt on one knee, made the sign of the cross, and repeatedly said, "No." Bedford helped him up, his tone softening. "You are a knight, a general, a role model for the army." He paused, his eyes filled with curiosity. "However, I am curious—what did she do to cause you such a breakdown?"
Suffolk slumped back into his seat, his voice barely audible, "Duke, what I just said is just hearsay in the army. I heard she was a village girl sent by the false king. But on her very first day, she landed on the east bank at dawn with the help of a strange wind and entered Orléans—not a single cannon shot from the south bank hit her. Within days of entering the city, she captured St. Lupus Castle to our northeast in just half a morning and even sent men to humiliate us. Finally, she directly landed on the south bank, and Glassdale and eight hundred soldiers held her off for only a day. Among the prisoners who returned alive, some saw her with her own eyes, protected by that banner, impervious to swords and spears!"
After listening, Bedford remained silent for a moment, then slowly spoke, his tone carrying a piercing calmness: "So, in the two weeks she was in Orleans, you suffered a crushing defeat?"
Seeing the generals nod in agreement, Bedford waved for them to sit down, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "I thought there was some real magic involved. Isn't this just a madwoman being used as a figurehead by the false king?"
He turned to Fastov, who had been silent for a long time, and pointed his finger in the air: "Dinois was the best defender of the city among the French, forcing you to sit outside Orléans for half a year. Even Fastov's attempts to deliver supplies to you were blocked. After spring, the reinforcements from home arrived late, but the false king found his help first, so he should have had the upper hand. He just found a madwoman to spread rumors of invulnerability, relying on those deceptive tricks to intimidate you."
Upon hearing this, the generals' faces gradually showed expressions of sudden understanding. Bedford, not wanting to dwell on the topic any longer, looked around and asked, "Why hasn't Talbot arrived yet? Didn't he say he needed to adjust the upcoming deployment?"
Fastov then stepped forward: "Your Grace, he cannot come." Seeing Bedford gesture for him to continue, Fastov continued, "Lord Talbot has been stationed in Mohen for the past few months, but since spring, the royal cavalry has been monitoring him. He has tried to support Orléans several times, but whenever he sends troops, the royal cavalry immediately tries to besiege Mohen. Until now, the enemy has not withdrawn, and he dares not come. He sent word that Orléans can be abandoned, but Mohen and Jarro can still be held, awaiting reinforcements."
After listening, Bedford suddenly clapped. The generals were puzzled for a moment, but they followed suit. Bedford nodded in satisfaction: "That's what we should be saying. If we can't besiege Orleans, then we won't! We captured so much new land last year; as long as we have strongholds along the Loire River, we can still destroy the false king's army." He looked at Suffolk, "Do you understand?"
Suffolk seemed to be suddenly enlightened, stood up, and his voice regained its strength: "Your Grace, I understand. I will lead the remaining garrison to Jarrod now, and I will hold out until reinforcements arrive."
Bedford replied with a smile, "Remember to send some men to Talbot and have him drive the royal cavalry away."
The generals all nodded in agreement. Suffolk strode out of the tent to organize the troops in preparation for the withdrawal.
Bedford waited until there was no one else in the tent except Fastov before letting out a long sigh, a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of his heart: "Fastov, you did very well just now."
Fastov breathed a sigh of relief, but still asked hesitantly, "But, Your Grace, shouldn't we have told the knights that Moen is actually under heavy attack by Atil, and that Talbot is just here to ask for reinforcements?"
Bedford helped Fastov to his feet, his voice turning somber: "Tell them what? Not a single soldier will be sent from the country; they'll have to rely on themselves." He turned and gripped Fastov's shoulders tightly. "You set off now to gather a garrison from Normandy. At least three thousand men. We must hold the fortresses along the Loire River and not allow the French morale to recover."
Fastov was about to agree when Bedford added through gritted teeth, "And find out exactly where that witch came from, who she's met, and what her position is in the army!"
He thought for a moment, then added a final sentence, each word like it had been struck from an anvil: "We must get rid of her—she has given the French courage, which is more dangerous than ten thousand knights!"
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After a months-long siege that failed, the Earl of Suffolk finally withdrew his troops. The English army, outnumbered, made a final effort to prove they were still favored by God. They formed battle formations and drilled in the open opposite the city walls, hoping to provoke the enemy into engaging them. Even then, at Joan of Arc's behest, the French refused to fight. The Earl of Suffolk then led his army in a highly orderly retreat, taking a portion of his forces to Jarraux, while the remainder, under the command of Lord Taldet and Lord Skiles, were stationed at Meun and Beaujeunsie.
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A Brief History of the Hundred Years' War by Desmond Seward
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