Виктория Холт - Epitaph for Three Women

He came to her during the afternoon. Those who lived close to her could not help but know of the relationship between them, for it had been impossible to keep it secret from them. So Owen came and went frequently to her apartment and they were used to seeing him there.

She clung to him and then she told him. He was silent and she dared not look into his face.

When she did she saw that he was overjoyed and yet fearful, as she had known he would be, but the wonder of it was too great at the moment for him to give full vent to his fears.

‘Our child,’ he could only murmur. ‘Oh Katherine … my Queen … to think that you and I are to have a child.’

Then he was all concern for her. She must take care of herself. She would have to have special attendants … He stopped, remembering. Then he looked at her, fear uppermost now. ‘Katherine … how … ?’

‘I shall arrange it,’ she said. ‘I have faithful friends who will help me.’

He took her hand and kissed it. ‘We should marry,’ he said, ‘for the sake of the child.’

She nodded.

‘I could find a priest who would do it,’ she said. ‘And we will … simply … and speedily.’

‘Before the child …’

‘Oh yes, before the child is born. Owen, I shall send for Dame Alice and for Joan. They have been unhappy since Henry was taken from us. They will help me.’

‘A child,’ he said in a bewildered voice. ‘Our child. Oh Katherine … how happy you have made me. Shall we have a girl, or perhaps a boy?’

‘We will be content with what we are given,’ she said. ‘This is like a miracle. They took my son from me … and now you have given me this.’

‘It will not be easy.’

‘Dearest Owen,’ she said, ‘I am no longer young and I am old enough to learn that the best things in life do not often come easily.’

JOHN, Duke of Bedford had returned to France to find the position as indecisive as ever. He must bring this deadlock to an end. It was true that Burgundy having settled his quarrel with Gloucester and Jacqueline to great advantage to himself was more inclined to be friendly. Anne, to whom he was devoted, had a certain influence with him, and John was more hopeful than he had been since the miserable affair of Gloucester’s marriage – or mock marriage – had given him such anxieties.

His great desire was to put an end to the fighting and he wanted to strike one decisive blow which would make it perfectly clear to the French that it was useless to continue with their resistance so that they would resign themselves to English rule and settle down to bring prosperity back to the country.

He knew that it was asking what was almost impossible of a proud people. The Earls of Salisbury and Suffolk on whose counsel he set great store were of the opinion that if they could capture Orléans they could take a very large step towards victory.

Bedford was dubious. Not, he hastened to add, that he questioned the importance of Orléans but he did feel that the taking of it would be a lengthy operation. It would mean keeping a large contingent of men to besiege it. The winter was coming on; who knew how long such a siege would last?

‘The winter is even more cruel for the besieged than for the besiegers,’ Salisbury pointed out.

‘True enough,’ agreed Bedford, ‘and we could bring in supplies for our men. But it would be a mighty task nevertheless.’

‘I believe most fervently that until we take Orléans and get command of the Loire we cannot proceed very far. Orléans is as important on the Loire as Paris or Rouen on the Seine.’

‘And as well defended as those cities.’

‘It could be taken by siege, my lord,’ said Salisbury, ‘and it is essential to our cause.’

John knew that he would be unwise not to listen to the Earl of Salisbury who was one of the most experienced captains of the English army – it might not be too great an exaggeration to say the finest. He had waged successful battles in Champagne, Maine and Normandy and he had been in England recently for the sole purpose of gathering an army to, as he said, bring such a reckoning to the French that they would no longer have the stomach to fight. Enthusiastically he told Bedford of the ease with which he had recruited bowmen to his armies. It had been more difficult to get cavalry and men-at-arms, for they were too comfortable at home to want to go to a country which had for long been suffering the effects of war; but he had had a moderate success and had persuaded more than four hundred men of that kind to accompany him, while he had garnered more than two thousand archers.

He had his eyes on Orléans. The key to the problem, he called it. He was adamant. They must take Orléans …

At length John was convinced and in the misty month of October the siege of Orléans began. Philip of Burgundy sent a small force to help the English and John was grateful for this show of friendship. But the Orléannese were stubborn; they were proud of their city – and justly so. They would make no easy surrender to the English. There was a strong conviction within those walls that this was no ordinary siege. It was not just their city which was at stake. It was the whole of France. A certain fatalism had come to them and this showed itself in a determination to accept any hardship rather than give in.

Orléans was a very fine city, lying on a bend of the River Loire – a city of stone and wood houses with high slate roofs, of towers and steeples, of long winding streets which had changed little since the days when it had been under Roman occupation. Its walls were six feet thick rising high above a moat, and these walls were flanked by towers, thirty-four of them, each of which had five gates and two posterns. All along the walls were parapets with machicolated battlements from which boiling oil or paving stones could be thrown most effectively down upon an invading enemy.

A stone bridge led from the town to the left bank of the Loire. Set on nineteen arches it was more than a bridge; it was the dwelling place of many of the Orléannese for houses lined the bridge on either side. On the eighteenth of the arches a small castle had been built and this was known as Les Tourelles.

The Orléannese were not surprised to find themselves in siege. They had in fact been expecting it to happen for some time. They knew that town after town was falling to the English and it must in time be their turn. For the last three or four years they had been collecting arms and storing them in their Tower of Saint-Samson; they had dug dykes and even built fortifications. They were as prepared as it was possible for them to be for the Earl of Salisbury when he came. So it was no shock when on that September day the Earl reached the town of Janville, which he took with ease, and from there sent a message to the townsfolk of Orléans that he was marching towards their city and that he demanded their surrender.

They formed into an orderly procession and, with priests and merchants, women and children, rich and poor, marched through the streets singing psalms as they went into the churches to ask God and their patron saints to come to their aid.

They would need it, for Salisbury had brought with him the flower of the English army. The result of the battle for Orléans could be decisive in settling the outcome of the war. Salisbury had convinced Bedford of this and he was now as certain of it himself as he was of anything. With him rode Thomas, Lord of Scales, William Neville, his nephew Lord Richard Grey, William Pole, Earl of Suffolk and William’s brother John Pole and many other nobles. One of the best captains in the army was also there – William Glasdale, a squire of more humble birth than the noblemen, but one on whom Salisbury relied as he did on few others.

Salisbury saw at once that the little castle of Tourelles, which was really a fort, prevented their crossing the bridge and his first move, therefore, must be to take it.

The Orléannese put up a desperate fight for Les Tourelles, but after a few days were unable to hold out against the superior strength of the English and when they were forced to abandon Les Tourelles they had to face the fact that they had lost one of their most effective defences.

It was a Sunday afternoon when the strange event occurred.

The flag of St George was flying from the fort. The French turned their eyes from it in rage and dismay while the Earl of Salisbury eyed it with the utmost pleasure because now he had a vantage point. From the topmost point of the tower he could see right over the walls and into the city.

He ascended the tower in the company of Captain William Glasdale and a few others and for some moments they stood overlooking the city. Then suddenly the window was shattered. A cannon ball had taken off a corner of the window; a paving stone came away and this struck the Earl carrying off half his face. He fell senseless to the ground.

While his companions picked him up Glasdale looked round and realised that the shot must have come from the nearby tower of Notre Dame which appeared to be deserted apart from one small child casually standing there.

It was a very mysterious event, and disastrous for the English and within a few hours of being taken to Meung-Sur-Loire Salisbury was dead, never having regained consciousness since the blow struck him.

They had lost their leader, the man who was certain of victory, and they were appalled. It was more than the loss of a great General, for this was the beginning of the strange stories which were to be circulated in Orléans and the surrounding countryside.

People who had been near Le Tour Notre Dame when the cannon had been fired swore that no one had been there, except a young boy who had been playing quietly.

Had he fired the cannon which killed Salisbury? He could not be found that he might be asked. He had appeared briefly and slipped away.

Could it be a sign from Heaven? asked the desperate Orléannese. It must be. They had to believe it. They needed help so badly and who better than Heaven could supply the kind of help they needed. Orléans was thirsting for miracles. So when something happened that might be one they glorified and magnified it.

It was a sign from Heaven, they said. They would yet be saved.

* * *

Winter was coming in. The people of Orléans still refused to surrender and the English living uncomfortably outside the walls of the city suffered as many hardships as those within the city. The Bastard of Orléans had been sent to the aid of the Orléannese. He was a warrior of great skill and charm and he brought new heart to them. The son of the Duke of Orléans and his mistress Madame de Cany-Dunois, he was a man of power in France. His bastardy had been of small inconvenience to him; he was after all a Prince’s bastard. He was at this time advancing in his twenties and he had many successes behind him. He brought further hope to the city, for with him were warriors of great reputation such as Maréchal de Boussac and the Lord of Chaumont. Lord Scales, William Pole and Sir John Talbot had taken over command of the siege since the death of Salisbury and as Christmas was coming on they sent messages into the city to suggest to the Bastard of Orléans that they should call a halt to hostilities for Christ's birthday.

There was an air of expectation within the city. They believed that their prayers had been answered. The story of the death of Salisbury was discussed constantly. It had now become a miracle. The cannon, it was believed, had been fired from an empty tower. The only one who had been seen there was a small child. Could a child have fired a cannon? It was hardly likely. A mysterious hand had removed Salisbury from their path. Heaven was helping them.

One story in circulation was that an English cannon ball had fallen on a table where several people sat at dinner. The cannon ball bounced off the table and no one was hurt.

A better story was of the cannon ball which had fallen near La Porte Bannière for in that spot there had been several hundred people yet it had done no harm except knock off the shoe of one man. Laughingly he cried: ‘The English go to a great deal of trouble to make me put on my shoe twice in one day.’

These stories multiplied and the wonder of them increased with the telling. The people of Orléans were looking for a miracle. It was very comforting indeed to believe that God or the saints were giving them these signs.