The Crown of the Hundred Years' War

Chapter 15 The Siege of Orleans

Lasyre was a small town, with a stone bridge spanning the Salt River. The town at the bridgehead supported a few dozen families thanks to the passing merchants. When Atil arrived with the royal cavalry, the town was deserted.

The British soldiers on guard duty, upon seeing the French approaching, abandoned their weapons and fled in their boats. Attire paid no heed to such matters; his goal was to secure the stone bridge closest to René.

The bridge is gone.

It was clearly sabotaged by the British army beforehand; even the stone bridge piers had been shortened, making it impossible to install bridge planks. Although the Sat River wasn't a particularly large river, it was still too dangerous for infantry to wade through it in the summer; only cavalry would dare to attempt it.

"My lord!" Roland rushed up from the west along the riverbank. He dismounted and strode to Atil. "The two bridges upstream have also been destroyed. It's not clear yet about the downstream area, but it should be similar."

Atil didn't speak immediately. He stood on the riverbank, gazing at the opposite side. Le Mans was only half a day's journey away, and the British troops had been looting nearby villages just last week. Why had they suddenly destroyed all the roads and bridges leading to Le Mans?

"When did the scouts report the large army gathering outside Le Mans?" Atil asked.

Roland thought for a moment: "Less than a week ago, right when you ordered the march north."

Atil nodded. He turned and walked towards the broken bridge, crouching down to examine the fracture. The piers had been cut and smashed; it didn't look like something that had happened just a day or two ago.

"Where's John?"

"When I arrived, I saw him urging the supply wagon on from behind; it looked like the wheels were stuck in a ditch."

No sooner had he finished speaking than a string of curses erupted from afar. Atil didn't turn around; he knew John would arrive soon.

Sure enough, a short while later, the red-haired old man came over, panting, with a wooden stick in his hand.

"The roads you Frenchmen build are worse than sheep intestines!" John slammed his stick into the ground, glanced at the broken bridge, and asked Athletic, "The bridge's broken?"

"It's broken, and the other bridges to Le Mans are the same."

John was silent for a moment. He walked to the river, scooped up some water and washed his face, then wiped it with his sleeve and looked back at Atil.

"The British destroyed all the bridges in this area, were they afraid we'd go to Le Mans?"

"right."

"What are they doing?"

Atil stood up and dusted off his knees: "So we're going to go check it out."

John blinked, then smiled. "That's what I've been waiting for you to say."

Atil ordered his troops to camp at La Syrus, sending men to find craftsmen to see if the broken bridge could be repaired or a new one built. He also had Roland select a dozen or so soldiers to swim across the river on horseback before nightfall. The scouts' mission was simple: reach Le Mans and see what the British were up to.

The scouts didn't return until almost dawn the next day. The leader was soaked to the bone, and his lips were purple.

"My lord, there are quite a few people in Le Mans, and a considerable number of soldiers. There are patrols on the streets and sentries on the city walls. But—" he gasped for breath, "there are no large troops outside the city. There are no camps either; it doesn't look like a large army is stationed there."

"I want you to take a close look at whether they have reinforced the city's defenses, and what the situation is," Atil asked.

"I checked it carefully as you instructed. Only two cannons are visible on the turret, both on the main gate tower. The other turrets appear to be empty, without any other protection."

Artil and John exchanged a glance.

"Did the British run away?" John asked.

"There were still so many raiding parties last week, it's not certain." Atil stood up and walked to the map. "Le Mans is a big city. If only two cannons are left, then the rest—"

"They were taken away," John continued. "Someone dragged them somewhere else."

Atil's finger traced across the map, pointing east to Tours and Orléans.

"If the British wanted to launch a surprise attack on Angers," Attil said, "it's impossible to keep it from us; we've been keeping a close watch on them for the past month."

"So they went east." John walked to the map and pointed east of Le Mans. "Tours? Orléans?"

Atil did not answer.

"Should we test the waters?" John suddenly said. "I'll take the cavalry over there and probe the situation. We'll retreat after we've assessed the situation. Maybe Le Mans is just an empty shell; otherwise, they wouldn't have destroyed the bridge."

Atil glanced at him.

"Take only cavalry, I'll give you two hundred, and test their city defenses."

John didn't say much, and directly ordered the selection to begin.

Artier stood on the south bank, watching John lead his cavalry across the Sat River and disappear into the gray fields to the north.

It wasn't until nightfall that the sound of horses' hooves returned from the north. John had returned, riding alone across the icy river once more, leaving the troops on the north bank.

"How is it?" Atil asked.

"The defenders reacted quickly; they're not just a show of force." John dismounted, his voice slightly breathless. "I saw Talbot's banner. He led a troop of cavalry out of the city to try and surround us."

"Have the troops all retreated?"

"There weren't any major losses. It should just be those few dozen cavalrymen who fought us last month; they couldn't hold us off. But—" John paused, "if we leave any later, the infantry will probably surround us too. I estimate that Talbot has at least a thousand men. Le Mans isn't exactly an empty city, but the main army from before is definitely gone."

"How are their city defenses?" Atil asked.

"There should only be two cannons left," John said. "When I retreated, I made a point of circling around Le Mans, and from beginning to end, only the two cannons in the main tower were firing. Apart from some longbowmen, I didn't see anything else."

Atil was silent for a moment. He walked to the map and placed his finger on the location of Le Mans.

"Le Mans has so many defenders," he said. "Even with only two cannons, we can't possibly succeed in a surprise attack."

"So?" John looked at him.

"So we have to go after their main force; the British have changed course." Atil's finger moved eastward from Le Mans. "They're heading east—the raiding forces are probably going to join them; their target should be Tours or Orléans."

"Tour is close to Le Mans, and taking Tours would threaten the entire middle Loire Valley. Orléans is further away, but Orléans is a tough nut to crack, and if the British manage to take it down—" Attire didn't finish his sentence.

He straightened up and turned to Roland.

"Send two more messengers. One to Bourges to inform His Majesty that the main British force is likely to move east. The other to Orléans to inform Count Dunois that the British are coming from the west and to warn him to be careful."

Then he turned to John.

"All the cavalry are yours. You will lead them across the river later and chase the British along the Loire from the north bank. You can take any supplies you find at any of the outposts along the way. If you encounter any British, fight them if you can, and if you can't, just hold them off until I join you."

John paused, then asked, "You're only leaving some infantry? What if you encounter the British first?"

"I'll lead the infantry south first, across the Loire River, where the British won't encounter me. I'll bring in reinforcements from nearby cavalry in Tours, so don't worry about me. But if the British are really heading for Orléans—" He paused, "you'll have to help Dinois."

John didn't say anything more and nodded.

Atil looked at him and suddenly said, "Don't be reckless. You don't have any backup right now. Don't end up having to come to your rescue, like Dinoire and I."

John laughed: "When have I ever been reckless?"

-----------------

Dinois stood on a low hill, looking towards the town to the north.

That was Chartres, a city that still used its ancient Roman walls. Now, this ancient city was under siege once again, but this time it was not the Gauls rebelling against Rome, but the Valois dynasty resisting Lancaster.

The British camp had completely enveloped the small town, with only the main building still barely visible. Half of the siege towers in the British camp were already erected, and the open space leading to the city walls was piled high with pallets used as cover.

"How many British are there?" Dinoire asked.

His adjutant, Bouyer, leaned closer, his brow furrowed so deeply it could trap a fly: "The scouts just reported at least two thousand. This is the last town we have left near Paris; the rest are lost."

"Two thousand?" Dinoire repeated, glancing again at the camp. "More than that."

He pointed to the camp's flag: "See that flag? It's not Suffolk's."

Buye squinted at it for a moment: "I remember this looks like Fastov's banner."

Dinoir's brow furrowed even more. Fastov was still in Le Mans according to the spring planting report, so how did he end up in Paris?

"They also brought cannons," Bouye whispered, "more than one. The scouts say they're in position, and they'll probably attack the city today."

Dinois didn't speak immediately. He turned around and looked at the troops he had brought with him.

He set out from Orleans with several hundred family cavalry and a few hundred infantry, plus some defeated soldiers gathered along the way, barely managing to muster two thousand men. But how much more blood will the Orleans family have to shed to defend this prince's town?

"Gentlemen," Dinoire turned to the generals surrounding him, "what do you think?"

Everyone was silent for a moment before Buye spoke first: "My lord, we don't have enough troops. If you ask me, we should wait for His Majesty's reinforcements. Lahail said he'll arrive in two days."

Another cavalry captain chimed in, "Could I lead them around? Let's sneak through that woods to the east and try to disrupt their siege?"

“Two days is too long. Chartres might not make it through today,” Dino said. “It’s more than a mile from the edge of the woods to their camp. The British could easily catch you, and that would be suicide.”

Another general tentatively suggested, "How about... we hold back a bit? We should at least do something, right?"

Dinois thought for a moment.

"Give it a try," he said. "Let the crossbowmen lead the way, with the armored soldiers following behind in formation. But don't go too fast; stop when you're within range. Have the cavalry hold the line; they are not to attack without my order."

He added, "Don't go too fast. Let the crossbowmen advance with their shields up. The English have definitely left longbowmen behind."

The troops began to move. The crossbowmen formed skirmish lines, slowly pushing forward with their large shields raised. The armored soldiers followed shoulder to shoulder behind them, while Dinois himself led the cavalry at the very back.

The English camp responded quickly; horns sounded, and longbowmen lined up behind the camp's wooden palisade. They began firing volleys once the French entered range.

When the first volley of arrows fell, the French crossbowmen had already set up their large shields. A few reckless crossbowmen peeked out from behind their shields and tried to retaliate, but the bolts landed far in front of the English lines, the closest ones being dozens of paces away.

"Wait until they cease fire, then push in a little closer!" Dinois ordered.

The crossbowmen tried to move forward a few steps, but the longbowmen's arrows became even denser under the commander's orders, many of them flying over the large shields. The crossbowmen began to suffer casualties, and their advance became slower and slower until they could no longer move.

"My lord—" Buye leaned closer, "We can't get through. We didn't bring enough shields, and there are at least several hundred longbowmen on the other side."

Dinoir gritted his teeth.

"withdraw."

The order was given, and the crossbowmen, as if granted a pardon, retreated under the cover of the armored soldiers. Cheers erupted from the English camp, but no one pursued them. Instead, with another horn blast, the longbowmen's formation dispersed and disappeared into the camp. More Englishmen joined the siege force, which was poised to attack. Soon, the siege tower moved, and the cannon fire began incessant.

Dinois watched all this from the low slope, without saying a word.

"My lord," Buye said cautiously, "we don't have enough men. Let's wait for His Majesty's reinforcements."

"I know." Dinoire turned around. "Back to camp."

That evening, the flags atop Chartres were changed. The old Roman walls could not withstand the advanced catapults, and the walls crumbled one after another. The British filed in, and firelight flickered throughout the city all night.

Dinois's encampment was less than a league away. He considered ordering a night raid by his cavalry several times, but ultimately abandoned the idea when he thought of the fortresses of the families to the south. These cavalrymen were the last remaining force of the Orleans family, and he could not afford to waste these loyal warriors on a battlefield where victory was uncertain; the Orleans family had already shed enough blood.

As dawn approached, a messenger rushed into the camp. His horse was covered in sweat, and the messenger's voice was hoarse from shouting.

"My lord, I have been sent by Marshal Attil to inform you that the British have abandoned Angers and are advancing eastward in full force! Beaujolais in the west is already under siege by the British!"

Dinoire nodded in sudden understanding and was about to reply when another messenger burst in. He asked somewhat impatiently, "Is it about the British army? He's here to report the same thing. Just give him a brief verbal account and we can compare it."

The messenger was somewhat surprised, and after considering his words, replied, "Sir, I come from Jeanville. We are surrounded by the British army today."

Dinois was stunned. He grabbed the messenger, somewhat pale, and asked, "Jeanville, north of Orléans? How did you become the ones surrounded? Who's leading the British forces?"

The messenger was startled, swallowed hard, and replied:

Salisbury himself was there.