“Ah, gentle duke, are you afraid? Do you not know that I promised your wife to

bring you back safe and sound?” Thereupon they both rushed to the attack.

As the body of the men rushed into the fosse to plant the scaling ladders Suffolk tried to parley, but it was now too late. The English resistance was effective and stubborn, so that for several hours the struggle went on with Jeanne in the thick of it. The ditch was bridged and, banner in hand, the Maid started up one of the scaling ladders as at the Tourelles and tried to mount the wall. One of the garrison threw down a stone which crashed through the banner, struck on the light helmet that she wore, and stretched her stunned to the ground. For a moment only she lay, and then springing to her feet unhurt, she cried:

“Friends, friends, on! On! Our Lord has condemned the English. They are ours!

Have good courage.”

The French had learned that cry. They knew that victory awaited them, and swarmed over the walls in a rush that carried all before them. Suffolk retreated toward the bridge, hoping to escape across it into the Beauce, but the French followed him too closely. One of his brothers and many of the garrison were slain, but he and all who were left alive were captured. As Suffolk was surrounded a knight cried:

“Yield thee, Suffolk! Yield thee, rescue or no rescue!”

“I will yield to none but the most valiant woman in the world,” answered Suffolk proudly. And he would give his sword to none other than Jeanne herself.

So Jargeau was taken.

The town even to the churches was sacked, and Jeanne found herself powerless

to prevent the sacrilege, but she profited by the experience. Some of the prisoners had been butchered because their captors had quarreled over the right to ransom them, so that it was deemed best to send the other captives down to Orléans by boat during the night. This was another lesson that Jeanne took to heart.

Alençon and Jeanne returned in triumph to Orléans, where the burghers gave them a royal welcome, making them many presents. Among Jeanne’s were a hucque and a rich robe of the Orléans colors, green and crimson. In the old times the green had been bright and clear, but it had darkened after the murder of Duke Louis by Jean Sans Peur of Burgundy, and since Agincourt was almost black.

The hucque was of green, and the robe, or overcoat, was of crimson “cramoisy”

lined with white satin and embroidered with the device of Orléans, the nettle.

With Meung and Beaugency still left to attack Jeanne felt the necessity of immediate action. Sir John Fastolf was at that very time at Janville, only twenty-

five miles’ distant from Jargeau; since that town had fallen he would press forward to Talbot’s assistance. The Maid permitted but one day of rest in Orléans.

“Now we must go to see the English at Meung,” she told Alençon. “We will march to-morrow after dinner. Give orders to that effect.”

Meung, as has been said, was the nearest fortified town to Orléans down the river, being distant some ten miles. Its bridge was a mile upstream from the town, and well fortified. It was attacked the afternoon of the next day, as Jeanne had desired, and fell easily. Placing a French garrison in the bridge towers the Maid with her forces camped for the night in the fields and next morning passed on down the river to Beaugency. These towns with their castles and towers were

very conspicuous on the flat plain of the Loire; and bodies of men were easily seen by the watchmen on the walls. As soon, therefore, as the English saw the French approaching they did not try to defend the town, but retired into the castle, leaving men ambushed in houses and sheds to surprise the French. They

were under command of Matthew Gough, a brave Welshman, for Talbot, having

no force sufficient to meet the enemy in the field, left Beaugency and rode off with a small company to Janville to hasten the coming of Fastolf. As the French marched into the town the men hidden in the houses fell upon them, but with losses upon both sides were driven into the castle. Jeanne placed the guns, and battered the castle until evening, when news came that was disturbing; for the Constable of France was advancing with a force of men and wished to join her.

The Comte de Richemont, Constable of France, was a great nobleman and a famous leader, but at the present time was in disgrace with the King and exiled from Court, largely through the machinations of La Trémouille and his party. He had wished to assist in raising the siege of Orléans, but the King had forbidden it, and consequently his approach caused both Alençon and Jeanne disquietude.

He was no friend of Jeanne’s, believing it to be a disgrace to France that her armies should be led and victories gained by a woman, probably a witch, a creature unworthy to stand before armed men. The Constable could hardly be blamed for holding this opinion of the Maid; excepting those who came in personal contact with her such belief was general. The captains and soldiers reverenced her, holding that she was truly sent of God; the simple people had no doubt of it. The English believed firmly that she was a witch. The Regent Bedford in his report to England concerning the failure of the siege of Orléans said that it was caused by “false enchantments and witchcraft of a Maid.”

Richemont was a sworn enemy to all such.

The French generals were divided over the advisability of receiving him. He was own uncle to Alençon, and the latter had no personal quarrel with him, but the

King’s command was that Richemont should not be received should he come with his force. Alençon, therefore, declared that he would withdraw should the Constable’s aid be accepted. It was an embarrassing moment. Jeanne herself did

not regard his coming with much pleasure, but it was not her way to reject any

champion of France. So, as just at this time news was received of the advance of the English under Talbot and Fastolf, she persuaded Alençon that they ought to

accept the proffered aid gladly.

“He is French, my gentle duke,” she said. “And Frenchmen ought to lay aside private quarrels for France. In God’s name, then let us welcome him.”

In the end this wise counsel prevailed, and both Jeanne and Duc Alençon rode forth to meet the Constable.

“Jeanne,” said Richemont, as the maiden alighted from her horse to greet him,

“they tell me that you are against me. I know not whether you come from God––

or elsewhere. If from God, I do not fear you, for He knows my good will; if from the Devil, I fear you still less.”

“Brave Constable,” returned the maiden, smiling, “you are not here by any will

of mine; but since you are here you are welcome.”

They then mounted and rode back to Beaugency. Immediately they were obliged

to make ready for battle, for Talbot and Fastolf had come up with their forces, and rested at a spot between Meung and Beaugency, distant about a league from

each town. The French army took up a strong position on a hill in front of Beaugency, covering the siege of the castle and the town. Night was coming on,

but the English formed in line of battle, and waited for the French to begin the attack. From their excellent position the French watched the enemy’s

preparations, but made no move to fight. Becoming impatient the English sent two heralds, saying that three English knights would fight any who would come

down into the plain. Jeanne declined the challenge.

“Go to your rest to-day,” she sent back word. “It is late enough. To-morrow, if it please God and Our Lady, we shall see you at closer quarters.”

Later, scouts reported to Jeanne and the French captains that the English were withdrawing from their position in the plain, and were headed northward.

“They are going to Meung,” cried the Maid joyfully. “They will occupy the town, and try to take the bridge, thinking to come down on the other side of the

river, and so relieve the garrison here at Beaugency in that way. But Beaugency will surrender as soon as it hears the news that Talbot has gone.”

Which proved to be the case. Matthew Gough, upon learning that the English army had retreated, felt that his case was hopeless. He had seen that Alençon was reinforced by the Constable, and believed that Talbot had left him to his fate. Therefore, at midnight he capitulated on easy terms. His men with their horses and armour, and goods to the value of a silver mark, were allowed to march away, on the condition that they were not to fight against the Dauphin for ten days; he himself was held as hostage.

At dawn the French were up and away to Meung, where they found that Talbot

had indeed been battering the bridge held by the French all night long, but the bridge held. On receipt of the news that Gough had surrendered Talbot and Fastolf with all the united forces of the English set off across the wooded plain of Beauce, as the country north of the Loire was called, for Paris.

The French were uncertain what to do. An encounter in the open field, an open