as a leader in war, whenever I shall meet with your people in France, will oblige them to go whether they be willing or not; and if they go not, they will perish; but if they will depart I will pardon them.  I have come from the King of Heaven to drive you out [bouter] of France.  And do not imagine that you will ever permanently hold France, for the true heir, King Charles, shall possess it, for it is God’s wish that it should belong to him.  And this has been revealed to him by the Maid, who will enter Paris.  If you will not obey, we shall make such a stir [ferons un si gros hahaye] as hath not happened these thousand years in France.  The Maid and her soldiers will have the victory.  Therefore the Maid is willing that you, Duke of Bedford, should not destroy yourself.’

And Joan finishes this strange effusion by proposing to Bedford that they should combine in making a holy war for Christianity!

This letter, written ‘in the name of the Maid,’ was dated on a Tuesday in Holy Week.  The address ran thus:  ’To the Duke of Bedford, so called Regent of the Kingdom of France, or to his Lieutenants, now before the town of Orleans.’

Doubtless the reference to the deed of arms which, once again at peace together, might be accomplished by the combined English and French armies, was an idea which seems to have floated in Joan’s enthusiastic imagination, that the day might come when the two foremost nations in Christendom would fight together for the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre.

As might be expected, this letter was received by the English with gibes and jeers, which was pardonable; but what was not so was the bad treatment of the messenger who had brought it to the English camp.  He was kept prisoner, and, if some rather doubtful French writers of the day are to be believed, it was seriously debated whether or not he should be burnt.  Let us trust this is but an invention of the enemy.

Joan, before leaving Blois, insisted on the dismissal of all camp followers—­such bad baggage was certainly well left behind, and could not have followed an army led by one who, night and morning, had an altar erected, around which her hallowed flags were placed, and where the Maid, and those willing, took the Sacrament at the head of the army.  It must have been a striking sight during that spring-time—­that army, led by a maiden all clad in white armour, and mounted on a black charger, surrounded by a brilliant band of knights, riding along the pleasant fields of Touraine, then in their first livery of brilliant green.  And a striking sight it must have been, when, at the close of the long day’s march, the tents were pitched and the altar raised, the officiating priests grouped about it and the sacred pictured standards waving above, while the solemn chant was raised, and the soldiers knelt around.

One can well think how ready were those soldiers to follow Joan wherever she would lead them, and it is not improbable that such a crusade as she dreamt of, had it been possible, in which the two nations, so closely connected by religious feeling, and so closely united by position, but so long enemies owing to the rapacity and greed of their kings, might have again placed the cross on the battlements of the Holy City, under the leadership of her whom her countrymen rightly called ‘The Angelic.’