This prophetic speech of the Maid is among the most curious facts relating to her life; for not only did she, during her trial at Rouen, tell her judges that she had been aware that she would be wounded on that day, and even knew the position beforehand of the wound, but that she had known it would occur a long time before, and had told the King about it.  A letter is extant in the Public Library at Brussels, written on the 22nd of April (1429), by the Sire de Rotslaer, dated from Lyons, in which Joan’s prophecy regarding her wound is mentioned.  This letter was written fifteen days before the date (7th of May) of the engagement when that event occurred.  A facsimile of the passage in this letter referring to Joan’s prophecy appears in the illustrated edition of M. Wallon’s Life of Joan of Arc.

Very early on the following day, Saturday, the 7th of May, it appears that an attempt was made to prevent the Maid from starting for the field, as, at a council held on the evening before by the officers, it had been considered more prudent, before renewing the attack on the English fortifications, to await fresh reinforcements from the King.  When this was reported to Joan, she said:  ’You have taken your counsel, and I have received mine,’ and at break of day she was ready, armed and prepared for the attack.  Before starting, her host wished her to eat some fish, an ‘alose,’ which had just been brought to him.  ‘Keep it,’ said Joan with a smile, ’till the evening, and I will bring with me a “Godon” who will, eat his share of it.’  This sobriquet of ‘Godon’ was evidently the generic term for the English, as far back as the early years of the fifteenth century, and may have been centuries before the French designation for our countrymen.

Thus, full of spirits and with a brave heart, the Maid rode off to meet the foe.  When she reached the gate called Burgundy, she found it closed by order of De Gaucourt, Grand Master of the King’s Household, who had done so at the instigation of those officers who wished the attack on the English deferred until fresh reinforcements arrived.  But the Maid was not to be beaten and kept back even by barred gates.

‘You are doing a bad deed,’ she indignantly said to those about the gate, ‘and whether you wish it or not, my soldiers shall pass.’

The gate was opened, and Joan, followed by her men, galloped to where some troops who had been left in possession of the fortifications taken on the previous day were stationed.  The attack on the Tournelles commenced as soon as Joan arrived—­it was then between six and seven in the morning.  Meanwhile Dunois, La Hire, and the principal forces from the town came up.  A desperate struggle ensued; both sides knew that, whatever the result, that day would decide the fate of Orleans—­even that of the war.

The French were fighting under the eyes of their countrymen, who manned the walls, and under the guidance of a leader they already regarded as more than human—­and never had they fought so well, during that long and bloody century of warfare, as they did on that day.