The figure of Jeanne appears during these marchings and counter-marchings like that of any other general, pursuing a skilful but not unusual plan of campaign.  That she did well and bravely there can be no doubt, and there is a characteristic touch which we recognise, in the fact that she and all of her company “put themselves in the best state of conscience that could be,” before they took to horse; but the skirmishes and repulses are such as Alencon himself might have made.  “She made much diligence,” the same chronicler tells us, “to reduce and place many towns in the obedience of the King,” but so did many others with like success.  We hear no more her vigorous knock at the door of the council chamber if the discussion there was too long or the proceedings too secret.  Her appearances are those of a general among many other generals, no longer with any special certainty in her movements as of a person inspired.  We are reminded of a story told of a previous period, after the fight at Patay, when blazing forth in the indignation of her youthful purity at the sight of one of the camp followers, a degraded woman with some soldiers, she struck the wanton with the flat of her sword, driving her forth from the camp, where was no longer that chastened army of awed and reverent soldiers making their confession on the eve of every battle, whom she had led to Orleans.  The sword she used on this occasion, was, it is said, the miraculous sword which had been found under the high altar of St. Catharine at Fierbois; but at the touch of the unclean the maiden brand broke in two.  If this was an allegory(2) to show that the work of that weapon was over, and the common sword of the soldier enough for the warfare that remained, it could not be more clearly realised than in the history of this campaign.  The only touch of our real Maid in her own distinct person comes to us in a letter written in a field on that same wavering road to Paris, dated as early as the 5th of August and addressed to the good people of Rheims, some of whom had evidently written to her to ask what was the meaning of the delay, and whether she had given up the cause of the country.  There is a terse determination in its brief, indignant sentences which is a relief to the reader weary of the wavering and purposeless campaign: 

“Dear and good friends, good and loyal Frenchmen of the town of Rheims.  Jeanne, the Maid, sends you news of her.  It is true that the King has made a truce of fifteen days with the Duke of Burgundy, who promises to render peaceably the city of Paris in that time.  Do not, however, be surprised if I enter there sooner, for I like not truces so made, and know not whether I will keep them, but if I keep them, it will be only because of the honour of the King.”