There had been faubourgs, or suburbs, "the finest in the kingdom," about the city, but their citizens destroyed them so that no Englishmen could be sheltered among them. Fifteen thousand people were thus rendered homeless, and crowded into Orléans, nearly doubling its population, and threatening all with famine. As Jeanne rode round the city at leisurely pace necks were craned over the breastworks of the enemy to catch a glimpse of the witch, but not a shot was fired from the forts. Like a shining vision she seemed, clad in white armour, riding her white horse, her head covered by a little velvet cap ornamented with nodding plumes, her dark hair flying about her face, and though the English hurled words of abuse at her the lips that spoke them were pale with superstitious terror. Unmolested Jeanne completed her survey, then led her people back through the gate into the city, then to the cathedral to vespers. Here Doctor Jean de Mascon, a "very wise man," said to her: "My child, are you come to raise the siege?" "In God's name, yes." "My child, they are strong and well intrenched, and it will be a great feat to drive them out." The wise man spoke despondently. "There is nothing impossible to the power of God," Jeanne made answer. The garrisons of Montargis, Gien, and Château Regnard came marching into the city the next day, bringing word that the army and convoy from Blois had started on the march for Orléans. At dawn of Wednesday, therefore, Jeanne with La Hire and five hundred of the garrison rode out to meet them. Dunois was coming by the route that Jeanne had wished to take on her entry, and it was found to be no difficult matter to make a wide detour around the forts, skirt the forest at the back of the city where the English had no bastille, and enter by the Paris Gate. So, led by the priests, chanting the Veni Creator, as at Blois, headed by Father Pasquerel bearing the great standard, Jeanne entered the city as she had planned to do. Right beneath the forts of the English they rode and marched, but not a shot was fired, not a sally was made from the forts. John, Lord of Talbot, was a brave man, but not even a brave general can control demoralized and terrified men; men to whom the slender figure in shining armour seemed like nothing mortal. By noon Jeanne had her army safely housed in Orléans. D'Aulon dined with Jeanne, and while they were seated at table, the Count of Dunois entered and told the maiden that there was news that Sir John Fastolf, he who had defeated the French at Rourvay in the Battle of the Herrings, was coming from Paris with reinforcements and supplies for the English, and that it was said that he was but a day's march distant. Jeanne heard the tidings joyfully. "Dunois, Dunois," she cried, elated that at last action must come, "I command you, in God's name, to let me know as soon as he arrives. If you do not, I--will have your head."