What a thrilling scene it must have been! Nothing in modern warfare could ever equal in circumstance and emotion that pageant pilgrimage. It was the last hope of France going forth to conquer or to die, led by a young shepherd-girl and a youthful royal knight. La Pucelle’s absolute reliance on the help of God, her remarkable courage, and the spell she had cast over the King, his army, and his Court, were all rendered more convincing to the common mind by the magic of her personal appearance. She was hailed as “_Nostre Royne en blanche!_” The bright sun shone upon her resplendent white armour, and the sharp breeze unfurled her snow-white banner; her white charger, too, enhanced the _tout ensemble_. She rode the most conspicuous object in that dazzling cavalcade, and no wonder her followers regarded her as almost supernatural. At Tours and at Blois “Stations” were made for absolution, and from the latter place Jeanne caused René, in her name, to write an ultimatum to the Duke of Bedford, the English Regent of France and Generalissimo of the English army. She ordered him and his co-commanders to cease devastating fair France, sorely stricken as she was, and to avoid the clash of arms by retiring before her Heaven-directed forces. “Thou hast had,” she said, “noble Duke, thy fill of human bleed. Seek now the Divine pardon, for nothing shall stay me till I have planted my banner upon the walls of Orléans. Give back to me the keys of all the towns you have seized, destroy no more property, repent and retire.”