Accordingly，on the 27th or 28th of April，Jeanne set out at the head of her little army，accompanied by a great number of generals and captains.She had been equipped by the Queen of Sicily (with a touch of that keen sense of decorative effect which belonged to the age)in white armour inlaid with silver--all shining like her own St.Michael himself，a radiance of whiteness and glory under the sun--armed /de toutes pièces sauve la teste/，her uncovered head rising in full relief from the dazzling breastplate and gorget.This is the description given of her by an eye-witness a little later.The country is flat as the palm of one's hand.The white armour must have flashed back the sun for miles and miles of the level road，to the eyes which from the height of any neighbouring tower watched the party setting out.It is all fertile now，the richest plain，and even then，corn and wine must have been in full bourgeon，the great fresh greenness of the big leaves coming out upon such low stumps of vine as were left in the soil；but the devastated country was in those days covered with a wild growth like the /macchia/of Italian wilds，which half hid the movements of the expedition.They went by the Loire to Tours，where Jeanne had been assigned a dwelling of her own，with the estate of a general；and from thence to Blois，where they had to wait for some days while the convoy of provisions，which they were to convey to Orleans，was being prepared.And there Jeanne fulfilled one of the preliminary duties of her mission.She had informed her examiners at Poitiers that she had been commanded to write to the English generals before attacking them，appealing to them /de la part de Dieu/，to give up their conquests，and leave France to the French.The letter which we quote would seem to have been dictated by her at Poitiers，probably to the confessor who now formed part of her suite and who attended her wherever she went：
JHESUS MARIA.
King of England，and you Duke of Bedford calling yourself Regent of France，you，William de la Poule，Comte de Sulford，John，Lord of Talbot，and you Thomas，Lord of Scales，who call yourself lieutenants of the said Bedford，listen to the King of Heaven：
Give back to the Maid who is here sent on the part of God the King of Heaven，the keys of all the good towns which you have taken by violence in His France.She is ready to make peace if you will hear reason and be just towards France and pay for what you have taken.And you archers，brothers-in-arms，gentles and others who are before the town of Orleans，go in peace on the part of God；if you do not so you will soon have news of the Maid who will see you shortly to your great damage.King of England，if you do not this，I am captain in this war，and in whatsoever place in France I find your people I will make them go away.I am sent here on the part of God the King of Heaven to push you all forth of France.If you obey I will be merciful.And be not strong in your own opinion，for you do not hold the kingdom from God the Son of the Holy Mary，but it is held by Charles the true heir，for God，the King of Heaven so wills，and it is revealed by the Maid who shall enter Paris in good company.If you will not believe this news on the part of God and the Maid，in whatever place you may find yourselves we shall make our way there，and make so great a commotion as has not been in France for a thousand years，if you will not hear reason.And believe this，that the King of Heaven will send more strength to the Maid than you can bring against her in all your assaults，to her and to her good men-at-arms.You，Duke of Bedford，the Maid prays and requires you to destroy no more.If you act according to reason you may still come in her company where the French shall do the greatest work that has ever been done for Christianity.Answer then if you will still continue against the city of Orleans.If you do so you will soon recall it to yourself by great misfortunes.Written the Saturday of Holy Week (22March，1429).[1]
Jeanne had by this time made a wonderful moral revolution in her little army；most likely she had not been in the least aware what an army was，until this moment；but frank and fearless，she had penetrated into every corner，and it was not in her to permit those abuses at which an ordinary captain has to smile.The pernicious and shameful crowd of camp followers fled before her like shadows before the day.She stopped the big oaths and unthinking blasphemies which were so common，so that La Hire，one of the chief captains，a rough and ready Gascon，was reduced to swear by his /baton/，no more sacred name being permitted to him.Perhaps this was the origin of the harmless swearing which abounds in France，meaning probably just as much and as little as bigger oaths in careless mouths；but no doubt the soldiers'language was very unfit for gentle ears.Jeanne moved among the wondering ranks，all radiant in her silver armour and with her virginal undaunted countenance，exhorting all those rude and noisy brothers to take thought of their duties here，and of the other life that awaited them.She would stop the march of the army that a conscience-stricken soldier might make his confession，and desired the priests to hear it if necessary without ceremony，or church，under the first tree.Her tender heart was such that she shrank from any man's death，and her hair rose up on her head，as she said，at the sight of French blood shed--although her mission was to shed it on all sides for a great end.But the one thing she could not bear was that either Frenchmen or Englishmen should die unconfessed，"unhouseled，disappointed，unannealed."The army went along attended by songs of choristers and masses of priests，the grave and solemn music of the Church accompanied strangely by the fanfares and bugle notes.What a strange procession to pass along the great Loire in its spring fulness，the raised banners and crosses，and that dazzling white figure，all effulgence，reflected in the wayward，quick flowing stream！