Boutet de Monvel Louis Maurice - The Story of Joan of Arc

Joan was born on the 16th of January, 1412, at Domremy, a little village of Lorraine, dependent on the bailiwick of Chaumont, which was held from the Crown of France. Her fathers name was Jacques dArc, her mothers Isabellette Rome; they were honest people, simple labouring folk who lived by their toil.

Joan was brought up with her brothers and sister in a little house which is still to be seen at Domremy, so close to the church that its garden touches the graveyard.

The child grew up there, under the eye of God.

She was a sweet, simple, upright girl. Everyone loved her, for all knew her kind heart, and that she was the best girl in the village. A brave worker, she aided her family in their labours ; by day leading the beasts to pasture or sharing the rough tasks of her father ; in the evening spinning at her mothers side and helping her in the house-keeping.

She loved God, and often prayed to Him.

One summer day, when she was thirteen years old, she heard a voice at midday in her fathers garden. A great light shone upon her, and the archangel St. Michael appeared to her. He told her to be a good girl and to go to church. Then, telling her of the great mercy which was in store for the Kingdom of France, he announced to her that she should go to the help of the Dauphin and bring him to be crowned at Rheims. I am only a poor girl, she said. God will help thee, answered the archangel. And the child, overcome, was left weeping.

From this day, Joans piety became still more ardent. The child loved to go apart from her playmates to meditate, and heavenly voices spoke to her, telling her of her mission. These, she said, were the voices of her Saints. Often the voices were accompanied by visions. St. Catherine and St. Margaret appeared to her. I have seen them with my bodily eyes, she said later to her judges, and when they left me I used to cry. I wanted them to take me with them.

The girl grew, her mind elevated by her visions, and her inmost heart keeping the secret of her heavenly intercourse. No one guessed what was going on in hernot even the priest who heard her confessions.

At the beginning of the year 1428, when Joan was sixteen, the voices became more urgent. The peril was great, they said, and she must go to help the King and save the kingdom.

Her Saints commanded her to seek out the Sire de Baudricourt, Lord of Vaucouleurs, and to ask of him an escort to conduct her to the Dauphin.

Not daring to tell her parents of her project, Joan went to Burey, to her uncle Laxart, and begged him to take her to Vaucouleurs. Her fervent prayers overcame the timidity of the cautious peasant, and he promised to go with her.

Baudricourts reception of her was brutal. Joan told him how she was sent by God, to the end that he might send word to the Dauphin to stand firm, for God would send him help before the middle of Lent. She added that it was the will of God that the Dauphin should become King; that he should be crowned in spite of his enemies, and that she herself would lead him to his coronation. The girl is crazy, said Baudricourt. Box her ears and take her back to her father.

Joan returned to Domremy. But, urged again by her voices, she came again to Vaucouleurs, and saw the Sire de Baudricourt once more, with no better welcome.

Soon nothing was talked of at Vaucouleurs but the young girl who went about saying openly that she would save the kingdom, that some one must take her to the Dauphin, that God willed it. I will go, she said, if I have to wear my legs down to the knees.

The simple-hearted people, moved by her faith, believed in her. A squire, Jean de Metz, influenced by the confidence of the populace, offered to take her to Chinon, where Charles VII. was. The poor folks, adding their mites together, raised the money to clothe and arm the little peasant girl. They bought her a horse, and on the appointed day she set out with a small escort. Go, and take the consequences! Baudricourt threw after her. God keep you! cried the multitude; and the women wept as they saw her go.

The English and Burgundian party held the intervening country, and the little troop was obliged to pass over bridges occupied by the enemy. They had to travel by night, and hide through the day. Joans companions, alarmed, spoke of returning to Vaucouleurs.

Fear nothing, said she. God is leading me, and my brothers from Paradise tell me what I ought to do.

So, on the twelfth day, Joan arrived at Chinon with her companions. From the hamlet of St. Catherine she had addressed a letter to the King, announcing her coming.

The court of Charles VII. was far from being of one mind as to the reception that ought to be given her. La Trmouille, the favourite of the moment, jealously guarding the ascendency he had acquired over the indolent spirit of his master, had decided to keep away any influence which might stir him out of his torpor. For two days the council debated whether the King should receive the inspired girl.

At that moment, news came from Orlans so disquieting that the partisans of Joan carried their point that the last chance of saving it should not be neglected. One evening, by the light of fifty torches, Joan was brought into the great hall of the castle, crowded with all the nobles of the Court. She had never seen the King.

Charles VII., not to attract her attention, wore a costume less splendid than that of his courtiers. At the first glance she singled him out, and knelt before him. God give you a happy life, gentle Dauphin! she said, I am not the King, he answered; yonder is the King. And he pointed out one of his nobles.

You are he, gentle prince, and no other. The King of Heaven sends word to you by me that you shall be anointed and crowned. And, coming to the object of her mission, she told him that she was sent by God to aid and succour him; she demanded some troops, promising to raise the siege of Orlans, and to bring him to Rheims.

The King hesitated. The girl might be a sorceress. He sent her to Poitiers, to have her examined by learned men and ecclesiastics.