JOAN OF ARC was perhaps the most wonderful person who ever lived in the world. The story of her life is so strange that we could scarcely believe it to be true, if all that happened to her had not been told by people in a court of law, and written down by her deadly enemies, while she was still alive. She was burned to death when she was only nineteen: she was not seventeen when she first led the armies of France to victory, and delivered her country from the English.Joan was the daughter of a poor man, in a little country village. She had never learned to read, or write, or mount a horse. Yet she was so wise that many learned men could not puzzle her by questions: she was one of the best riders in France; one of the most skilled in aiming cannons, and so great a general that she defeated the English again and again, and her army was never beaten till her King deserted her. She was so brave that severe wounds could not stop her from leading on her soldiers, and so tender-hearted that she would comfort the wounded English on the field of battle, and protect them from cruelty. She was so good that her enemies could not find one true story to tell against her in the least thing; and she was so modest that in the height of her glory she was wishing to be at home in her father's cottage, sewing or spinning beside her mother.
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JOAN OF ARC was perhaps the most wonderful person who ever lived in
the world. The story of her life is so strange that we could
scarcely believe it to be true, if all that happened to her had not
been told by people in a court of law, and written down by her
deadly enemies, while she was still alive. She was burned to death
when she was only nineteen: she was not seventeen when she first
led the armies of France to victory, and delivered her country from
the English.
Joan was the daughter of a poor man, in a little country village.
She had never learned to read, or write, or mount a horse. Yet she
was so wise that many learned men could not puzzle her by
questions: she was one of the best riders in France; one of the
most skilled in aiming cannons, and so great a general that she
defeated the English again and again, and her army was never beaten
till her King deserted her. She was so brave that severe wounds
could not stop her from leading on her soldiers, and so
tender-hearted that she would comfort the wounded English on the
field of battle, and protect them from cruelty. She was so good
that her enemies could not find one true story to tell against her
in the least thing; and she was so modest that in the height of her
glory she was wishing to be at home in her father's cottage, sewing
or spinning beside her mother.
Joan, who was born at Domremy, in the east of France, on January 6,
1412, lived in a very unhappy time. For nearly a hundred years the
kings of England had been trying to make themselves kings of
France, just as they had been trying to make themselves kings of
Scotland. Perhaps they might have succeeded, if they had confined
themselves to one conquest at a time. But they left Scotland alone
while they were attacking France, and then Scotland sent armies to
help the French, as at other times the French sent armies to help
Scotland.
Eight years before Joan was born a sad thing happened to her
country. Henry V. of England had married the Princess Katherine of
France, and the French, or some of them, tired of being beaten in
war, consented to let the child of Henry and the Princess Katherine
be their King, instead of the son of their old King. The old King's
son was called "the Dauphin"; that was the title of the eldest son
of the French kings. This Dauphin was named Charles. His friends
went on fighting the English for his sake, but he was not crowned
King. The coronations of French Kings were always done in the
Cathedral at Rheims, where they were anointed with sacred oil. The
oil was kept in a very old flask, which was said to have been
brought from heaven, to a Saint, by an Angel. No eldest sen of the
King was thought really King of France, after his father's death,
till he had been anointed with this heavenly oil at Rheims by the
Archbishop. It is important to remember this; you will see the
reason afterwards. Now, Rheims was in the power of the English, so
the Dauphin, Charles, could not go there and be made King in
earnest. The English said that he was not the son of his father,
the late King, which made him very unhappy. We shall hear how Joan
comforted him and made him King for good and all. What Scots and
Frenchmen could not do, she did.
In the meantime the French were divided into two parties. Some
sided with the Dauphin, Prince Charles; more, and especially all
the people of Burgundy, and the Duke of Burgundy, a great and rich
country, were on the side of the English. So they fought very
cruelly, for the land was full of companies of ill-paid soldiers,
who plundered the poor, so that towns fell into decay, many fields
were empty of sheep and cows, and the roads became covered with
grass. In the villages a boy used to watch all day, from the spire
of the church, to see whether any soldiers were riding up. If they
came, the cattle were driven into the woods, and men, women, and
children ran to hide themselves, carrying such things away as they
could. The soldiers of all sorts robbed equally, for they had often
no regular pay, and the Scots were not behindhand in helping
themselves wherever they went. Even gentlemen and knights became
chiefs of troops of robbers, so that, whoever won in the wars, the
country people were always being plundered.
In the middle of these miseries Joan was born, in a village where
almost everybody was on the side of the Dauphin: the right side. In
the village nearest to hers, Maxey, the people took the English
side, and the boys of the two places had pitched battles with
sticks and stones. It is true that they would have found some other
reason for fighting, even if the English had not been in France.
Joan used to see her brothers, Peter and John, come home from these
battles with their noses bleeding, and with black eyes, but she did
not take part herself in these wars.
Her village was near a strong-walled town called Vaucouleurs, which
was on the side of the Dauphin. When Joan was a little girl she did
not see very much of the cruelty of the soldiers; the village was
only visited once or twice by enemies. But she heard of what was
going on in the rest of France: "there was great pity in France,"
she said. She did, once or twice, see some of the "pity." There was
a man called Henry d'Orly, living in a castle named Doulevant, who,
like many other gentlemen in these days, was a captain of
robbers.
One day several spearmen of his rode into Domremy, Joan's village,
and seized Joan's father's cows, with all the other cows that they
could find, just as the Scotts, Elliots, and Armstrongs used to
ride across the Border and drive the cattle of the English farmers.
But a lady lived in a strong castle rear Domremy, and when she
heard how the village people had been plundered she sent the news
to a gentleman in the neighbourhood, who gathered his spearmen and
rode after the robbers. The thieves, of course, could not ride
faster than the stolen cows could trot; they pricked the poor
beasts with their spears, and made them lumber along, but a cow is
slow at best. The pursuers galloped and came on the cattle in a
little town, while the thieves were drinking in the wine shops.
When they heard the horses of the pursuers gallop down the street,
they mounted their horses and spurred for their lives; but now came
their master, Henry d'Orly, with more spearmen, who followed after
the cattle and the gentlemen who were driving them home. They
turned and charged Henry d'Orly, and cleared the road, and the cows
came home to Domremy, all safe.
Another time all the people in Domremy had to fly from home, and go
to a town called Neufchâteau, where they were safe behind strong
walls. They only stayed there for a few days, but, later, the
English said that Joan had been a servant in an inn at this town,
and had learned to ride there, which was quite untrue.
There were beautiful woods near the village, and in one oak
wood an oak called the Fairy Tree. There was a story that a
beautiful fairy used to meet her lover at that tree, just as under
the Eildon Hill, the Queen of Fairyland met Thomas the Rhymer. The
children used to take cakes, and make feasts, and hang garlands of
flowers on the boughs of that oak; but Joan did not care much about
fairies, and preferred to lay her wild flowers beneath the statues
of Saints in the village Church, especially St. Catharine and St.
Margaret. Of course, all this was long before the Reformation in
which the Protestants broke the images of Saints in the churches,
and smashed their pictures on the glass windows with stones, and
destroyed a beautiful statue of Joan on the bridge at
Orleans.
These things were done more than a hundred years after Joan was
dead.
Though Joan could run faster than the other girls and boys, and
beat them when they ran races, she liked to be quiet. Nobody could
sew and spin better than she did, and she was very fond of praying
alone in church. She would even go away from the other children
into lonely places, and implore God to have pity on France. The
services in church, the singing and music, made her very happy, and
when she heard the church bells across the fields, she would say
her prayer. She was very kind, and would give up her bed to any
poor traveller whom her father took in for a night, and would sleep
beside the hearth She took care of the sick, and, if ever she had
any money, she would spend it on Masses to be said in honour of
God, and for the sake of men's souls.
So Joan lived till she was thirteen. She was a strong, handsome
girl, beautifully made, with black hair. We do not know the colour
of her eyes, probably brown or dark grey. A young knight wrote to
his mother, when he first saw Joan, that she was "a creature all
divine." Jean never sat to a painter for her portrait, though once
she saw a kind of fancy picture of herself in the hands of a
Scottish archer.
Young men do not say so much about a girl who is not beautiful, and
indeed, armies do not rush together to follow a maiden with no good
looks. But though Jean, when she came to command armies, liked to
be well dressed, and to have fine armour, that was partly because
she was a natural, healthy girl, and partly because she was a kind
of banner for men to follow into fight, and banners ought to be
splendid.
She took, no thought of her own beauty, and the young knights and
squires who fought, later, under her flag, said that they looked on
her as a sacred thing, and never dreamed of making love to her She
let it be known that she would never marry any one, while the
English were still in France. She was not a nun, and had not made a
vow never to marry at all, but while her country was in danger she
never thought of marriage; she had other things to do.
CHAPTER II. HOW THE VOICES CAME TO THE MAID
WHEN Joan was about thirteen a very wonderful thing happened to her. One day she and the other girls and boys were running a race for a crown of flowers. Joan was easily the winner, and as she was running, a child who was looking on cried, "Joan. I see you flying along without touching the ground." After the race Joan had a curious feeling as if she did not know where she was and then heard a young man's voice near her bidding her go home, for her mother needed her. She did not know who spoke; she thought it might be her brother, or one of her neighbours, so she ran home. She found that her mother had not sent for her, and she was going back to her friends, when a bright light like a shining cloud appeared to her, and a Voice told her to go and save France from the English. Till that hour she had been sorry for the sorrows in France, but as she was only a little girl, she had never thought that she could lead an army against the English. This is the first account that people heard of the coming of the mysterious Voices to Jeanne: it was written down about four years after the Voices first came, and six weeks after Jean's first great defeat of the English (in May 1429). Two years later, after Joan was a prisoner of the English, the French priests and lawyers who took the English side asked her thousands of questions about everything that she had done in her life, and the answers were written down in a hook, word for word. They asked her about these wonderful Voices. There were things that she refused to tell these priests and lawyers, but she did say this:— "When I was about thirteen there came to me...
Table of contents
The Life of Joan of Arc
CHAPTER I. THE CHILDHOOD OF JOAN OF ARC
CHAPTER II. HOW THE VOICES CAME TO THE MAID
CHAPTER III. HOW THE MAID OBEYED THE VOICES
CHAPTER IV. HOW JOAN HEARD NEWS STRANGELY
CHAPTER V. HOW THE MAID SAW THE DAUPHIN
CHAPTER VI. HOW THE MAID RODE TO ORLEANS
CHAPTER VII. HOW THE MAID SAVED ORLEANS
CHAPTER VIII. HOW THE MAID TOOK THE TOWN OF JARGEAU
CHAPTER IX. HOW JOAN DEFEATED THE ENGLISH IN FAIRFIELD
