Hero Tales from History — Joan of Arc and the Lilies of France
JOAN OF ARC AND THE LILIES OF FRANCE
Five hundred years ago a little French peasant girl was working outside the stone hut where her father’s large family lived, when she heard, or thought she heard, a voice saying to her, “Joan, be a good child; go often to church.
” This Joan of Arc was so kind-hearted and so thoughtful for others that her friends made fun of her and said she was not like other girls; and her parents feared that she was growing too good to live.
But Joan only wondered and smiled, said her prayers, and went often to church.
When she was twelve or thirteen, she began to see visions and hear what she called “the Voices,” saying over and over, “Joan, trust in God; for there is great sorrow in the kingdom of France.
” “It must be St. Catherine and St. Margaret,” Joan said to herself, as she sat spinning for hours at a time.
What was the sorrow in France, and how could _she_ make things better just by being good?
She even doubted whether the visions she had seen and the Voices she had heard were anything but her own half-waking dreams.
One day she overheard the parish priest of Domremy, where she lived, telling of the troubles of France.
For almost a hundred years the kings of England had claimed and fought for the right to rule over France, and lately, under their soldier king, Henry the Fifth, had defeated the French and driven their armies into the southern part of their own land.
Henry the Fifth had died, but his son still claimed the French throne;
and the French prince, or Dauphin, as he was called, had not been crowned king, because the English held the city of Rheims, where all French kings were crowned.
The English armies were pushing southward to lay siege to the French city of Orleans.
Joan heard the good priest and her father and mother sighing over the sad day that had come when foreigners were fighting to make slaves of the French people.
And the dear Dauphin whom God had given them for their king was now flying from place to place before the armies of England.
After that day the Voices grew more earnest and definite.
“Go to the governor,” they urged her; “go and ask him to give you soldiers, and send you to the help of the king.
” Poor little Joan’s heart sank within her, and she protested, “I am only a young girl.
I don’t know how to ride or to fight.
They will only laugh at me.
” But the Voices kept on insisting, “Go!
go!
go!
and we will help you save France.
” Joan told her parents what the Voices were telling her to do.
Her father laughed and threatened to punish her if he heard any more of such talk, and her mother was afraid her strange little daughter was going to die.
Joan’s brothers and sisters made fun of her and asked if she wished to marry the Dauphin and be Queen of France.
But Joan had a kind uncle who loved and sympathized with her.
Her mother let her go to visit Uncle Durant, hoping her poor little girl might forget the Voices.
When Joan told her uncle what she kept seeing and hearing, he promised to help her all he could.
So he went with his anxious little niece to the governor of that part of France, and stood by her as she told the great man about the Voices, and repeated the latest command they had given her for him: “Send and tell the Dauphin to wait, and not offer battle to his enemies; because God will give him help before the middle of Lent.
The kingdom belongs not to the Dauphin, but to my Lord; but my Lord wishes that the Dauphin shall be king and hold it in trust.
In spite of his enemies he shall be king of France, and I will lead him to be crowned.
” “And who is your lord?
” demanded the governor with a sneer.
“The King of Heaven,” said Joan of Arc proudly.
The governor, who was a rough military man, laughed loud and long at the faith of the little peasant girl in a white cap, red petticoat, and wooden shoes.
Instead of doing as she asked, he told her uncle to give her a good whipping, to beat the foolishness out of her head, and send her home to her father.
Baffled and discouraged, Joan went home with her uncle.
But the Voices kept saying in her ears, “Go!
go!
” Back to the governor she went, but he treated her as badly as before.
Then they found another man to whom she told her story and added, “God in Heaven has told me to go to the Dauphin; with His help I must do it, even if I have to go on my knees.
” This friendly gentleman was deeply touched by her earnest words.
The people in the country who knew and believed in Joan of Arc pleaded with the men of influence in the neighborhood, and it was at last arranged that Joan should go and tell her story to the young king of France.
To see if God were guiding her, as she claimed, the king changed places with a noble in his court; but instead of going up to the pretended king who sat in the seat of honor, Joan walked straight to the prince, where he stood behind some men of the court.
It is easy to believe what we will.
The Dauphin listened to the burning words of the peasant girl with the pure, [Illustration: THE VICTORIOUS RETURN OF JOAN OF ARC TO ORLEANS.
_From the painting by J. J.
Scherer_] Madonna-like face.
After she had won the king’s approval it was not so hard for Joan to go on obeying the Voices.
Dressed in a suit of armor which shone like silver, she led a French army to the relief of Orleans.
She carried everywhere a beautiful white banner, embroidered with lilies.
The English laughed at that silly girl trying to be a man, and called her insulting names; but Joan did not mind, for she felt safe under the protection of the saints in heaven.
One day, in an attack upon a fort held by the English, the Maid, as the French army now called her, was wounded in the foot; but she would not stop fighting.
She mounted her horse again and led the charge as though nothing had happened.
The English then thought she was a witch--that is, a woman working for the devil.
In another battle an arrow was shot clear through her shoulder so that the barb stuck out five inches.
Then the enemy raised a shout of triumph.
“The Maid can be wounded and killed,” they yelled.
“She is not a witch, so we are not afraid of her.
” But one of Joan’s company pulled out the arrow and she led them fiercely in the assault.
The English soldiers were frightened, for in those days every one believed in witches.
Joan drove the enemy from one place to another until all the south country was cleared of the English forces.
Then the Maid of Orleans, as she was now called, led the king, with his court and the French army, to the old city of Rheims, where he was crowned, with great joy and splendor, as Charles the Seventh.
The Maid had put the lilies on her banner as the symbol of purity and of God’s love and care over France.
The French lily, or fleur-de-lys, has been the emblem of France through all the centuries since the days of Joan of Arc, the Maid of Orleans.
Now the Maid, who had done all that the Voices had commanded, was ready to return home to spin and to tend the sheep on the hills of Domremy;
but weak-hearted King Charles begged her to stay long enough to drive all the English out of France.
Against her wish, Joan yielded.
While fighting outside the walls of a town not far from Paris, she was surrounded by armed men of the enemy.
By mistake or through fear, some French people shut the gate in such haste that the Maid was left outside fighting a dozen soldiers single-handed.
She was captured and put in a dark, damp prison.
Here the poor girl, then only nineteen, was frightened and tortured to make her sign a paper confessing that she was a wicked witch, and that all she had done was by the help of the devil.
After waiting a long time in vain for the ungrateful prince, whom she had made king of France, to come and save her with his army, or to pay a large sum of money to ransom her, she was compelled to stand an unjust trial during which she was many times abused and insulted.
This wicked trial was conducted by a false bishop, who condemned that sweet, heroic young girl to be burned at the stake in the market-place of Rouen on the 24th of May, 1431. Twenty-five years after her death the Pope reversed the decision of the corrupt bishop.
In 1920, nearly five hundred years after the Maid was burned to death, high and holy men in the ancient Church to which she belonged took the great step of declaring Joan of Arc, the peasant girl of Domremy, one of the noble army of martyrs in the communion of saints.
