In the midst of those terrible times, during which for one hundred
years England and France were at war, there was born in the little
village of Domrémy a peasant girl, named Jeanne d’Arc. When she was
old enough she used to tend her father’s sheep, and as she sat on the
hillside, watching them day by day, she often looked out over the
ruined houses and blackened fields and wondered if the English would
ever come again to frighten her people and burn their peaceful homes.
Her father, too, feared the same, and so taught his little daughter to
ride a horse and to use simple weapons.
Later she heard that the dreaded English were back in France, not in
her own village, but besieging the brave town of Orleans. News came
that the Dauphin, who was now governing France, dared not go to Rheims
to be crowned, because the English troops held the place. One day as
Jeanne sat musing over all these rumors, wishing that she were a man
so that she might go and fight for her country, she saw a vision and
heard voices bidding her leave her home and deliver the Dauphin from
his enemies, so that he might be crowned king. So loudly and so plainly
did she hear these voices that she felt she must go to the French court
at once. She was so poor that she thought at first that she must go
afoot, but some kind neighbors gave her a horse. Then she put on men’s
clothing, instead of her coarse red dress, cut off her long black
hair, and rode bravely off alone.
[Illustration: Ingres JEANNE D’ARC]
The journey was long and perilous, for the country was
still full of robbers and free lances, but when it was over she found
that her troubles had only begun. The nobles met her strange story with
laughter and scorn, and refused to let her see the king. But finally
her sweetness and gentle manner prevailed, and she was led into the
presence of her sovereign. The story runs that the king, to test her,
had put on the simple robe of a courtier, and stood among the rest
of the nobles when Jeanne entered. But Jeanne went to him, without
hesitation, saluted, and said:--
“In God’s name, it is you, sire, and none other.”
There she stood, a simple shepherd lass, who could neither read nor
write, before a roomful of men of noble birth; but she was not afraid,
for she brought with her the faith that she was to save France.
Gradually, her soft voice, ringing with enthusiasm and loyalty, aroused
the king and his lords, and he granted Jeanne her request--she was to
go and relieve Orleans.
He gave her a big horse and pure white armor, and she herself sent for
a sword having five crosses on the blade, that she had seen in a dream
lying behind an altar in a certain church.
But at Orleans the people who were defending the city mistrusted her.
They tried to hide their plans from her, and made a secret attack in
the night on the enemy. But the shouts of war woke her from her sleep.
She hastily called for her horse and galloped into the midst of the
fight. The soldiers cheered her wildly, and now even the unwilling
captains were forced to listen to her. In the days that followed,
Jeanne, though twice wounded, was always at the front, urging on the
French and terrifying the English, who took her for a witch. She
entered Orleans on Friday, and a week from the following Sunday the
English had turned their backs forever on the city.
Jeanne did not linger to enjoy her triumph. Amid the tears of joy and
the cheering of the people, she rode out of the city the next day to
perform the rest of her task,--to crown the Dauphin king of France.
From far and near people came to see her, and a large army sprang up
around her and the king, eager to march towards Rheims. Still the court
delayed, for the nobles were jealous of Jeanne’s glory, but she was
firm in her faith and the people were with her.
The French first attacked the English who were holding Troyes. After
a six days’ siege the king was discouraged, for the food was growing
very scarce, but Jeanne begged him to hold out two days longer. When
he agreed, she mounted her horse and led the attack against the town.
The English, in terror, opened their gates before the assault began.
Thus the last difficulty was surmounted and the army marched safely to
Rheims. Here the king was crowned in the big cathedral, the brave young
peasant girl standing by his side.
Jeanne was now ready to go back to her father and mother, and the
tending of her sheep, but the voices still called her to drive the
English from the land. She stayed with the king and army, trying to
hasten an attack on the English. But the indolent king, listening to
idle tales from his jealous nobles, forgot all Jeanne had done for him
and France, and began to believe that she was a witch. At last Jeanne
was captured by the enemy. The English believed her to be a witch and
tried her for sorcery. The French king made no effort to ransom her,
and she was condemned to be burned at the stake. The sentence was
carried out, and thus the poor peasant girl gave up her life for the
ungrateful country she had saved from ruin.
--MAUDE BARROW DUTTON.
_From “Little Stories of France,” by permission of the American Book
Company._