Not far from the village of Domremy stood a lordly castle, long untenanted. In the garden was a chapel of Our Lady. In this garden Saint Joan, in her hours of relaxation, was fond of walking and meditating alone. And it may be that here she first heard those mysterious Voices which came to her again and again, bidding her leave all things and hasten to the relief of France, a mission to which she had been destined by Almighty God.
There are two accounts of the manner in which Saint Joan received this mysterious mission. The first of these relates that, being in her thirteenth year, she stood in her father's garden, alone, at midday, reciting the Angelas, Suddenly a peculiar light, brighter than that of the sun, seemed to surround her, and looking upward she saw the figure of an angel which later she identified as that of Saint Michael. Behind him hovered a multitude of smaller angelic forms, moving in the fight of his great but gentle majesty.
"Joan, Joan!" said the Archangel. "Be good and religious! Love God and attend Mass regularly."
She had always loved God and taken the greatest delight in going to Mass. But the vision made a great impression on Saint Joan and when it recurred again, the Angel said to her, "I am Michael, the protector of France." On another occasion he said, "Joan, the Kingdom of France is in sore straits," but promised her that the country would be saved, that God would raise a savior who would deliver the French from their enemies.
"Tell me his name!" cried Saint Joan. "Let me know who is to save us!"
"It is yourself, daughter of God," answered the Archangel. "Go you must!"
"But I am only a poor girl! I do not know my a, b, c's. I can not ride a horse or go to war!"
In spite of this declaration of her ignorance Saint Joan firmly believed in the words of the Archangel, which were afterward supplemented by advice and counsel from Saint Margaret and Saint Catherine, but as yet, in her humility, Saint Joan made no effort to act upon them, breathing no word concerning them except to her confessor, who, as is generally the case with priestly advisers, was slow to countenance her revelations.
As Saint Joan was always happy and gay, for a long time no one suspected the holiness of her life. Under a smiling exterior, she reflected a great deal, wondering, hesitating, yet never doubting the summons she quietly awaited, to enter upon a task which God had called her to fulfill.
Saint Joan was now past sixteen years of age and the Voices, positive and persistent, gave her no peace. She was bidden to go to Robert of Baudricourt, who lived in the Castle of Vaucouleurs. He was the commander of the last fortress of these provinces, which still belonged to France. A brave man, a rough soldier, accustomed to battle-fields and danger, as unlikely to give heed to the visionary announcements of this young peasant maid as any man could be, still he was the one Saint Joan had been told to seek as it was only through his assistance she could go to the King at Touraine, as she had been told by her Voices to do.
By this time Saint Joan had declared her mission to her parents, who thought her mad and refused to give her any assistance. But she relied on the promise of God, who, she felt assured, would send her the help which she patiently awaited. Nor was she mistaken, A cousin named Durand Laxart, who on account of his age she called "uncle," had come to visit the family, became greatly impressed by what Saint Joan told him and offered to take her whither she wished to go, if her parents would give their consent. This they finally did, though with reluctance, and Durand asked:
"What is it you would have me do, Joan?"
"Take me to Robert of Baudricourt," she answered, and they set forth.
But when they had arrived at the Castle and Durand had told their errand, Robert exclaimed:
"Your niece is mad. Give her a good beating and take her back to her father!"
"It will be another time, then," said Saint Joan, quietly, and they went their way home to Domremy. Saint Joan, at least, was not discouraged, as she had been warned by the Voices that at first she would meet with many obstacles. But we have no record of a beating!
It was in December, 1428, or January, 1429, that, accompanied as before by her cousin, Saint Joan once more left the home she was never again to see, save perhaps in dreams on the battle-fields, or within the gloom of her prison cell. She may have had a presentiment that she would not return, for this time she wept and dwelt with lingering glance upon the home and friends she was leaving behind. From the beginning this journey seemed more hopeful than the last. Won by her simplicity and piety, people were kind to her on the way. They even offered her garments like those worn by the soldiers, or similar to them, that is to say, a tunic and short skirt, instead of breeches, which Saint Joan, to the day of her death, refused to wear. She, no doubt, accepted them, for she was thus attired when setting forth to see the King.
"But are you not afraid?" they would ask. "It is a long way to Chinon, where the Dauphin is. The roads are infested with enemies who will stop you."
Saint Joan replied:
"I am not afraid of the men-at-arms; the way lies open before me. The Lord is on my side. It is He who will prepare the paths which will lead me to the Dauphin. I was born for that."
Disarmed by Saint Joan's persistence and seizing at any hope in the dark days of distress which were falling more and more heavily upon France, Robert of Baudricourt, at length consented to assist the young girl, whom people had already begun to call the "messenger of God." He wrote a letter to the King, gave her a sword, and bade her Godspeed. She was clothed in dark colors, doublet, hose, and a short skirt, with her hair cut short around her head, like a boy's. And thus, in God's name she began her journey to the King, victory, and glory, later, by a cruel turn of Fortune's wheel, to be succeeded by adversity, disgrace, imprisonment, and martyrdom.
The second account of the calling of Saint Joan differs but slightly from the first. An intelligent girl, given to reflection, as Saint Joan was from her infancy, would naturally hear and even see a great deal of the strife which was devastating the country. There was little else talked of in the villages, or around the evening hearth. Peddlers, pilgrims, and other travelers passing to and fro, would bring the news from day to day. The sorrows of her uncrowned King could not fail to touch Saint Joan's gentle, sympathetic heart, which knew but three loves: that of her family, her religion, and her sovereign.
It was in "the Oak Wood," on the edge of the village of Domremy, says this narration, that Saint Joan first saw her Visions. This wood, where, feeding on the acorns that covered the ground, the swine were also sheltered, was infested by wolves, of which the children of the neighborhood were very much afraid. Sheep were also pastured not far away, and it is said that Saint Joan had no fear of the wild animals, who never harmed her flock, whatever they might do to those of her companions. "The birds did perch upon her shoulders and her knees, feeding from her lap," says the old chronicle, "because she was a child of God and the Blessed Mary, and the saints loved her. Once when she was thirteen," it goes on to state, "she ran with the other girls a foot-race, for a prize, a bunch of flowers. So easily she won, so fleetly she ran, that her feet seemed not to touch the ground. One of her companions cried, 'Joan, I see you flying close to earth.' When she returned home her mother scolded her for remaining away, and the Maid was sad. It was then that for the first time a bright and shining cloud seemed to pass before her eyes and from the clouds came a voice saying, * Joan, you must change your course of life and do marvelous deeds, for the King of heaven has chosen you to aid the King of France.' After this the appearances continued day and night until Saint Joan went away."
"How did you know," inquired one of her questioners at her last trial, "the names of your heavenly visitors?"
"Because they told me. First came Saint Michael, and promised me the others, who afterward came. Angels were in their company. Their voices were gentle, beautiful, and sweet."
The Maid had seen and heard them in the wood, while tending her sheep, when communing in solitude with her own soul, when in recreation with her companions. She had never doubted their reality, never suspected or feared they might be evil spirits deceiving her.
The second and final attempt Saint Joan made, according to this recital, was in December, 1428, or January, 1429. She went first to the house of her cousin, Durand Laxart, who lived at Little Burey, between Domremy and Vaucouleurs. Discouraged by the passivity of Baudricourt, she left her cousin's house and repaired to Vaucouleurs, where she remained for three weeks at the house of Henri and Katherine Royer, who became very fond of her, persisting in their friendship to the end.
"Her first gleam of hope," writes Lang, "appears to have come from a young man-at-arms, aged twenty-seven, who had some acquaintance with her father and mother. He was named Jean de Metz, or from his estate, Jean de Novelonpont. He was one of those who might have said:
My harness is my house.
My land beloved - strike.
In heat and cold, by day or night.
War is my pride - my life!
"But his heart was true to France and the rightful king. While the Maid dwelt with the Royers in Vaucouleurs, about the first or second week of February, 1429, Jean met her in 'her poor red woman's dress.' Said he to her, 'My niece, what are you doing here? Must the King be walked out of his kingdom and must we all be English?' Saint Joan answered, 'I am come to a royal town to ask Robert of Baudricourt to lead me to the King. But Baudricourt cares nothing for me and what I say; none the less, I must be with the King by mid-Lent, if I wear my legs down to the knees. No man in the world - kings, nor dukes, nor the daughter of the Scottish King - can recover the Kingdom of France, nor hath our King any succor save from myself, though I would prefer be sewing beside my poor mother. For this deed is not convenient to my station, yet go I must, and this deed I must do, because my Lord so wills it."
"'Who is your Lord?'"
"'My Lord is God,'" said the Maid.
"He answered with an emotion that thrills us as we read. 'Then I, Jean, swear to you, Maid, my hand in your hands, that I, God helping me, will lead you to the King, and I ask when you will go?'"
"'Better today than tomorrow - better tomorrow than later.'"
We read that Robert of Baudricourt, in company with a priest, visited her at the house of the Boyers, and it was probably after this visit that he decided to yield to her entreaties. Certain it is that soon after this Saint Joan began her eventful journey. Friends whom she had made during her sojourn at Little Burey and Vaucouleurs, assembled to see her depart. And yet they were fearful of the perils she might encounter on the way.
"You should not go!" one said. "The roads are everywhere beset by men-at-arms." But she replied, "The way is made clear before me. I have my Lord, who makes the path smooth to the gentle Dauphin, for to do this deed I was born."
She bent and kissed the sword.
Bowed low to Baudricourt,
Ready all ills to face.
All perils to endure.
To friends a parting smile.
To Heaven an upward glance.
Then, through the gathering dusk,
She rode away to France.
- taken from A Child's Life of Saint Joan of Arc, by Mary Ellen Mannix