06/12/2023

JUNE OF ARC continues!  Mondays and Fridays all June long!

"Et surtout, n'oubliez pas que dans cette histoire, même en la jugeant - surtout en la jugeant - nous avons la charge de cette âme qui est dans ce petit corps faible et insolent "

L'Alouette, Jean Anouilh

And above all, don't forget that in this story, even if you are judging her - above all while judging her - we are in charge of this soul wich is in this little, weak and insolent body"

Château and Foundry of Tusey, Vaucouleurs, Lorraine region of France

Vaucouleurs river in Septeuil, Mantois region of France

January 12, 1429

Jehanne arrived this day with her uncle Lassois in the midst of a driving snow storm and found shelter with a Vaucouleurs family, Henri and Catherine le Royer.  Standing barely five feet-two inches, Jehanne was well-proportioned and muscular—accustomed to and unafraid of strenuous farm work.  Concealed beneath her long black hair, a dark-red birthmark ran down behind her right ear ending at the nape of her neck.

Although not a stunning beauty, Jehanne had large and mildly protruding blue eyes. Gentle and innocent in appearance, her luminous gaze instantly pierced the soul of friend and stranger alike.  She saw the world through kind, cheerful, and pious eyes, and tried to conceal a tendency to worry—especially about her ignorance of French politics or how to fight a war.  But she’d been sent here by God, and this wasn’t the first time.

In May of 1428—in response to the urgings of her “divine visitors”—Jehanne had gone to Vaucouleurs with the same uncle to get an audience with the local Governor, Sir Robert de Baudricourt.  He was the only one she’d heard of who could arrange a meeting for her with Charles VII, crown prince (aka the Dauphin) of France.  It was his army that stood between the English invaders and their attempt to take over France. 

But Baudricourt laughed at Jehanne back then and told her uncle to take the girl back home and give her a sound spanking.  But now Jehanne had come back, determined to change the Governor’s mind. 

 Several weeks later as a heavy rain pummeled Vacouleurs, she sent word from the le Royer home that she had a sign from God that would convince him, and she requested meeting.

The le Royers had readily agreed to have Jehanne stay with them.  Their friendship with Durand Lassois went back to their childhoods, and they were delighted to have this opportunity to assist in God’s work.  Like most of their neighbors, the le Royers required little convincing that the girl had been sent by God.

  The main room of the le Royer house was one of quiet comfort. On the left, as one entered from the street, a large open fireplace—hooded and large enough to roast an adult pig—crackled with burning oak scraps.  On the right, a well-crafted wooden door led to the inner house.  The doorway to the outside stood in the center of the outside wall and held a thick oak door that led down along stone steps to the street.  Inside and to the right of the huge doorway hung a tasteful crucifix made by Henri.  The furniture looked simple but carefully honed by a wood-working artisan.

Henri sat in one corner, whittling a small figurine.  Catherine and Jehanne sat in another, spinning wool together.  Just then, they heard the sound of galloping horses clattering through narrow streets, followed by the snorts and whinnies of several large animals coming to a sudden stop.  Heavy footsteps ran up the front stairs.  The front door burst open and a large soldier charged in. 

“Sir Robert is here,” he announced, soaked to the skin and out of breath.  “He’s mounting the steps this moment!”

The le Royers and Jehanne stood. 

Sir Robert de Baudricourt lumbered in through the open door and surveyed the room.  Thick through the shoulders with an enlarged girth, this loyal French captain possessed a large face and pug nose, offset with short, dirty blond hair.

While Sir Robert perused his host and hostess, another soldier entered and closed the door behind him.

“Why, Captain Baudricourt!” Jehanne blurted, blue eyes wide with surprise.  “You honor us with your visit, my lord.  How may we be of service?”

The Governor continued to stare at Catherine and Henri.  “I would like both of you to permit me and my two most trusted soldiers to be alone with Jehanne the Maid.”

The le Royers quickly withdrew.

Each soldier now moved to guard one of the entrance doors.

Baudricourt started to pace.  “You have a sign for me?   What sign?”

Jehanne sat down, hands clasped as if about to pray.  “Sire,” she began.  “You told me in our last meeting that if you only had a sign that I had been sent by our Father in Heaven —something I could only know from Him—that if I gave you such a sign, you would immediately dispatch me with an escort to the Dauphin in Chinon.  Is that not so?”

Baudricourt continued to stroll, alternately studying the floor and the faces of the two soldiers. “Aye, I recall speaking similar words.”

“Right now, Sire, as we speak,” she continued, eyes closed and tears streaming.  “The forces of the Dauphin are fighting a monstrous battle with the English in a town close to Orléans.  The Count of Clermont and Sir John Stewart, Constable of Scotland have both been badly wounded.  Our forces far outnumber theirs.” 

She paused and sighed.  “I should have been there to help.”

Sir Robert stopped walking and stared at Jehanne.  There was no logical way for her to know the names of any of the field commanders for the French.  How could she make such a statement?

No one spoke.  The sound of rain pounding on the building and streets filled the room.

Jehanne knelt down in the direction of the crucifix, crossed herself, and began to weep.

Amazed, Robert de Baudricourt stared down at the sobbing girl. Then he reminded himself that she came from a peasant family, lacked any military training or experience, and had no noble family connections.