Joan of Arc in Real Life
Statue of Joan of Arc in the Plains of Abraham in Quebec City (Canada). Photo by Letartean.
Saint Joan of Arc is far more than a worthy subject for stained-glass windows, although that is how her biographers often portray her. Fortunately, we have the records of two judgments to set the record straight.
As is common with heroes deemed “larger than life,” Joan is seen through the changing lens of the times. When France was in danger, most notably in 1815, 1870, and 1914, Joan was recalled as patroness of soldiers, and in 1940, she was enrolled in the Resistance to the Nazis.
Diverse political camps have laid claim to the legacy of this Catholic saint. Even the Russian communists tried to expropriate her achievements, casting Joan as a daughter of the people who rose against the cowardice and ineptitude of the nobles.
The English, whom Joan fought, did not forget her. Should you visit the cathedral at Reims, you will see a standard of Joan of Arc embroidered by ladies from the English aristocracy. Such homage should not be overlooked.
Joan, in fact, plays multiple roles. The maid of Domremy goes hand in hand with the liberator of Orleans and the prisoner of Rouen. Joan’s struggles and eventual martyrdom remind us that she was a flesh-and-blood mortal who embraced life with enthusiasm — not some will-of-the-wisp lost in ethereal musings and mystic ecstasies.
The first judgment rendered against Joan in 1431 by Bishop Pierre Cauchon ended with her condemnation to death. It attests to Joan’s keen mind, brave heart, and devout soul.
The second judgment took place in 1454-1455. It declared the former sentence null and void and began the process of Joan’s rehabilitation. The judgment provides a wealth of information, as the Church questioned more than 100 persons in Domremy, Orleans, and Rouen. These included persons who had known Joan as a young girl, escorted her to Chinon, fought at her side, and finally those who judged and condemned her at Rouen. Coming from all walks of life, those interviewed included merchants, soldiers, village leaders, feudal lords, parish priests, and monks.
The maid of Domremy goes hand in hand with the liberator of Orleans and the prisoner of Rouen.
Maid of Domremy
The house where Joan was born in 1412 still stands in the heart of the village of Domremy in the province of Lorraine. The village has changed little to this day. Her family’s stone house was that of passably prosperous peasants — not quite a manor but more than a thatched hut. The Meuse River runs alongside the road, which, in turn, runs along the garden.
Jacques d’Arc, Joan’s father, was village dean, acting as a sort of vice-mayor. The family owned about twenty hectares. Joan had three brothers and a sister. Her mother, Isabelle Romee, recounts: “I raised her in the fear of God and in accordance with the traditions of the Church following her state in life, which was to live in the pastures and work in the fields.”
“It is from my mother that I learned the Our Father, Hail Mary, and the Creed,” Joan is to tell her judges in Rouen.
The faith that animated Joan arose from her heart. Since literacy was the province of the clergy, Joan, as a peasant, could neither read nor write nor could most nobles.
In sum, Joan was quite normal, undistinguishable from her peers in dress or other visible manners. From childhood, her mother taught her the domestic skills needed to care for a family. As she grew older, Joan began to work in the fields, watching the family’s sheep as they grazed in the village’s common pasture.
With the other boys and girls of her age, she would eat shortcake under the “fairies’ tree” on Sundays during “Laetare, Jerusalem” — a local custom with roots dating to the ancient Gauls. Joan cared for the sick and helped the poor “very gladly,” offering them the few coins she had. She would even give them her bed — often sleeping in front of the fireplace.
A pious girl, Joan was faithful to her prayers and took flowers to Our Lady of Bermont, to whom she was particularly devoted. When the bell rang for the Angelus, she would stop her work and drop to her knees in prayer. Her sole desire was to live her faith in the simple life of her village, like those who had come before her.
Planting the seed
“I was in my father’s garden and was fasting,” Joan recounts. “And a voice came from the right, towards the church.” She was 13 at the time and quite afraid. Thenceforth, she would be visited by the voices and apparitions of Saints Michael, Catherine, and Margaret. Saint Michael was especially revered in Lorraine, and the statues of Saints Catherine and Margaret still grace the village church. These saints would inform Joan that God had entrusted her with saving the kingdom of France and seeing that its crown was bestowed on Charles VII, the “King of Bourges.”
Joan’s piety redoubled without causing her to lose balance. By then, she was considered “the most virtuous girl in town,” as the parish priest would attest. What the good folks of Domremy — and even Joan’s own mother — did not know, was that a germinating seed had been planted in the soil of her soul.
