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.