JOAN of ARC MAID of MIRACLES
Virtue to Victory
by
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Richard the Archer (Scottish mercenary): …”On a certain road after we had crossed through the English territory, we were accosted by a band of brigands. Probably Frenchmen every one, either unpaid soldiers or just desperate men--of whom the world is full. They fell on us suddenly, and swords flashed while I quickly readied my bow. Above the din, I heard her ringing voice as if I had ears in the center of my soul. You’d think she’d be yellin’ for us to gie it laldy (fight with gusto)!--but nooooooo. Ah dinnae ken (I don’t know) how the voice of that wee lass, of a normal word as aptly feminine and soft as ever I heard, could sound as large and clear as a shout from atop the Cairngorms. Even so, at her bell-like command, every contender–to a man–stopped short as if frozen. Such a sprite she was, and commanding such a frenzied clash of fighting men, could be either mystery or miracle–one going unsolved by men and t’other only revealed by God Himself…” Lord Gilles de Rais (Marshal of France, Commander of the Royal Army): Do you wish me to mildly give factual recollections, when I am separated so completely from that glorious, righteous, miraculous time, when Jehanne d’Arc forever changed the course of the history of France--and of all who knew her, including myself? Her very name on my lips stings my soul with unending pain. How could I have known such purity--so many miracles before my eyes--and then have turned to meet with such disparity? Yes, I was there. At a mere 24 years of age, my gentler soul--the one at Jehanne’s side--witnessed it all. There is nothing I would not give to be as I was then. Those who were there described me as “generous and magnificent” with a large service company fit for a king, including my musical ensemble, made up of organs, choristers, and little singing boys from the choir school. How I loved the emotional charge of a great musical performance! Where better to electrify our greatest passions with blasting strains of stirring musical ovations than before the battlefield? What ridiculous extravagance it all seems to me now. If my broken heart can only pause in its suffering, that I may tell you of her. The Maid that truly saved us. In more ways than we could ever know…” La Rousse (Innkeeper): “I have received travelers and displaced persons of every type. All sorts have crawled over my doorstep. Having seen the blackest of rogues at my inn, I can tell you I know a thing or two about how to discern the intent of a person. Je vous mettrais mon grain de sel! [I’ll give you my grain of salt! (opinion)] What ridiculous absurdity that anything could be believed of Jehanne d’Arc except that she was, of all the crowds I ever did behold, of the most excellent merit and character. Of them all. The d’Arcs came to my inn for refuge from the Burgundian storm when our area was overrun with the blackguards. The entire family seemed aslog with shame over the chit chat at large concerning their daughter, Jehanne. Well, I can tell you that if every innkeeper were to jump at every blathering fool’s slander, I would appear as if my feet were put to hot coals every moment of every day! Any sensible observer could surmise that Jehanne was of the most upright character. I never saw anyone with so many appointments with God. Just because her family was displaced I suppose she would not have suddenly put on airs of piety for an obscure innkeeper such as myself, a bunch of strangers, and the others from Domrémy, many of whom knew her and seemed frantic with the itch of mockery over the poor girl’s recent foray to the court up in Vaucouleurs. Of my observations, even though she was displaced from home and all, Jehanne would venture to miss any church summons to prayer quand les poules auront des dents! [When chickens have teeth! (never)] Why would a girl be constantly worshipping and quoting prayers if it would just be garnering such vicious contempt for herself and her family, all of whom she obviously loved to distraction? No, this kind of religious zeal could only come from true devotion to God. And a more zealous practitioner I never did see, including the most holy robed church goers of them all--and I’ve seen the high and mighty red-velvety-robed sorts… They couldn’t hold a candle to Jehanne’s prayerful punctuality... Pierrin Drappier (church warden in Domremy): How many times I rang the bells at L’Eglise de Saint Rémy (The Church of St. Rémy) I cannot tell. The church still stands today in our little village of Domrémy. Over these many years, it has been somewhat changed by renovation, but still standing just across the graveyard is the d’Arc home, where God sent His saint to perform her saving work for all of France. “...I was, in those days, churchwarden at the church of Domrémy and often did I see Jehanne come to church, to Mass, and to Compline. And when I did not ring the bells for Compline, Jehanne would catch me and scold me, saying that I had not done well; and she even promised to give me some wool if I would be punctual in ringing for Compline.” Her father’s home being within the shadow of the church lent her a constant presence at the chapel and provided me with many opportunities to observe her. Of all the parishioners in Domrémy, she was better known to me than most, and surely there were none more faithful… Joan of Arc: “There will be many to give their praises of me in my younger years.Since all has been done in the Name of God, and… finished… it would be easy to remember only the most flattering accolades of the Maid. I can assure you that many were the mistakes that I made… Not knowing what others felt, I don’t know if my burning desire to know the One True God was unique in any way. Always in my waking thoughts, and held constantly as a prayer in my heart was my consideration of Almighty God; His children, His servants, His creations and my place in His great plan--these miracles were ever-present contemplations within my heart and mind. My parents told me as a child of… my birth…how the cocks crowed in such an unusual manner on that night of the celebration of the wisemen. This last day of our Christmas celebration was a remembrance of how the kings from the east brought and offered to Christ the symbols of His birth and mission: namely the gold, frankincense and myrrh. My parents told me that I was a gift to their family. I often pondered on how to be truly a blessing to my family, my village, and to all those who knew me… Many times, I would visit family in nearby towns when children were born or when extra help was needed for harvest or for tending to the animals… Our family was very close, and they would also visit us in Domrémy on occasion. Springtime Easter celebrations would draw our family and people all around our small town to the great tree there which I will tell you about. [From actual trial records] “Not far from Domrémy there is a tree called the Ladies’ Tree, and others call it the Fairies’ Tree, and near it there is a fountain.” My friends and I would make wreaths and hang them on the branches. “I have heard that those who are sick… drink at the fountain… to be made well… My godmother even told me that she had seen fairies there…” “I do not know whether, after I reached years of discretion, I ever danced at the foot of the tree…” In differentiating before my ‘years of discretion’ from the years after, I mean to point out that my gradually increasing desire to cause no offense to God modified my behavior. This place was of such beauty and peace that we were drawn to it. Over the years I learned how the entire region around this tree was steeped in many beliefs and legends. Great celebrations were held there in the spring. I wondered about the many generations past who had mingled beneath its wispy branches and what of their history the mighty tree had seen over the centuries…
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About the Book
A sweeping account of the works of the Great God of Heaven through Joan of Arc, Maid of France, is told here as never before by those who lived in her day and who knew her and fought alongside her. In the first pages of this volume (book one of a three part series) catastrophic devastations that rock all of Europe are carefully outlined, bringing the kingdom of France to its knees and nearly accomplishing the nation’s entire destruction. Just in time, the holy errand of Joan of Arc begins when she is first visited by heavenly personages Who mentor her for several years before she is sent to announce her mission to save the nation of France. Miracles ensue, confirming the heavenly edict that France will not be vanquished, as Joan rises from obscurity, fulfilling every prophecy concerning the coming of a saving Maid, who will redeem the country. She overcomes much adversity and leads the royal army to her first victory, breaking the English siege of Orléans and preventing the last great hold in France from falling to the enemy. With emphasis on the historical miracles manifested by the Lord of All throughout Joan’s quest, this account of her part in His-story--which has been authored by miraculous means in the actual telling--may be the most accurate ever to be presented to the world!
About the Author
T.C. Richert’s discovery of Joan of Arc and France materialized at a young age. The French language she first heard spoken by a teacher in her elementary classroom felt very familiar. Her knowledge grew of France when her relatives visited there and shared stories and pictures of the beautiful country which enthralled and inspired her. She also found that her paternal ancestry had immigrated from Lorraine (the region where Joan of Arc was born) in the 1840’s. T.C. Richert eventually became a true Francophile, permeating her college studies with these interests and completing a church service mission to France as an ambassador for Christ. A remarkable thing about the time she spent in France was that she mostly worked in Troyes and Orleans, places rich in the history of Joan of Arc–which were not of her own choosing. The statue of Joan of Arc in Orleans was located just outside her flat, and passing by the French heroine each day gave her courage and inspiration. Fast forward many years following a family and a teaching career, T.C. felt driven to research and tell Joan’s story miracle to miracle, much the same as she had seen in her own life. It seemed God brought R.L., a friend of many years, onto the scene with the skills that perfectly dove-tailed with her own, to compile this marvelous historical account of the Maid of France and her companions at arms. A love of Jehanne and her people who sacrificed with her and followed their own individual missions now fills the hearts of both authors and goes out to fill the world as well. First setting foot in France as a teenager, R.L. Montclair’s first experience of the country gave her a curiously negative perception. It was almost as if some force was determined to part her from anything having to do with France forever. Since that time, she noticed that gentle proddings to foster an interest in French culture kept littering her path. Hearing continually of the wonders of La France, she set out to either prove the world wrong, or change her own perception. While exploring family history she found her ancestors were from Provence, France, and she was drawn to the French language. Later, as a wife and mother, two of her four children were born on the same date: May 30, the date of the martyrdom of Jehanne d’Arc. In a life-changing journey, R.L. Montclair came to co-write this book and to treasure the rich history and wonderful culture of France. In the end, she can simply say with Jehanne–and the Reverend Ford–“We looked for the good in them, and we found it, didn’t we?” (quote from the movie, Pollyanna, adapted from the book, Pollyanna, by Eleanor H. Porter)