In the twilight of my long life, as the year of our Lord 1492 draws to a close, I, the Sieur Louis de Conte, find myself compelled to commit to parchment the sacred memories of my childhood companion, the Maid, Joan of Arc. I was born in Neufchâteau, a place of turmoil, but it was in the quiet village of Domrémy that my path first intertwined with hers. She was two years my junior, a simple peasant girl, yet even then, a profound wisdom and virtue emanated from her. She spoke with a certainty that defied her years, defending the village fairies to the priest and showing boundless compassion to the outcast.
Our childhood was spent in the shadow of the great "Fairies' Tree," a place of ancient tales and innocent games. It was here, amidst the rustling leaves and sun-dappled glades, that the first whispers of her divine calling reached her. I recall vividly the day she confided in us, her young friends, that she heard voices – the holy voices of Saint Michael, Saint Catherine, and Saint Margaret – who had chosen her, a mere girl, to deliver France from the English yoke and crown the Dauphin, Charles, as its rightful king. Though met with disbelief and even attempts by her parents to dissuade her, Joan's conviction was unwavering. Her eyes held a light that spoke of a destiny far grander than any of us could comprehend.
The day she left Domrémy, a girl of sixteen, to seek an audience with the governor of Vaucouleurs, was etched into my soul. She was resolute, her spirit aflame with purpose, and after persistent efforts, she secured an escort to Chinon, where the Dauphin resided. I, along with a few other companions, was privileged to follow her. At Chinon, her divine insight shone through when she identified the true Charles VII amidst a ruse, a feat that confounded the court. With an authority that seemed to transcend her youth and station, she persuaded the hesitant Dauphin to entrust her with the command of his army.
Under her banner, the demoralized French forces transformed. She led us to Orléans, a city long besieged and on the brink of despair. Her aggressive tactics, so contrary to the cautious strategies of the French generals, shattered the English lines. The siege was lifted, a miracle attributed solely to the Maid. From that moment, she was known as the Maid of Orléans, a beacon of hope for a nation weary of war. We marched on to Reims, securing the path for Charles's coronation, and I stood beside her as he was anointed King of France, a testament to her unwavering faith and divine mission.
Yet, the tide of favor is a fickle thing. Attempts to take Paris were thwarted by political machinations, and eventually, treachery led to her capture by the Burgundians. Her trial, orchestrated by the English and a corrupt ecclesiastical court led by Bishop Cauchon, was a travesty of justice. I, as her page and secretary, bore witness to the relentless accusations of heresy and witchcraft. She faced her inquisitors with an astonishing intellect and unwavering faith, her answers often outwitting their convoluted traps. Each day of that grueling ordeal was a torment, a slow crucifixion of a pure soul.
Despite her valiant defense, the outcome was predetermined. Worn down by physical and mental anguish, she was coerced into signing a false confession, only to recant it when her spirit rekindled. The English, desperate to break her and deny her martyrdom, condemned her to death. On that dreadful day in Rouen, May 30, 1431, I stood among the weeping crowd, watching as the flames consumed her. She died with her eyes fixed on a crucifix, calling upon the saints she had served so faithfully.
Though her life was cruelly cut short, her legacy endured. The memory of her courage, her purity, and her unyielding devotion to France ignited a fire in the hearts of her countrymen that ultimately led to the expulsion of the English. Now, an old man, I look back on her life, a brief, blazing comet across the dark canvas of history. She was, and remains, the noblest spirit I have ever known, a testament to the power of faith and the indomitable will of a young girl chosen by God. Her story, I pray, will forever remind us of true heroism and the enduring light of a righteous soul.
