Her noble blood was the cause of sufferings by which God wished to make her a prayerful soul, a pleasing victim and an example of unpretentiousness in the ambitious political scenario of fifteenth-century France.
In our days, marked with the sign of secularism, there is an effort to stamp out all suffering from life as if it were something noxious that separates us from the path of happiness. However, despite the fact that scientific breakthroughs have made it possible to control most pain, it is undeniable that physical and moral suffering is part of the human condition.
Given man’s natural inclination to egoism, he easily forgets his Creator in moments of well-being and success. Accordingly, adversity is a powerful aid for purifying the soul from attachment to creatures, obliging us to consider the limitations of fleeting goods and to turn to the sole Good, to God, on whom we may set all our hope. Those who face suffering with these dispositions acquire a respectable quality, becoming worthy of admiration.
Such is the dominant trait of St. Joan of Valois: her life evokes the heroism of one who shouldered a series of weighty crosses. Providence led this woman to the heights of sanctity by steep paths; pondering them may help us to accept our own setbacks with resignation, and to better understand the inestimable value of suffering in this valley of tears, the way chosen by Our Lord Jesus Christ to work the Redemption.
Dramatic birth in a royal setting
We often associate royal dynasties to the concepts of prestige, power, and beauty. But it seems that God willed the high birth of this child so that her noble blood would be the cause of her torments and, thus, of her transformation into a prayerful soul, a pleasing victim, and an example of unpretentiousness, flowering amid the ambitious political scenario of fifteenth-century France.
St. Joan of Valois, the second daughter of King Louis XI and Charlotte of Savoy, was born on April 23, 1464. Her father, an irascible and dominating man, longed impatiently for an heir who would assure the continuity of his lineage on the throne and, in anticipation, celebrated the arrival of a prince.
The monarch was incensed to hear that the queen had given birth to a girl, and blamed the infant for the supposed misfortune. Louis XI harboured an ungrounded antipathy toward the child; he refused to spend time with or pay any attention to his newborn daughter. Paternal aversion soon reached a peak when the physical disabilities of the princess became apparent. Her face and her overall physical constitution showed early signs of deformities which would become more pronounced as she neared adulthood; she would be hunchbacked and lame, with severely stunted growth.
Paroxysm of paternal contempt
The unloved child grew up in an environment marked by the king’s contempt; but the queen felt compassion for her daughter and instilled her with her own religious fervour, teaching her to turn to God as a good Father who loves each of His children infinitely.
From a young age, Joan displayed a meekness that was unexplainable in human terms; she uttered no complaint due to her limitations or to the thinly disguised aversion of almost everyone who knew her. Motivated by complete submission to God’s will, she accepted her situation and sought solace in the supernatural. She often requested her maids of honour to take her to a church so that she could give herself over to silent prayer.
Her devotedness was a further irritant to Louis XI, who considered her presence in the castle a nuisance. Fearing that the deficiencies of the princess would tarnish the splendour of royal house, he resolved to send her far away, separating her from the queen, whom she would never see again. To this end, he chose a distant fief entrusted to a noble and childless couple, the Barons of Linières.
Joan of Valois, yet a child at the time, left her family to embark on an uncertain future alone. The trials that awaited her would be no less painful than those of the first years of her life.
A promise of Our Lady
The Linières received the little princess in their domains, in the historical region of Berry, with a Christian attitude. Despite the familial and material abandonment to which Joan had been subjected, she eagerly applied herself to embroidery, playing the lute and performing manual tasks suited to a girl of her age. However, with her contemplative leaning, she dedicated most of her time to pious practices.
She fostered deep devotion to Our Lady, whom she loved as her tender Mother. One day, imploring the assistance she did not expect from any human power, she made a devout request: “O my Mother, teach me thyself what I should do to please thee!” 1 To which the Blessed Virgin replied: “My daughter, dry your tears, for one day you will flee from this world whose dangers you fear, and you will start an Order of holy religious dedicated to singing the praises of God, faithful in following my footsteps.” 2
When would this foundation occur? The Queen of Heaven did not reveal this, demanding yet another proof of confidence from Joan. Being so young, all she could do was pray and wait for a sign before daring to take any initiative.
Submission and heroic obedience
Paradoxically, with the passing of time, Louis XI decided to bolster his plans by using his daughter’s hand to best advantage. He shamelessly arranged a marriage favourable to the interests of the crown, leaving the Saint in a state of bewilderment.
He wanted her far from the court and she only wished to live for God. Nevertheless, with the aim of consolidating his authority in an unstable political scenario, and to reduce the risk of future rivalry with the Duke of Orleans, the king decreed the nuptials between his nephew Louis and his daughter Joan, eliminating a main adversary to the throne in a single stroke.
The wedding was held on September 8, 1476, when Joan was only 12 years old and the Duke of Orleans, 14. This episode was yet another example of the abnegated spirit of the princess in abiding by her father’s decisions, especially in face of the icy indifference of her husband, who did not so much as cast a glance at her during the ceremony.
Louis of Orleans, a young man of noteworthy natural gifts, lived a life of luxury in his castle, avoiding his sickly spouse from the outset, and publicly manifesting his antipathy. His behaviour toward her would always be one of open indifference, stooping at times to hostility, even at future crossroads when she would save his life.
Nevertheless, the rejection of Louis of Orleans in some way served Joan’s desires. Upon receiving the news of the marriage, she had knelt before a crucifix and implored the Lord not to disregard her intention to be completely consecrated to Him.
Healing balm: the arrival of St. Francis of Paola
Not all of the decisions taken throughout the reign of Louis XI were as unpropitious as the marriage of his daughter. One noteworthy good action in this monarch’s life was a decision he made shortly before his death. Having come down with the serious illness that would take his life in 1483, he resolved to bring a man of high virtue to his court in the hope of obtaining a miraculous cure from Heaven.
His choice fell on an Italian wonderworker named Francis of Paola, whose fame for sanctity had crossed the Alps and reached France. This outstanding apostle of charity received a papal order to attend the sick man, and he duly arrived, enlightened by inspirations from the Holy Spirit to do much good in French lands.
He patiently helped the king in his illness, but informed him that it was God’s will that the desired miracle not occur, for his time had come to depart from this world. The Saint prepared the sovereign to meet death with resignation, and remained in the country for several decades, during which he would guide the princess at decisive times in her spiritual life and the foundation of the Order foretold by Our Lady.
Repaying evil with good
Joan’s father died when she was 19, and after this the cross of her unwanted marriage began to weigh more heavily upon her, with episodes permitted by God to increase the merits of her crown of heavenly glory.
Just as Louis XI had desired, a son born after Joan succeeded him to the throne, with the name of Charles VIII. The suspicions of the young king with regard to his brother-in-law were not unfounded, for Louis of Orleans soon took up arms in an attempt to usurp the crown. His revolt against the State, known as the Mad War of 1485-1488, was put down in time and harshly repressed by the king. The Duke was sent to prison and condemned to death.
St. Joan of Valois perceived the ambition of those involved in this political and familial clash. Despite awareness of her husband’s guilt, she insistently solicited her brother for his liberation. Having spent three years in a dungeon, Louis of Orleans once again saw the light of day thanks to the patient intercession of his wife, yet he showed no gratitude to his benefactress. Indeed, he had refused to see or speak with her whenever she had visited him in prison.
Joan repaid her husband’s ill-treatment with sweetness, but his attitude only worsened when he became king after the death of Charles VIII, who left no heirs. One of the first measures of the newly crowned Louis XII was to finalize the marriage annulment process he had previously begun in secret, alleging to the Holy Father that he had been forced by his father-in-law to contract the marriage under pain of death.
With the paperwork phase and declaration under oath carried out, the annulment was granted by Alexander VI, signifying a final public humiliation for the Saint, who thanked the king with a prayer: “Blessed be the Lord who permitted this separation to help me serve Him better than I have until now.” 3 Impressed this time by her proven virtue, Louis XII made the sole gesture of deference toward Joan in his entire life, granting her in usufruct the duchy of Berry, which she governed prudently until her death.
Before leaving to take up residence in Bourges, its capital, Joan bid the king farewell in touching terms: “I express to you my gratitude as one would to a liberator, for you have freed me from the harsh slavery of the world. Forgive me for the errors I may have committed against you. I wish to expiate for them by consecrating my life to prayer for you and for France.” 4
Founding the Annonciades and edifying death
Now she was finally free from earthly fetters to fulfil the designs revealed by Our Lady when she was a girl. In a numerous exchange of letters, St. Francis of Paola confirmed the divine origin of the inspiration dating back to her tender youth, giving his approval for her to undertake the foundation.
The Saint, who, through all of her trials had kept her mind and heart fixed in filial contemplation on the privileges of Our Lady, gathered from among the maidens of Bourges a group desiring to imitate the Blessed Virgin in all her virtues, but especially her faith, charity, prudence, humility, poverty, obedience, piety, patience and devotion. Recognized in 1501 by the Holy See, the contemplative Order of the Annonciades, in honour of the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary, was founded.
Gathered around their noble superior, the first communities grew in number and holiness, until the new institute was solidly formed and established. At first Joan of Valois was divided between the administration of the duchy and the care of the religious, but gradually she kept more and more to the cloister, where she found true happiness.
In January of 1505, her deformed body, wracked by penances, showed signs of heart failure; the condition worsened, signalling her approaching death. On February 4 she serenely expired, surrounded by spiritual daughters and accompanied by a miraculous light which shone around her bed for an hour and a half after she had breathed her last.
In the palace of Louis XII, another light descended from the firmament marking the precise hour of the departure of the expiatory victim. She was now in God’s presence to pray for the king and for France. The monarch, moved and impressed by this divine sign, repented of his abusive treatment of her and ordered that his former spouse be rendered royal funeral services.
Leaving posterity a lesson of royalty embracing suffering, the life of St. Joan of Valois could be summed up in these sublime words of St. Augustine: “Although the good and the wicked suffer alike, we must not suppose that there is no difference between them, because there is no difference in what they both suffer. For even in the likeness of the sufferings, there remains an unlikeness in the sufferers; and though exposed to the same anguish, virtue and vice are not the same thing. For as the same fire causes gold to glow brightly, and chaff to smoke; and under the same flail the straw is beaten small, while the grain is cleansed; and as the lees are not mixed with the oil, though squeezed out of the vat by the same pressure, so the same violence of affliction proves, purges, and clarifies the good, but damns, ruins, and exterminates the wicked. And thus it is that, in the same affliction, the wicked detest God and blaspheme, while the good pray and praise. What matters then is not what ills are suffered, but what kind of person suffers them. For, stirred by the same movement, mud exhales a horrible stench, and ointment emits a fragrant odour.” 5 ◊
Notes
1 GUÉRIN, Paul. Sainte Jeanne de Valois. In: Les petits bollandistes. Vies des Saints. 7.ed. Paris: Bloud et Barral, 1876, t.II, p.263.
2 Idem, ibidem.
3 Idem, p.264.
4 Idem, ibidem.
5 ST. AUGUSTINE. De civitate Dei. L.I, c.8, n.2. In: Obras. Madrid: BAC, 1958, v.XVI-XVII, p.75-76.
