Forests of The World
The Forest And Domr'emy
Domr'emy or Domr'emy La Pucelle in France was like any other little hamlet during the
1400's. A maze of crooked narrow lanes and alleys shaded and sheltered by the overhanging thatch roofs of the barn-like houses. Dimly lighted by wooden-shuttered windows. The floors were of dirt, and
there was very little furniture. Sheep and cattle grazing was the main industry; all of the young children tended flocks.
Outside of the hamlet on one edge was a flowery plain extended in a side sweep to the river Meuse; from the rear edge of the hamlet a grassy slope rose gradually, and at the top was the great oak forest.
In the forest, which was dark, gloomy and dense in an open space carpeted with grass
on the high ground towards Vaucouleurs stood a majestic beech tree with wide reaching arms, and by it a limpid spring of cold water. For hundreds of years children spent summer days there singing and
dancing around the tree for hours together. From time immemorial all the children reared in Domr'emy were called the Children of the Tree and they loved the name. Although Faeries were still there,
children never saw them; because the priest of Domr'emy had held a religious function under the Tree and denounced them.
Perhaps dear reader you have heard the Song of the Children.
Now, what has kept your leaves so green,
Arbre Fe'e de Bourlemont?
The children's tears! They brought each grief,
And you did comfort them and cheer
Their bruised hearts, and steal a tear
That healed rose a leaf.
And what has built you up so strong,
Arbre Fe'e de Bourlemont?
The children's love! They've loved you long:
Ten hundred years, in sooth,
They've nourished you with praise and song,
And warmed your heart and kept it young -
A thousand years of youth!
Bide always green in our young hearts,
Arbre Fe'e de Bourlemont!
And we shall alway youthful be,
Not heeding Time his flight;
And when in exile wand'ring we
Shall fainting yearn for glimpse of thee,
O rise upon our Sight.
.
Source: Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc, a work of fiction by Samuel Langhorne Clemens (Mark Twain)
Footnote: Joan of Arc is the only person, of either sex, who has ever held supreme command of the military forces of a nation at the age of seventeen.