Welcome to the Deep Dive, the show engineered
to take your most complicated stack of sources,
the articles, the history, the dense research,
and distill the absolute essential must -know
insights you need, delivered with pace, context,
and zero fluff. Today, we are undertaking a deep
exploration of a life that remains one of the
most remarkable and, ironically, one of the most
meticulously documented lives of the late Middle
Ages. We're talking about Joan of Arc. Or Jeanne
d 'Arc. Exactly. And that documentation you mentioned,
it's really the key. Her life was just shockingly
brief, right? 19 years. Around 1412 to 1431.
Yeah, but because she achieved this spectacular
military success and then, you know, underwent
two massive legal proceedings. A condemnation
trial and then the rehabilitation. Right. And
because of that, we have this, I mean, this treasure
trove of direct testimony and legal records.
It's so unusual for a peasant woman from that
time. It really is. Which brings us to our mission
for you today. We're not just reciting the legend.
We are synthesizing her entire story, focusing
on the mechanism of her trajectory, how deep
religious conviction drove high -stakes military
action, and how that success made her the ultimate
political target during the tumultuous Hundred
Years' War. Okay, so let's unpack this. Let's
start with the woman herself. Her name originally
was Jahan Dark. We also see some historical variations,
like Tark or Dart. She was born into a, well,
a surprisingly established, propertied peasant
family in a village called Domremy. Her father
was Jacques Dark. And her identity, the name
she actually used, is so important. It is. She
didn't call herself Joan of Arc. She referred
to herself most frequently as Jeanne La Pucelle.
Joan the Maiden. Exactly. And this wasn't just
a nickname. It was fundamental to her entire
mission. It was about her virginity, which she
saw as the leading physical proof of her divine
mandate. And the name we all use today, the Maid
of Orléans. That came much, much later. Not until
the 16th century, really. It's also a crucial
detail that she came from a background where
literacy just wasn't a thing. Right. She was
an illiterate peasant girl. She wasn't taught
to read or write in her childhood. So all her
famous letters, her communiques, they were all
dictated. The idea that she might have learned
to sign her name later is debated. But her wisdom
and her political sharpness were completely separate
from any kind of formal education. Absolutely.
To really get a handle on Joan's impact, we have
to start with the catastrophe of her era. She
was born into a France that was just completely
consumed by the Hundred Years' War. This conflict
had been grinding on since 1337. Yeah, so for
almost a century by the time she was born. And
it was all rooted in English territorial status
in France and, more importantly, these English
claims to the French throne itself. So by the
time Joan is growing up in the 1410s and 20s,
France is just devastated. The economy is ruined.
And the leadership was completely fractured.
The political landscape was essentially a civil
war layered on top of an international one. A
big part of that was the leadership vacuum. The
French king, Charles VI, suffered from these
severe recurring bouts of mental illness. Which
left him, you know, functionally unable to rule
for long stretches. And that created the perfect
environment for these two major French factions
to just descend into a deadly civil war. Okay,
so let's break those down. Who were the two parties?
On one side, you had the Armagnacs. They were
the staunch supporters of the rightful heir,
the Dauphin Charles, who would later become Charles
VII. And on the other? The Burgundians. And they
were a huge problem because after their duke
was assassinated by Armagnac partisans in 1490,
they threw their lot in completely with the English.
So French nobles siding with a foreign invader.
Exactly. And this internal feud led to the 1420
Treaty of Troy. This treaty, signed by Charles
VI's own wife, Isabeau of Bavaria, was just the
ultimate act of political self -destruction for
the French crown. Because it completely disinherited
the Dauphin, her own son. It did. It arranged
for the succession of the French throne to pass
to the English heir, Henry V, who would marry
the French prince. And then just to add to the
chaos. The chaos really kicks in. In 1422, both
Henry V of England and Charles VI of France die.
almost at the same time. Wow. So the beneficiary
of that treaty becomes this nine -month -old
infant, Henry VI of England. And he's immediately
proclaimed king of an Anglo -French dual monarchy.
Which leaves the Dauphin Charles VII in just
a desperate, vulnerable position. Utterly. His
legitimacy was so tenuous, there were all these
political and popular rumors that he wasn't even
the legitimate son of Charles VI. Right, the
rumors about an affair between Queen Isabeau
and the Duke of Orléans. Exactly. And that doubt
was a massive So let's zoom in on Joan's specific
world. Dumb Remy. Her family, while they were
peasant farmers, they were doing okay. They were.
Her father, Jacques, owned about 50 acres of
land. He collected local taxes, even headed the
town watch. Joan herself was doing, you know,
the typical work of a girl of that status. Household
chores, spinning wool, helping in the fields.
But Damremi was basically an island. It was loyal
to the Armiacs, but surrounded by hostile, pro
-Burgundian territory. And those raids in 1419
and 1425, they weren't just abstract political
threats. They were violent, real events. And
this constant threat created this fierce community
belief. The only way to get peace was to kick
the English out. This is the fertile ground where
her mission really takes root. It is. Around
age 13, so about 1425, Joan had her first vision.
She was in the family garden. And she testified
that it was St. Michael. St. Michael, surrounded
by angels, appeared to her. And the intensity
of it was profound. She said she wept, just desperately
wanting to go with them. Her voices then became
a regular thing, often when the church bells
were ringing. And they included Saint Michael,
the archangel, but also two very specific female
saints. Saint Margaret, likely of Antioch, and
Saint Catherine of Alexandria. And the choice
of those two women is just, it's so symbolic.
It's deeply symbolic. Both were renowned virgin
saints who were tortured and martyred for their
faith. They defied powerful rulers while maintaining
their purity. They embodied that exact blend
of purity and, well, aggressive defiance that
Joan would come to represent. Absolutely. And
it was through these voices that she swore a
vow of virginity, which, as we said, became central
to her identity as La Bruxelles. And this commitment
was even tested locally, right? There was a court
case. There was. A young man from her village
claimed she'd broken a promise to marry him.
She went before an ecclesiastical court and said
she'd made no such promise and that her vow to
her voices superseded any earthly contract. The
court just dismissed the case. And at the same
time, in the bigger picture, there were these
prophecies floating around France. Prophetic
currents, yeah. And her story fit them perfectly.
A popular prophecy stated that France, which
had been destroyed by a woman, referring to Queen
Isabeau in the Treaty of Troy, would be saved
by an armed virgin. So by 1428, she's ready.
She travels to the nearby town of Vaucouleurs
and petitions the garrison commander, Robert
de Baudricourt, for an escort to the Dauphin
at Chinon. Her first attempt was a flat -out
refusal. He basically laughed her off and sent
her home. But the war was reaching its climax.
By July of 1428, the English had laid siege to
Orléans. And this city was strategically vital.
It was the last major stronghold preventing the
English from just pouring into the rest of Charles'
territory south of the Loire. If Orléans fell,
the French cause was, for all intents and purposes,
finished. And the final straw. The thing that
finally swayed Baudricourt was the Battle of
the Herrings in early 1429. Such a demoralizing
defeat. An Armagnac relief convoy was just annihilated
by the English. It was crushing. And it highlighted
just how desperate the situation was. Baudricourt
relented only after that disaster. He did. He
provided the escort. And crucially, before leaving,
Joan cut her hair short and put on men's clothes
given to her by her escorts and the locals, a
choice that was rooted in practicality, spirituality,
and necessity, and one she would maintain for
the rest of her very short life. So with her
escort, she travels across enemy territory to
Chinon. She arrives in early 1420. She's just
17 years old. And she's there to meet the Dauphin,
Charles VII, who's 26. Her goals were so clear
and immediate. First, relieve the brutal siege
of Orléans. And second, lead Charles to Rheims,
the traditional site of French coronations, for
his consecration. The most famous part of this
meeting, though, is what happened in private.
As we discussed, Charles was just paralyzed by
doubts about his own legitimacy. Joan's intervention
here wasn't tactical. It was psychological. It
was political. In that private moment, she somehow
convinced him that he was, in fact, the legitimate
son of Charles VI. And that reassurance was exactly
what he and his entire court needed to break
their inertia. Her belief gave him the certainty
that he lacked. But the court, you know, it was
full of skeptical noblemen and cautious theologians.
They needed public proof before they committed
the kingdom's resources to some peasant girl
who claimed she was getting messages from God.
So they put her through the wringer. Absolutely.
She was subjected to three rigorous tests of
legitimacy. The first was the theological test
at Poitiers. Right. A council of theologians
who were highly skeptical of private revelation.
They examined her very, very carefully. And their
final report was actually pretty pragmatic. They
concluded she was a good person and a good Catholic,
and they couldn't find any immediate theological
flaw. But they didn't exactly endorse her. No,
and this is where you see the pragmatic medieval
mindset. They decided that the source of her
inspiration would be judged by results. The proof
wasn't in her words. It was in her actions. They
would test her divine commission by sending her
to Orleo. Exactly. If she succeeded in lifting
the siege, that would be the sign they needed.
Okay, so test number two was... Much more personal.
It was. The physical verification of her virginity
at tours. Women, directed by Charles's very shrewd
mother -in -law, Yolande of Aragon, performed
this inspection. And this was absolutely vital.
It wasn't just about confirming her status as
the prophesied virgin savior La Pucelle. No,
it was also a theological safeguard. If she weren't
a virgin, she could be immediately condemned
as having consorted with the devil. So this was
a critical checkbox. Once those two hurdles were
cleared. The Dauphin was reassured enough to
fully equip her. He commissioned a full suit
of plate armor for her, a massive expense. She
designed her own banner and famously requested
a specific ancient sword that was said to be
buried under the altar at a church. Saint Catherine
de Fierbois. That's the one, and the psychological
shift she represented, you just can't overstate
it. Before she arrived, the Armagnacs were a
broken disp - bearing force. They'd been at war
for nearly a century. And even if the strategic
situation wasn't completely hopeless, the English
were arguing among themselves, the Burgundians
were wavering, the French morale was just...
And Joan changed all of that. Completely. Her
absolute, unwavering conviction transformed what
had been a technical, diplomatic squabble over
inheritance into a righteous, religious war for
the salvation of France. She gave the soldiers
a reason to fight that was bigger than their
loyalty to a disputed Dauphin. You see that change
immediately. Before she even gets to Ornelas,
she dictates this ferocious letter to the Duke
of Bedford, the English commander. It's not a
diplomatic note. It's a divine ultimatum. She
warns him that she was sent by God to expel them
and demands they leave immediately. So the campaign
finally begins with the siege of Orléans. She
arrives with a relief army on April 29th, 1429,
and the city... which was starved and exhausted,
just greets her with massive enthusiasm. But,
you know, despite her eventual fame, at first
she was treated as a morale -boosting figurehead,
not a commanding officer. Right. She wasn't included
in the military councils. She wasn't given formal
command. A fact she later testified to. But she
became a force multiplier. She used her banner,
her symbol of divine authority, and just her
sheer presence on the front lines to inspire
the troops. And that inspiration quickly turned
into real influence. all the effects she had,
how ready the troops were to charge when she
was there. And they started taking her tactical
advice. You see it play out immediately at the
Bastille de Saint -Louis on May 4th. The Armagnacs
had attacked and were actually retreating after
a failure. Joan shows up and her appearance alone
rallies them. They turn around and launch a second
assault. Driven by this new divine fervor. And
they take the fortress. The next day, May 5th,
was Ascension Thursday. A holy day. And she respected
that. No combat. Instead, she dictates another
warning letter to the English, famously ties
it to a crossbow bolt, and has it fired into
their lines. The main push came on May 6th. Right.
They took a position the English had abandoned,
Saint -Jean -le -Blanc. The commanders, always
cautious, wanted to consolidate. But Joan pressed
them to attack Les Augustins. A fortress built
around a monastery. And they captured it. And
again, the commanders hesitated. They wanted
to pause, consolidate their gains. And again,
Joan pushed them to ignore caution and keep going
toward the main English stronghold, Littoral.
The decisive action was May 7th. She was right
in the thick of it, holding her banner. When
she was seriously wounded, an arrow struck her
between the neck and the shoulder. An injury
like that would have sidelined most people for
weeks. But she returned later that same day,
wounded but defiant. And she encouraged the final
successful assault that overwhelmed and captured
Le Tourelle. The result was just immediate and
spectacular. The English commanders, seeing the
defeat and the total collapse of their men's
morale, just retreated from Orléans the next
day, May 8th. The siege was over. And this is
the moment where the political and theological
significance just crystallizes. Remember that
test at Poitiers? They said success would be
the sign. And the lifting of the siege was instantly
interpreted by the French clergy, including prominent
figures like Archbishop Jacques Jaloux and the
theologian Jean Gerson, as the unambiguous sign
that proved her divine origin. And on the other
side. For the English. For the English and their
Burgundian allies, the fact that a peasant girl
could so rapidly defeat their professional armies
was equally and immediately interpreted as definitive
proof of demonic possession. The stakes were
no longer just military. They were cosmic. Joan,
capitalizing on this huge momentum, insisted
on a swift advance to rhymes for Charles' coronation.
Charles agreed, and the Loire campaign was designed
to clear that path. She accompanied the army
under the command of John II, Duke of Alençon.
And Alençon was a key ally for her. He was. Unlike
some of the other cautious nobles, he really
respected her counsel and collaborated with her,
which strengthened her ability to act on the
battlefield. So in June 1429, the objective was
to clear the bridge towns along the Loire, Jargaud,
Mingsou Loire, and Bechoncy. At Jargoe on June
11th, Joan advocated for a direct assault and
they captured it the next day. And again, she
showed incredible personal bravery. She was actually
struck by a stone that split her helmet while
she was scaling a siege ladder. Just incredible
tenacity. And it's worth noting in that Jargoe
capture, many of the English who surrendered
were killed. This was brutal medieval warfare.
It was. The army moved fast. June 15th, they
took the bridge at Nung Sur Luar, and by June
18th, the English garrison at Burgensee just
surrendered. Which was a bit premature on their
part. Very. The English commander had no idea
that a major relief army under Sir John Fastolf
was approaching from Paris. So when the Armagnacs
learned that Fastolf's army was retreating, Joan
urged an immediate aggressive pursuit. And the
two armies met that afternoon, June 18th, at
the Battle of Pate. Fastolf had prepared an ambush
with hidden archers. But the Omnyak vanguard
detected them and scattered them before they
could even get set up. The whole thing was less
a battle and more a rout. The English army was
decimated. And Joan wasn't in that initial charge.
But her insistence on the rapid pursuit was credited
by everyone with making that crushing victory
possible. The string of wins was just... The
path was now open. The march to Reims began on
June 29th. The Armagnac army advanced virtually
unopposed. Towns that had resisted Charles for
years, like Auxerre, they just switched their
allegiance. Troyes held out for four days, but
Joan just ordered an assault preparation and
the town immediately surrendered. It's a perfect
illustration of the power of her reputation by
that point. The sight of her and her army was
enough to break the will of defenders. And then
the ultimate political validation. Reims, the
traditional city of consecration, opens its gates
on July 16th. But the euphoria of Reims faded
very quickly. With Charles now crowned, the,
uh... Cautious, traditional political establishment
went right back to its old habits. Calculation,
diplomacy. And this spelled trouble for Joan's
aggressive, divinely mandated style of warfare.
Right. The court immediately prioritized political
negotiation. Charles entered into a 15 -day truce
with the Duke of Burgundy. Who promised to transfer
Paris to Charles, but it was just a political
feint. He reneged on the promise entirely. And
this political drift caused immense frustration
for Joan and her ally, the Duke of Alençon. They
argued vehemently for a rapid march on Paris
to capitalize on their momentum. Instead, the
court's slow advance, bogged down by fruitless
negotiations, just wasted valuable strategic
time. They finally launched the assault on Paris
on September 8th, and it was a catastrophic failure.
The Armagnacs suffered 1 ,500 casualties. Joan
herself was struck in the leg by a crossbow bolt
and had to be rescued from the trench beneath
the city walls after nightfall. The consequences
for her influence were swift and devastating.
The very next morning, Charles VII ordered an
immediate halt to the attack, had a key bridge
dismantled, and forced a retreat. Joan was profoundly
displeased, arguing fiercely for the attack to
continue. And that failure at Paris was the turning
point for the court's faith in her. Her aggressive
strategy no longer aligned with Charles' preference
for a negotiated peace. And the scholars at the
Pro -English University of Paris immediately
seized on the failure, arguing publicly that
her inability to take the capital proved her
inspiration was not divine. The sign of Orléans
was suddenly being questioned. So Charles responded
by actively minimizing her role. He disbanded
the army that had marched to Reims. And critically,
he prevented her from working with her trusted
military ally, Alençon, ever again. She was deliberately
sidelined. She was sent on a smaller campaign
against a brigand captain. She did manage a success
at the siege of Saint -Pierre -le -Moutier in
November. But her reputation took another hit
right after that. The siege of La Charité sur
l 'Or failed. They were forced to abandon their
heavy artillery in the retreat, which was a huge
material loss and a blow to her military credibility.
Despite these diminishing returns, Charles did
reward her family. In December 1429, he ennobled
Joan and her family for their service. Which
shows that while he might have been sidelining
her militarily, he still recognized her immense
political and symbolic value. But during the
extended truce with the Burgundians, which lasted
until Easter of 1430, the royal court just had
no use for her. Her whole purpose driving military
success was suspended in favor of diplomacy.
But the truce was fragile. The Duke of Burgundy
began reclaiming towns, including the vital town
of Compiègne. And Joan, driven by her mission,
organized an expedition of volunteers at the
end of March 1430 to relieve the siege. This
was basically an unauthorized military action.
Essentially, yes. She proceeded without Charles'
explicit documented permission, though it's highly
probable she had some financial backing from
the court. It suggests Charles sort of tolerated
it. to keep pressure on the Burgundians without
officially breaking the truce himself. Her final
military success was at Lannes -sur -Marne, where
her troops defeated a mercenary captain named
Franquette d 'Aura. And typically, a commander
like that would have been ransomed for a huge
sum. But Joan insisted on putting him on trial
and allowed the townspeople to execute him. Which,
while popular with the locals, showed a disregard
for the established rules of warfare that many
nobles relied upon. And then the end came, brutally.
On May 23rd, 1430, during a desperate failed
sally from Compiègne against the Burgundian camp,
Joan was pulled from her horse and captured.
For the English and Burgundians, this was a massive
propaganda victory. They didn't just capture
a military leader. They captured the symbol of
French divine providence, and they moved her
between several castles while they negotiated
her fate. The pressure on the Burgundians to
hand her over to the English was immense. Driven
largely by Bishop Pierre Cauchon of Beauvais,
a fervent... pro -Burgundian partisan who saw
a clear path to political advancement by prosecuting
her. The negotiations concluded in November.
The English paid a massive 10 ,000 livres tournois
for her ransom. And to put that into perspective
for you, that was an astronomical amount, the
equivalent of ransoming a major noble. It shows
the English crown's absolute commitment to getting
their hands on her, not for military purposes,
but for a trial. And this is the fact that continues
to haunt French history. Once she was transferred
to English custody, there was no documented evidence
that Charles VII made any official attempt to
save her. None. So why? Was it just the cost?
Was it that he'd already sidelined her and she
was now a political liability? It was likely
a cruel convergence of all of those things. The
ransom was high and the political cost of trying
to retrieve a potentially compromised asset,
one whose divine mandate was now openly questioned,
was simply too great. By letting the English
have her, Charles could distance himself from
the controversy. The military savior had become
the political liability. Exactly. And we have
to mention her sheer desperation during captivity.
She made two escape attempts. One involved a
dramatic jump from a tower into a dry moat, which
injured her. It just shows her absolute refusal
to accept her fate passively. The trial began
in Rouen on January 9th, 1431, and it was a masterful
piece of political theater. It was strategically
disguised as a purely ecclesiastical inquiry
into heresy. Which allowed them to bypass the
laws around treating her as a prisoner of war.
Right. And the objective was crystal clear and
purely political. Destroy Charles VII's legitimacy.
If Joan, the woman who led him to his coronation,
could be proven a heretic acting under demonic
influence. Then Charles. was consecrated by an
agent of the devil, his claim to the throne would
be invalid and the English claim for Henry VI
would be strengthened. The outcome was predetermined
by the structure of the court. The presiding
judge was Bishop Pierre Cauchon, a French partisan
loyal to the Burgundians and heavily subsidized
by the English crown. And the composition of
the court cemented that bias. Of the 131 clergy
who participated, nearly all were French. Which
sounds fair on the surface, but they were overwhelmingly
pro -Burgundian and pro -English, with many scholars
from the University of Paris, which was the intellectual
stronghold supporting the Anglo -French monarchy.
The entire process was just rife with irregularities,
directly violating canon law. For one, Joan should
have been held by the church in an ecclesiastical
prison and guarded by women. Instead, she was
deliberately kept in chains by English male guards,
which guaranteed her mistreatment. And second,
Cochon failed to establish her infamy beforehand,
which was a prerequisite in canon law for charging
someone as a heretic. He just skipped the step.
Furthermore, she was denied legal counsel, which
was essential given the complexity of the theological
traps they were laying for her. The charges weren't
even read until well into the interrogations.
And later investigations showed strong evidence
that the trial records themselves were falsified.
The illegitimacy of it was even recognized internally.
One cleric stepped down because he believed the
testimony was coerced. Another who challenged
Koshan was jailed for it. But despite all of
that pressure, Joan showed remarkable control
during the interrogations. She really did. She
managed to force her inquisitors to ask questions
sequentially and often just demanded that sessions
end when she felt they were becoming too abusive.
And this brings us to that famous theological
trap question. Ah, yes. She was asked if she
knew she was in God's grace. Which was designed
to be an immediate confession of heresy. If she
said yes... She committed the heresy of presumption.
If she said no, she confessed her own guilt.
And her response was just stunning in its prudence.
She said, If I was not in God's grace, I hoped
God would put me there. And if I was in God's
grace, then I hoped I would remain so. It completely
evaded the trap and revealed a theological subtlety
that just shocked her highly educated interrogators.
They even considered using torture to break her
resolve, but the assessors rejected it by majority
vote after she refused to be intimidated. The
political machine just kept churning. In early
May 1431, the heresy charges were officially
approved by the University of Paris. And on May
24th, at the churchyard of Saint -Ouen, she performed
her act of abjuration. She publicly agreed to
submit to the church's authority. She signed
a document agreeing not to bear arms or wear
men's clothes again. There's another irregularity
here. The document she actually signed might
have been only eight lines long, but the official
trial record later replaced it with a much longer
More damning text. Right. So after the abjuration,
she was legally considered a penitent. She switched
to a woman's dress. Her head was shaved. And
the crucial part of the agreement was that she
would be transferred to an ecclesiastical prison
with female guards. But the English immediately
violated that. They sent her right back to her
original cell in chains under the custody of
the English male guards. Witnesses at the later
rehabilitation trial testified to the mistreatment
and alleged sexual assault attempts she endured.
Witnesses also suggested that the guards intentionally
put the male garments back in her cell, effectively
forcing her hand. And when Cauchon visited her
cell on May 28th, Joan explained her decision
to resume wearing them. She cited two practical
reasons. The necessity of male dress for protection,
and the fact the judges had broken their promises
to move her and let her attend mass. But the
decision to wear the clothes was the smallest
part of it. The truly damning statement came
when Cauchon asked about her voices. And she
stated clearly that the voices had rebuked her
for abjuring out of fear and that she would not
deny them again. And that refusal to deny her
voices was the point of no return. It was. Since
her abjuration required her to deny her personal
revelations, her return to affirming them was
sufficient evidence to convict her as a relapsed
heretic. And once she was a relapsed heretic,
the church's hands were canonically clean and
the state could execute her. Two days later,
on May 30, 1431, at about 19 years old, Joan
of Arc was led to her execution. In a final,
strange act of minor clemency, she was allowed
to receive the sacraments that morning, which
was highly unusual. She was taken to Rouen's
old marketplace, and legally, she should have
been transferred to a secular official for sentencing.
But instead, she was delivered directly to the
English authorities, ensuring the execution remained
firmly under their political control. She was
tied to a tall, plastered pillar for burning.
In her final moments, she asked to see a cross.
An English soldier, perhaps moved, fashioned
a simple cross from a stick. A processional crucifix
was also brought and held before her eyes as
the execution began. And to prevent any relics
from being gathered, her body was completely
burned and her remains were thrown into the Seine
River. The English hoped her execution would
crush the French resistance. But ironically,
it didn't. Her triumphs had provided this irreversible
spiritual boost to the Armagnacs. The momentum
continued, and by 1453, the English were expelled
from all of France except Calais. But the heresy
verdict was still a huge political problem for
Charles VII. If the woman who led him to his
coronation was officially a heretic, his entire
claim to the throne was tainted. So he needed
that judgment legally overturned. And the process
began relatively quickly. In 1450, Charles ordered
the first inquest. It concluded that the original
judgment was arbitrary. A second, more intense
inquest followed in 1452, led by Cardinal Guillaume
de Stuteville and the Inquisitor of France, Jean
Bréal. They interviewed about 20 original witnesses.
And they found conclusive evidence of systemic
bias and procedural fraud. The political climate
was finally right. After the English were expelled,
the path was clear. Pope Calixtus III granted
permission for a full rehabilitation trial, which
began in November 1455 at Notre Dame. It was
a very public event. Joan's elderly mother, Isabelle
Romay, publicly requested her daughter's rehabilitation,
turning it into a public act of restitution.
The trial concluded on July 7th, 1456. And the
verdict was conclusive. The original 1431 trial
was declared unjust, fraudulent, and deceitful.
Her abjuration and execution were formally nullified.
And in a powerful symbolic gesture, a copy of
the original articles of accusation was publicly
torn up and a cross was ordered to be erected
on the very site of her execution in Iran. One
of the most complex parts of her life, and the
one her condemnation hinged on, was her clothing.
The male garments and short hair were explicitly
singled out as the emblem of her heresy. The
legal argument was that cross -dressing was a
defiance of God's order. But Joan's rationale
was entirely practical and spiritual. Right.
She claimed divine command that the dress was
necessary for her mission as a warrior. And she
also cited the practicality of armor and, crucially,
using men's clothes for protection against rape.
Which is why she immediately put them back on
when she was returned to the cell with male guards.
And the theology on this wasn't even black and
white. Thomas Aquinas had permitted cross -dressing
when necessary to hide from enemies. Jean Gerson,
a prominent French theologian, had publicly deemed
her male clothes appropriate for a warrior. So
scholars today argue her clothing wasn't about
deception, but transcendence. It helped her cement
her unique identity as La Pucelle. It allowed
her to operate in a man's world without conforming
to traditional female expectations, serving as
a powerful sign of her unique status that transcended
conventional gender roles. And her legacy as
a national symbol began almost immediately. The
city of Orléans began its annual celebration
of the lifting of the siege in 1429, a celebration
that continues to this day. For centuries, her
legacy was tied strictly to the divine right
of the monarchy. Which meant during the French
Revolution, her reputation was questioned because
of those monarchical links. But her power as
a symbol of French independence was just too
great to ignore. Napoleon authorized the renewal
of the festival in 1803. He said she proved that
there is no miracle which French genius cannot
accomplish when national independence is threatened.
She officially became the defender of the nation,
separate from the monarchy. And that's the enduring
power of her myth, right? She's been a rallying
point across the entire political spectrum. Absolutely.
After the Franco -Prussian War, she was the symbol
of reclaiming Lorraine. During World War II,
Vichy France, the Free French, even the communist
resistance all invoked her image. She remains
a crucial political reference point today. Her
status in the church also advanced. Beatified
in 1909, canonized in 1920. And in 1922, Pope
Pius the Aleph declared her a patron saint of
France. But let's get into that theological nuance.
She was canonized as a virgin, not a Christian
martyr. Why the distinction? She was burned at
the stake. It's a complex but crucial point.
She was executed by a court that, despite its
massive bias, was considered canonically constituted.
They didn't execute her for denying the core
tenets of Christianity, the divinity of Christ,
for example. They executed her for private revelation.
Exactly. For her personal, direct communication
from God. Her voices, which she refused to deny.
In the court's eyes, denying her voices was disobedience
to their judgment, not denial of universal church
dogma. She died for obeying what she personally
believed was God's direct command. Nevertheless,
she's been popularly revered as a martyr ever
since. For her purity, her convictions, and her
country. And finally, let's return to the source
of it all. The mystery of the visions. Theologians
of her era believe supernatural visions are possible.
The trial assessors just sought to prove them
demonic. And the rehabilitation trial was legally
cautious. It nullified the sentence, but never
actually declared the visions authentic. It wasn't
until 1894 that Pope Leo III pronounced her mission
as divinely inspired. And in the modern era,
speculation has tried to rationalize the experience.
Diagnoses from epilepsy and ergot poisoning to
schizophrenia have been suggested. But the critique
of those modern diagnoses is strong. Scholars
argue that the primary source material, the trial
records, were highly biased documents specifically
created to prove her guilty of heresy. They are,
you know, poor, unreliable sources for an objective
medical diagnosis. Regardless of the medical
truth, we know the impact was profound. Her absolute
belief in her voices gave her extraordinary confidence,
self -trust, and the inner strength that sustained
her through her captivity and trial. So what
does this all mean for you, the learner? We've
traced Joan of Arc's life, how a deeply religious
peasant girl, propelled by divine certainty,
became a military savior, only to be rejected
by the very king she crowned and destroyed by
a hostile political legal machine. Her entire
legacy rests on the knife edge of her unwavering
personal conviction. And the paradox of her identity
is what defines her enduring power. She gained
legitimacy through her virginity, a symbol of
traditional female virtue, yet she was condemned
and later celebrated for explicitly transcending
gender roles through her men's clothing and her
command of men in battle. This leaves us with
a final provocative thought, something for you
to mull over. Joan insisted her male clothing
was purely practical, a necessity for war and
protection from assault. But when is a simple
necessity for function? like wearing armor in
battle, become an intentional revolutionary act
of identity? When did Joan's utility transform
into her ultimate defiant challenge to the established
male -dominated order? Think about how those
garments, far from hiding her, actually became
the signature of her unique and profound authority.
A truly enduring question for an absolutely singular
life. Thank you for joining us for this deep
dive into the history and legacy of Joan of Arc.
We'll catch you next time.