By Ginger Myrick
In my previous post on Women in Warfare: Joan of Arc, I gave a cursory account of Joan’s capture on the field at Compiègne during which she impressed even a Burgundian historian with her courage: "She remained in the rear of her men as their captain, and the bravest of all ..." Her troops retreated from the battle to safety, and Joan rode behind them to ensure it. As the bulk of the force crossed into the fortification, the bridge was drawn up and the portcullis dropped, knowing that the Maid was on the wrong side.
It may seem shocking to some that Joan’s own countrymen—especially inhabitants of the very town she had come to liberate—would leave her outside the gates when she was certain to be captured by the enemy. But by this time her standing had been much diminished by her military failures. If she were truly from God, would He have allowed her to fail? By her own admission ‘her voices’ had deserted her. The last time Stes. Catherine and Margaret had spoken, they had told her she would be taken before Midsummer, "and thus it needs must be."
Joan found herself in the custody of a vassal of the Duke of Burgundy. Because of the longstanding bloodfeud raging between the ruling house and this particular duke of France—it was said that the Dauphin had entrapped the Duke’s father, John the Fearless, and had him killed if not perpetrated the crime himself—Philip had sided with England many years before. Being in the custody of a Burgundian was nearly as bad as being in the hands of the English themselves, but there was still a chance that a compassionate soul would intervene and pay the ransom.
Many French eyes looked to their newly anointed king, as Joan had been the one responsible for setting the crown upon his head, but by all accounts Charles was not a man who was quick to action nor was he possessed of the funds. Of course he was the king and could have found a way to release her by royal decree, but he left her to her fate. When Charles refused to pay the ransom, Joan was offered to the English who jumped at the chance. Now what would they do with her?
They would have liked to have her declared a witch, burned, and be done with the matter, but that was not so easy. She had always maintained that her mission was from God and that the voices she heard were those of saints. She had already passed a moral inquiry and been declared a good and virtuous Christian. Her prosecutors tried to trap her into talking about ‘her voices’—in an attempt to call them demons then say she was possessed—but she simply refused, saying that the voices would not allow her.
The only means left to accomplish their end was to convict her of heresy. She had already passed the test for witchcraft, so how could they accuse her of heresy? Pierre Cauchon, the Bishop of Beauvais, another Burgundian and English partisan, cunningly pointed out a Biblical law, Deuteronomy 22:5, which states that a woman shall not wear the clothing of a man, and Joan had certainly done that. But heresy only carried a death sentence for a repeat offense. How would they get her to betray herself?
After a period of fasting or prolonged fever (I have read differing accounts, but one thing on which they concur is that she was not in a lucid state of mind.) Joan was taken out to the execution platform and shown the fate her accusers had in mind for her. They prepared two documents for her consideration. One was an abjuration stating that Joan acknowledged her error and vowed to cease dressing as a man. The other was a confession saying that ‘her voices’ were evil and that she had committed all manner of sin, making the first option seem far less offensive by comparison. In addition, her prosecutors said that if she signed the first and donned woman's clothing, she would be housed in gentle prison with nuns for guards instead of rough English soldiers. She was illiterate and could only trust in their honor. Confronted with the horrifying vehicle of her undoing, she made her mark.
After signing the document, Joan repented of her sin and complied with the conditions, but a few days later, they found her in her cell garbed in her old clothing. How it occurred seemed a mystery, but afterward she told a member of her tribunal that "a great English lord had entered her prison and tried to take her by force." She had resumed male attire either to defend herself against sexual assault or because her dress had been ruined or stolen and she was left no other recourse. Regardless of how it happened, her relapse was the evidence needed for her conviction, and she was immediately sentenced to burn.
On the day of her martyrdom, Joan was so valiant in her conduct that she even won admiration from English soldiers who were present in force to witness the execution and ensure that no rescue attempts would succeed. One of the Englishmen fashioned a small cross that she placed in the front of her dress, and when the deed had been done, a secretary of Henry VI of England said, "We are all lost. We have burned a Saint!"
Twenty-five years later, a nullification trial found that Joan’s case had been criminally mismanaged. Several witnesses testified that the transcript had been doctored, and many of the church officials had been compelled to serve against their will, some even threatened by the English. Bishop Cauchon had illegally detained Joan in a secular prison and denied her appeals to a higher church office, which should have ended proceedings on that level. And in the Church’s eyes, the technical reason for her conviction—dressing like a man—was justifiable if done to preserve chastity. The investigation posthumously declared Joan innocent and convicted Cauchon of heresy.
Ginger Myrick was born and raised in Southern California. She is a self-described wife, mother, animal lover, and avid reader and knitter. Along with the promotion for THE WELSH HEALER, and EL REY, she is currently crafting her third novel, which takes place during the U.S. Civil War. She is a Christian who writes meticulously researched historical fiction with a ‘clean’ love story at the core. She hopes to persevere with her newfound talent and show the reading community that a romance need not include graphic details to convey deep love and passion.
By Ginger Myrick
In her lifetime Joan of Arc symbolized many things to many people. Some called her prophet or heroine. Others believed her a madwoman, witch, or heretic. To the English she represented a threat to their conquest of France. To the French she was most popularly known as La Pucelle d'Orléans, The Virgin of Orléans, a common farm girl who carried out the Will of God, turning the tide of war and winning her country’s freedom back from the English.
By 1424 the English had occupied France for nine years. The French were divided among themselves due to a longstanding blood feud, and the Dauphin Charles had been in hiding for the duration. That year, at twelve years of age, Joan had her first vision. The Saints Michael, Catherine, and Margaret appeared to her in a field and charged Joan to drive out the invaders and bring the Dauphin to be crowned at Rheims—the traditional coronation site of French Kings and a territory controlled by hostiles. Easier said than done, but these were saints and hers was a holy mission.
A few years later with the help of a kinsman, the simple country girl from Domrémy made her way to a French garrison where she petitioned for an audience with the Dauphin. She was denied, but her fearless performance gained support from Bertrand de Poulegny and Jean de Metz, two men of reliable reputation. They championed her on her second visit during which she divulged her holy mission to see Charles crowned at Rheims and oust the English from French soil. She was so convincing that she began to be regarded by many as a messenger of God and was given escort to court.
It was during this journey that she began dressing as a male. Her believers persuaded her that she would be safer if she cut her hair and wore a man’s clothing. This she did and made the trip safely. At court she was granted private audience with the Dauphin and so moved him that he agreed to her requests pending a moral inquiry, which she passed and was declared a good and virtuous Christian. She was provided with the typical equipment of a knight—armor, horse, sword, banner—and arrived at Orléans on April 29, 1429.
The city had been besieged for five months before her coming. The single attempt at launching an offensive had ended in disaster. Tired of delay, Joan demanded a new strategy of attack and on May 4 took Saint Loup, the next day marching on to a second fortress, which was found unoccupied. Her crowning achievement at Orléans was her capture of the English stronghold at Les Tourelles on May 7. This victory was especially compelling, because early in the battle she was wounded in the neck by an arrow yet came back to lead the decisive assault. Surely this was proof of divine favor.
From this point on she was taken more seriously, and her crowd of supporters grew with each triumph. There ensued further incidents that could be attributed to God’s aegis. In one battle she was knocked from a scaling ladder by a cannonball with no further injury. In another she continued to command troops after sustaining a wound from a crossbow. Soon enemy-held towns surrendered without conflict, and on July 16, 1429, Joan arrived with her army in Rheims. Charles VII was crowned the next morning. Afterward she returned to the field having many more successes … and failures … but none of them as stunning at those she had achieved before the coronation.
Eventually she was captured in a skirmish at Compiègne. She ordered a retreat and remained on the field after seeing everyone else safely away. She found herself in the custody of the Duke of Burgundy who ransomed her to the English when King Charles declined to intervene. It is speculated that after his accession to the throne, in his eyes her holy mission had been accomplished and her usefulness outlived. Joan was put to trial and condemned of heresy, ironically for wearing men’s clothing, which had been her method of ensuring her purity in the eyes of God. She was burned at the stake on May 30, 1431, one of her last requests that a crucifix be held before her as her spirit ascended to heaven. Even the executioner admitted that he, “… greatly feared to be damned …” for his participation. She was approximately nineteen years old.
King Charles VII, emboldened and rallied by the death of this symbol of hope, eventually took charge of his armies and sent the English back to their own concerns, realizing the second part of Joan’s vision. Twenty-five years after her execution, Pope Callixtus III authorized a posthumous “nullification trial” to determine if Joan’s proceedings had complied with canon law. A panel examined testimony from 115 separate sources and rendered their final judgement describing Joan as a martyr and charging the deceased church official, Pierre Cauchon, of heresy for condemning her in the name of the Church for a secular dispute. On July 7, 1456, Joan was declared innocent, and on May 16, 1920, nearly five centuries after her death, she was canonized by the Roman Catholic Church as Saint Joan of Arc.
Ginger Myrick was born and raised in Southern California. She is a self-described wife, mother, animal lover, and avid reader and knitter. Along with the promotion for THE WELSH HEALER, and EL REY, she is currently crafting her third novel, which takes place during the U.S. Civil War. She is a Christian who writes meticulously researched historical fiction with a ‘clean’ love story at the core. She hopes to persevere with her newfound talent and show the reading community that a romance need not include graphic details to convey deep love and passion.
