Short History Of... - Joan of Arc

Episode Date: September 17, 2023

Joan of Arc is a historical superstar, a peasant who rose above her rank and gender to help free France from foreign occupation. Claiming to be acting under the orders of saints and angels, she became a symbol of national freedom. But how did a near-illiterate teenage girl win the hearts and minds of soldiers and citizens alike? What was behind her angelic visions? And why was she abandoned to a brutal fate at the age of just nineteen? This is a Short History of Joan of Arc. Written by Jo Furniss. With thanks to Kathryn Harrison, author of Joan of Arc, A Life Transfigured.  For ad-free listening, exclusive content and early access to new episodes, join Noiser+. Now available for Apple and Android users. Click the Noiser+ banner on Apple or go to noiser.com/subscriptions to get started with a 7-day free trial. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

It is 1425, summertime in a northern French village called Domremy, a close-knit community of a few farms and a church. As it grows dark, people gather around a bonfire. Someone calls for a song, and a woman gets to her feet. Soon they are swaying under her spell. It's a ballad they know well, and her voice is as comforting as the fire. This is no fairy tale, but a prophecy. A story first told by the famous Merlin, the oracle of Arthurian legend. Long ago, he foresaw that the Kingdom of France would be lost, leaving its people in need of salvation. A ripple of recognition runs around the bonfire.

Life in Domremy is tough. After decades of English invasions and a civil war between the French sides too, their village is no longer a safe haven. The whole countryside is ravaged by occupiers and defenders alike. But the storyteller tries to lift their spirits. Merlin predicted that a woman from the forest, a maiden clad in armor, will come to save France. Suddenly the spell is broken. The bard is interrupted. Dogs bark, men shout. A church bell rings a frantic alarm. Eko shur, someone yells. It means marauders, raiders. Literally, flayers. Dirt is kicked about to extinguish the flames. Adults snatch up cudgels or children, and everyone flees. The people of Domremy are well drilled.

It is not the first time their village has been attacked. Now a girl called Jeanne runs with her family to the cover of the forest. Jeanne is only 13, but she's already seen her home looted, their precious cattle stolen. Anyone who resists the raiders is beaten or worse. Jeanne huddles with her sobbing siblings until the all-clear is given. It was a false alarm. But it's only a matter of time. Unless the prophet Merlin was right, and someone comes to save them, sooner or later the Equocheurs will strike again. To save them, sooner or later the écorcheurs will strike again. The next day Jeanne is working in the garden.

It is so peaceful she almost forgets the terror of the previous night. She kneels down to pick some petits pois. Church bells peal, calling people to prayers at noon. The sound envelops her. Jeanne looks up to the blue sky and blinks in the sunlight. Then she hears a voice, over her left shoulder, very close, whispering in her ear. The voice of a man. Be good, it says, and go often to church. The garden is flooded with brightness.

Jeanne looks around to see who's talking, but she's blinded by the light. Then it fades as suddenly as it appeared. Although she is afraid, she also feels terribly sad and alone now that the voice is gone. Jeanne gets up and brushes herself down. The bells are still ringing. She rips off her apron and runs to the church, but she tells no one what just happened, because she recognizes the voice that spoke to her. It was Saint Michael, the Archangel. And now she knows the identity of Merlin's savior, too. The girl who will lead France to victory against the English. It is herself, a maiden from the forest of Domremy.

Jeanne has been called, and she will follow. For six hundred years Joan of Arc has been revered as a heroine around the world. A peasant who rose above her rank and gender, she became a military commander and helped to free France from foreign occupation. She claimed to be acting under the orders of saints and angels, messengers from God who told her to fight the English and secure a French heir on the throne. In France, she is a symbol of national freedom. To Catholics, she's a saint who gave her life for her beliefs To feminists, Joan is a woman who commanded respect in a male-dominated world And to others, she's a rebel who dressed like a boy and had a disregard for authority figures

I'm John Hopkins. From Neuser, this is a short history of Joan of Arc. She may never have been called Joan of Arc, or even the more French, Jeanne d'Arc in her own lifetime. Her family name is uncertain, and the first occurrence on record of the name Joan of Arc is written 24 years after her death. There is no birth certificate either, but she is born around January 1412 in a small village 150 miles east of Paris. Katherine Harrison is the author of Joan of Arc, A Life Transfigured.

Joan is such a particular figure for many reasons, but in part because she was very familiar with the great story that everybody knew in the Middle Ages, and that was the story of Jesus. So a lot of her understanding of the shape of her life and the way she presented herself in her life had to do with aligning it with the story of Christ. There was no census and there was actually very little interest in a person's birth date. So that introduces a fair amount of narrative opportunity. And in fact, the historically accepted date is probably fabricated. It's the 6th of January. It's the date of Epiphany in the church calendar. And so we have Joan ecstatically received on this date that is already important in

the Christian calendar. Her father, Jacques, is a farmer and local official. The family of seven live in the only stone-built house in the village of Domremy. Joan's mother, Isabelle, is a devout Catholic. Her surname, Romée, is given as an honorary title to someone who has made the arduous pilgrimage to Rome. Once, Domremy lay amid a bucolic landscape

that had been planted with vineyards during the Roman occupation. The region of Lorraine is still famous today for its Beaujolais Nouveau wine. But by the time Joan is born, her homeland is a battleground. England and France have been at war over territory and succession since 1337. Almost 75 years later, the constant conflict continues as rival dynasties fight for the French throne. Like all of us, she's a creature of her time and France at this point had been subject to decades of siege warfare, you know, just roving bands of mercenaries just coming and setting fire to villages. And in terms of those that are enclosed in walls, just trapping them inside, starving them out. And rape and pillage is the norm.

She had her own town that she had to flee. And a lot of this is taking place at a really particular time in her life, when she's 10, 12. The conflict will soon become known as the Hundred Years' War. Most of the fighting takes place on French soil, with both English and French soldiers plundering the land to sustain themselves. With its farms and cattle but no fortified walls to protect it, Domremy is an attractive target. This is the violent backdrop to Joan's childhood. It is also a treacherous time for the country's rulers. It is also a treacherous time for the country's rulers. King Charles VI is on the French throne when Joan is born, but he suffers recurring bouts

of mental illness that cause coma or psychosis. On one occasion he attacks and kills four of his own guards. He often doesn't recognize his wife, Isabeau of Bavaria, and their son, also called Charles. During another episode, the king becomes convinced he is made of glass. The younger Charles assumes the title of Dauphin, meaning heir to his father's crown. But he is regarded as weak and indecisive. The king's cousin, the Duke of Burgundy, mounts a challenge for the throne. Over in England, King Henry V takes advantage of the instability. He invades in 1415, three years after Joan's birth, hoping to take the French throne for himself.

The duke and his supporters, the Burgundians, side with the English, united in mutual opposition to the unstable king and the Dauphin. Even the French king's wife turns against him. In 1420, Isabeau signs the Treaty of Troyes, which recognizes Henry of England as heir to the French throne, thereby disinheriting her own son. There are many rumors about Isabaut's conduct, claimed that she is highly promiscuous, even incestuous, and that the Dauphin is illegitimate. The allegations link Isabaut to a popular prophecy, a fable that says France will be lost by a woman but saved by a virgin.

by a woman, but saved by a virgin. Though the ancient prophecy is attributed to the wizard Merlin, it overlaps with myths from other eminent sources, like the Venerable Bede or Euglid of Hungary. And so, during this tempestuous time, it is believed that Isabeau is the fabled woman who loses France. By disinheriting her son, the Dauphin, she has threatened the line of succession and France's claim to its own throne. Who, then, is the prophesied virgin from the marshes of Lorraine who will save her people? Make what you will of a prophecy. It expresses the wish or the prayer of a people about salvation.

And of course, this is an age of extreme misogyny. And the only person who can save them is a virgin, somebody who is untouched and pure. And that also becomes central to Joan's story. Like Jesus, a sacrifice, a perfect sacrifice, untouched by lust and sort of human passion. I actually don't think that Joan could have been the sort of figure of power and fascination that she was if she didn't really believe it herself. Now, I don't think it was Machiavellian. I think that of all the people in Lorraine at that moment in history,

all of the people familiar with the old story from the Marshes of Lorraine, a virgin will arise and save her people. I don't think most people heard it and thought, it's me. But one person did and thought, I am that virgin. I will save my people. In 1422, the English King Henry and French King Charles die, coincidentally, within weeks of each other of unspecified illnesses. A nine-month-old Henry VI ascends the English throne, while the disputed Dauphin claims the French crown, though there is no

coronation just yet. Joan starts receiving her visions around 1425. The first comes when she is at home, in the garden. As the bells ring out to call the villagers to worship, a voice over her shoulder tells her to go to church. She identifies this speaker, who is accompanied by a bright light, as Saint Michael the Archangel. Later she hears female voices and recognizes these as Saints Catherine and Margaret. She sees their faces and clasps their hands and even notes how wonderful they smell. She says not only does she hear them, but she could embrace them and feel them. We understand that she's on her knees and she's putting her arms around their legs, but she talks about them as embodied.

Hearing voices isn't actually clinically that unusual. Lots of people hear voices under various circumstances. I do feel like it's a whole other level if you feel that you can touch them and another sensory apparatus is involved. It's abnormal, and we tend to pathologize things that don't happen normally. and we tend to pathologize things that don't happen normally. In recent times, historians, medics, and psychiatrists have tried to explain Joan's revelations using modern science. There are many illnesses that cause visual symptoms or even hallucinations,

including migraines, brain tumors, or tuberculosis, which was common at the time. Another suggestion is schizophrenia, which can be characterized by hearing voices. The fact that Joan hears bells could suggest epilepsy because seizures can cause auditory disturbances. The episodic nature of the incidents and the fact that she is fully conscious and lucid the rest of the time also could fit a diagnosis of epilepsy. But there is plenty of historical evidence to suggest that Joan is physically and mentally healthy. In her own time, it is not the existence of revelations that is unusual, but rather Joan's absolute determination to act on them.

The voices tell Joan that she is the savior from the well-known prophecy. She starts calling herself Jeanne la Pucelle, or Joan the Maiden, to emphasize the virginal status that is central to the legend. The voices say her mission is to make the English leave French soil and ensure the Dauphin is crowned. The saints stay with Joan for the rest of her life. In 1428, now aged 16, Joan sneaks away from home by telling her parents that she is going to help a woman give birth in another village. Instead, she travels to a fort in the town of Vaucouleurs, where she

demands an audience with the Dauphin. She says she has been sent to help him beat the English and finally be crowned. The commander laughs and sends her home, but she is persistent. The following year, she returns and somehow convinces him. and somehow convinces him. They travel to the Dauphin stronghold in Sinon. Joan dons a boy's outfit, probably as disguise, but also to see off any unwanted attention from her entirely male military escort. It is March 1429, a dark and chilly night.

Joan enters the castle at Chinon, accompanied by six soldiers. It is a magnificent chateau of pale stone, set high above the river Vienne. The royal fortress is home to Charles VII, the Dauphin. They dismount, and Joan leaves the way over the stone courtyard of the castle on foot. Her entourage makes its way past the guards and into the lavish palace. People stop and stare at the young woman. Her black hair is cut short like a common soldier and her tall frame is clad in the unassuming outfit of a page boy. But Joan does not break stride, and soon she enters the Grand Hall. Some 300 knights, resplendent in armor, surround her.

The hall blazes with 50 flambeaux, wooden torches made of burning rags. Joan shoulders her way through the crowd to the great fireplace, where she knows the most important people will have the best seats in the house. She finds a number of men in luxurious robes. Their red gowns and shimmering cloaks of golden thread glow in the firelight. One man, the tallest and most imposing, raises himself to his full height and looks down at her.

She studies him from his jeweled hat to his silk shoes. He is not the man she is looking for. Dismissing him, she pushes right past and kneels before another man. He is modestly dressed in a simple black cloak. At the sight of this kneeling visitor, he protests that he is not the Dauphin. Joan remains on bended knee, waiting.

These men are having fun at her expense, testing her. But even though she has never set eyes on the Dauphin before, she knows him at once. Her voices show her the way. Joan points her finger at the man in the black cloak and identifies him in a loud, clear voice. My noble Dauphin. The crowd gasps. Joan explains that she has come from God to help the king and his realm. Joan explains that she has come from God to help the king and his realm. The Dauphin abandons his parlor trick and leads Joan away for a private audience.

Now she has the ear of the king. There are differing historical accounts of the first meeting between Joan and the Dauphin, but the mistaken identity story captures the essence of her legend. It shows Joan being underestimated, scorned, dismissed, but ultimately rising above powerful men with logic, self-belief, and persistence. In this moment, as throughout her short life, Joan represents every disenfranchised man or woman. The Dauphin is won over by Joan's divine visions and her connection to the prophecy that France will be saved by a maiden from the marshes of Lorraine. This is an era in which revelation is prized. The question wasn't ever, is Joan sane or insane? It is is what is the source of these voices?

Is it God or the devil? So that's a very different conversation than the one we would have. But the Dauphin is a fearful man, cautious about accusations of witchcraft. He sends Joan to meet theologians at Poitiers to ensure she isn't enthralled to the devil. The holy men believe her, but she is then passed to his mother-in-law, who brutally examines whether she is a virgin. Again, Joan passes the test. With his claim to the throne in dispute, Charles decides he can make use of this charismatic girl, whose audacity and devotion have wooed his toughest men.

He gives her armor, horses, and an army of up to five thousand men. Then he sends her into battle. Around one hundred miles northeast of the Dauphin's Chateau at Chinon stands the town of Orléans. It is the northernmost city that remains loyal to the French crown. For half a year, an Englishman named John of Lancaster has held it under siege, trapping its population inside the city walls in the hope of starving them out. It is widely believed that should he take Orléans in the name of his nephew, the King of England, then the rest of

France would fall under their rule. The stakes are high for the people of Orléans. Under the terms of chivalry, a city that surrenders must be treated leniently by the invading army. But a city that resists, as Orléans has done for many months, can expect to be ravaged. Mass execution is the common outcome of a siege. It is April 1429. An army is amassed on the banks of the River Loire. There are some 200 soldiers with horses and wagons bringing much needed supplies for their besieged countrymen at Orléans. As night falls, a fleet of ships approaches through the gloom. The first to board is a young woman wearing armor and carrying a

banner that whips in the wind. Joan marches forward to the prow of the ship, where she grips the wooden rail and stares upriver. After so many trials and diversions, she has reached the place where she can fulfill her destiny. She is oblivious to the activity behind her, of the soldiers boarding and the weapons, She is oblivious to the activity behind her, of the soldiers boarding, and the weapons, crates and barrels being loaded. Eventually the company settles. Joan turns to see the worried faces of her battalion. They know the journey from here is far from straightforward. They could be attacked at any moment, and the town is some two miles upstream. Without a favourable wind, their mission could end in

disaster. But then, one of the soldiers points to the flag that Joan holds aloft. The linen, as finely woven as silk, turns in the breeze before suddenly snapping to attention. Pulled taut against the darkening sky, the white fabric shines like moonlight. It shows a figure of Christ holding the world in his hands, flanked by angels. There are gasps that turn to cheers. The banner shows that the wind has changed direction. Now it will carry them swiftly and silently to Orléans. The captain gives the signal, and the fleet pushes off from the riverbank. No time to waste.

It is nothing less than a miracle. At eight o'clock that evening, Joan enters the walled city of Orléans to a rapturous welcome. She rides a white charger, holding aloft her miraculous banner. Within days, the reinvigorated French win a skirmish against the English. They seize control of a fort outside the city walls at a site called Saint-Loup. Inspired by this rare victory, the people of Orléans form urban militias. Joan persuades the professional soldiers to accept help from the locals. They cross the river on a hastily erected pontoon bridge to attack another English base, the Saint-Jean-le-Blanc. According to legend, that operation almost comes to a tragic end.

The French are outnumbered and sent into retreat, but Joan stands her ground. She turns her horse to face the approaching English, holds her banner aloft, and shouts her war cry of, Au nom de Dieu, in the name of God. Her defiance makes the advancing english falter and the retreating french army turns and rallies to her side the tide of battle rapidly changes now when they resume the fight despite being outnumbered the french sees the fortified monastery that was their target the French seized the fortified monastery that was their target. It is another famous victory for Joan, whose reputation is growing. She's this insane figure who's marched in from the hinterlands,

you know, shrouded in this prophecy and fulfillment. And she's made it improbably to the court, seemingly without any sense of being starstruck or anything. Somebody who's just sort of able to cut a swath through, sort of like, you know, I'm on a mission. Get out of my way, you bishop, you whatever. And I think that alone was probably astonishing and went a long way to convincing people that she was the thing that she said she was, this Christ-like figure of salvation. But then Joan is injured by stepping onto a metal spike. Though she has to be carried back to Orléans to recover,

just two days later she joins an assault at Les Tourelles. But again she is hurt, struck on the top of the shoulder by an arrow that pierces so deep it comes out of her back. Rumors of her death cause French morale to falter, but her commanders have her patched up. The wound is stuffed with olive oil and bacon fat, and she's back in the field before the end of the day. Encouraged, the French scale the walls of the fort on ladders. By nightfall, Le Tourelle is conquered. Fierce fighting takes the lives of a thousand English soldiers. The losses are so great,

it forces them to abandon the siege of Orléans. The city has been held to ransom for seven long months, but on the 8th of May, 1429, only nine days after Joan's miraculous arrival, Orléans is freed. Her sway over an army, her ability to influence the outcomes of battles was almost entirely psychic. That there was some holy grail aspect of her herself, that when the army was in her hands, they felt this sense of going with God. Today, Orléans still celebrates its liberation with an annual festival held on the 8th of May. But it is a joint commemoration, annual festival held on the 8th of May. But it is a joint commemoration, marking two seismic moments that by strange coincidence occurred on the same day, 500 years apart. It's also the date that Nazi Germany surrenders in 1945, VE, or Victory in Europe Day, when France

is liberated once again. Back on the 8th of May, 1429, Orléans is free and Joan's reputation is sealed. But victory on the battlefield isn't enough. Joan's voices give clear instructions. The next stage in the mission is to secure the French king on the throne with a coronation. Where do you stop being God's anointed? When do you say, oh, I've done it. Okay. I'm retiring now. Joan's not meant for the convent.

This is not somebody who decided war was terrible and she didn't want to do it anymore. She wanted to remain in that amazing, glorious, probably highly addictive position of being in charge of guards of armies. So what else can you say other than more until this is done? Supporters of the French king, Charles VII, may call him king, but he has never had a coronation. Traditionally, the ceremony is held in the cathedral at Reims, but that city remains under opposition Burgundian control. Joan only ever calls Charles Dauphin, or heir,

perhaps to make the point that he needs her help to get officially crowned. After the success at Orléans, Joan persuades him to travel to Reims for a coronation ceremony. It's a symbolic act, but important in this time of instability. However, a large battalion of English soldiers stands in their way. On June 18, 1429, Joan leads her troops to face them in the town of Patay. The French attack the formidable English longbow archers as they scramble into position. Then they cut a swathe through the English foot soldiers who are exposed and unprotected. Around two thousand English are killed, and Joan and the Dauphin march triumphantly on

to Reims. At the coronation on July 17, Joan stands on the dais next to the king's throne, holding her banner aloft. He is anointed with holy oil beside this miraculous girl, whose rise from peasant to pride of place has taken only a year. Her sense of destiny and her place in this whole pageant and once claiming the crown and then sort of pushing saying, you know, we need to go further. I want this to be definitive. She does this incredibly important symbolic thing. The king is crowned. And I think that it would be nice if Joan sort of retired from the battlefield.

But Joan at this point, you know know she's somebody who's got a fair amount of hubris the story gets muddied a little confused maybe even for joan herself and perhaps she doubles down out of uncertainty and there's pride too but pride comes before a fall whenever joan appears with the king, the public is more interested in the charismatic maid of Orléans and their monarch. Charles doesn't like being a sidekick. Then, in a battle in a town called Saint-Lys, Joan's army fails to beat the English. She starts to lose support at court, but now her voices tell her to attack Paris, which is held by the English. And though she forges ahead during this assault,

she is shot in the thigh by a crossbow. The offensive stalls, and Charles retreats. The fact is, his treasury is running out of money and war is expensive. In May 1430, during another battle in Compiègne, Joan rides onto the field on a warhorse. Her cloak flies as she gallops towards the skirmish, catching the eye of a Burgundian archer. Seeing his chance for glory, he lunges forward and grasps the cape, dragging Joan backwards off her charger. She slams into the hard ground, stunned by her unexpected fall. Joan is taken prisoner. A valuable hostage, she is sold for 10,000 francs to her greatest enemy, the English. English propaganda about Joan focuses on accusations of witchcraft,

her visions, the prophecies, her direct line to God, her heretical preference for men's clothing. Her behavior, appearance, and influence dangerously overstep the boundaries assigned to her gender. It is a term of the moment triggering issue of how she presented herself, not just in men's clothing, but in courtier's clothing. I mean, there's sumptuary laws at the time. She's a peasant. She's supposed to be running around in muslin or whatever. She's not supposed to be wearing any of the things that she's wearing. So she has this sort of

self-anointed quality, like some sort of magic fairy tale of just creating this truly troubling person who is not female exactly, because how can she be? She's wearing pants and she's riding a horse and she's leading an army. Hundreds of years later, we are still just in a twist over gender and what we can do and what we can't do. And she was an extremely troubling figure and powerful by having seized it herself in this way that was just shocking. way that was just shocking in a sham trial that begins in raw in january 1431 joan is accused of heresy and blasphemy it's conducted by bishop pierre cochon and the grand inquisitor of france but for the english it has an even more important political purpose they need to discredit joan us. They need to discredit Joan. Her visions suggest that God wants a French king to rule France. But the English claim the same divine destiny, saying it is God's will for them to rule both countries. By proving that Joan is a false prophet, the English can claim that Charles

was put on the throne by a heretic, a witch in boys' clothing. If they lose the trial, though, if Joan's visions are ruled to be legitimate, it would invalidate the English claim to rule France. The trial is so important that detailed minutes are taken by a notary. Guillaume Monchon records every twist and turn of what quickly turns into a legal thriller. Most of what we know about Joan's life, visions, and personality come from Monchon's account of her evidence. Recording her in her own words, he witnesses Joan's belief in her visions and her intelligence.

Seemingly unafraid, she skillfully avoids verbal traps laid by her interrogators. She frustrates them, embarrasses them, jokes with them, and in some cases impresses them. One cleric quits when he witnesses her being coerced. Another judge complains when Joan is threatened with instruments of torture, worst. Another judge complains when Joan is threatened with instruments of torture, only to be thrown into jail himself. In one exchange, a judge asks Joan if she is held in God's grace. It's a trick question. If Joan answers yes, it is heresy. She is presuming to know the mind of God. If she answers no, it is a confession of her own unworthiness. Instead, she says that if God holds her in his grace, then she hopes she can remain there.

It's both a clever and modest answer, and Monchon notes that it stuns the interrogators. While Joan is winning a battle for hearts and minds, she risks losing the war. Her intelligence and charisma only make her more dangerous to the Church and the English. At the time of the trial, five copies are made of Monchon's account. Three exist today, held in Paris, including one that is thought to have been intended for the King of England. There's something about this document

that just really preserves this incredible voice from hundreds of years ago of just somebody who's really just clear and it's the David and Goliath times 10 story where you've got this seemingly illiterate,

uneducated, unsophisticated girl from the country, and they can't dismantle her. The fact that that document exists is one of the reasons that we find her so fascinating, because she is just such an improbable creature. She has that sort of wonderful quality of the child in the emperor's new clothes. One of those figures of youth and innocence who points to corruption. Her voice is so memorable and theirs, despite all their erudition and training and legalistic, just falls away into nothing. Despite Joan's evasions, she is finally presented with 12 articles of accusation.

They mainly involve heresy, speaking directly to saints and angels, failing to accept the authority of the church. There is also the blasphemy of dressing in men's clothing and the disobedience of leaving her father's house without permission. And there is a charge of witchcraft related to her prophecies. On May 24, 1431, after a four-month trial,

Joan is taken to a scaffold in a churchyard in Rouen. She is told that unless she recants her visions and agrees to wear women's clothing, she will be hanged. She agrees by signing an oath known as an adjuration and is thrown in prison. It seems her life is saved, but when her trial judge visits her cell a few days later, she is back in a man's outfit. She remained pretty consistent on the issue of her clothing. She was a woman among men. She could not be wearing a skirt. By the time she was in jail, she was wearing male leggings, leather that she could really lace together and stop somebody from

raping her. And raping her was a goal because as soon as she was penetrated, she was no longer somebody they needed to listen to. She was no longer pure. She was no longer in touch with God. She belonged to the devil. So what it began as, her declaring power and agency and distinction perhaps from gender completely turned into something else, I think, once she was in prison, and that was an attempt to keep herself safe. Once again she insists that Saints Catherine and Margaret have instructed her to reject the church's ruling and wear men's clothing. She had already told the trial that English captors molested her when she wore skirts. Nevertheless, her outfit is taken as a sign of a return to heresy. The judges hand Joan

to secular officials for execution. She is just 19 years old. It is the 30th of May 1431. The old marketplace in Rouen is always busy on Mondays, but today is especially frenetic. People hurry past stalls and sellers with little interest in buying. A cluster of tents has appeared in the square. Tem, temporary canopies that cover a seating area for dignitaries. The milling crowd is a cross-section of Rouen society. Nobles in fine robes, knights in armor, guards with intimidating halberd swords, peasants in sackcloth. The galleries face a platform built atop pillars of stone.

On the platform is the boucher, a sturdy wooden stake. The post is surrounded by a pyre. And this, the locals have heard, is where the maid of Orléans, Jeanne Lapoussel, will today face her final battle. will today face her final battle. There is the sound of a commotion. A procession of soldiers is now pushing roughly through the throng. Following at a more stately pace are Dominican friars dressed in pure white robes.

The crowd fall into a respectful silence. Walking between them is a young woman in a linen slip, holding a simple cross made of two sticks to her chest. She is manhandled up a ladder onto the platform. Now her back is pressed to the stake and her body lashed to the post. A few cries come from the crowd. One shouts, witch. Another replies, shame. Joan looks up,

inspired by the few cries of support. She calls out. The crowd hushes, keen to hear her. She calls for a cross. A Dominican friar comes forward, red in the face and shrugging off the hands of fellow churchmen who try to hold him back. He raises a large cross over his head so that Joan may look at it in her final moments. She nods her thanks and calls for him to chant, to give his blessings loud enough to be heard over the noise of what she knows will soon follow. Taking pity on the young woman, the friar speaks in a loud, clear voice. A torch is brought and touched to the pyre at Joan's feet, and as it bursts into flame, she stares intently at the cross, hearing only his words.

Joan dies of smoke inhalation. Her remains are taken down from the boucher, but the English Cardinal of Winchester intervenes and orders her body to be burnt again. convenes and orders her body to be burnt again. It is said that her organs survive this immolation, so she is cremated a third time. According to some, the remains are dumped in the River Seine. Others claim that ashes found in the attic of an apothecary in 1897 belong to Joan. These have been displayed in a museum in Chinon ever since. At her trial, Joan said that Saints Catherine and Margaret once consoled her about her inevitable demise. Suffer it willingly, they told her.

Do not be disturbed about your martyrdom. You will come to the kingdom of Paradise. Entering, becoming one with the most important story of all, the birth of God. And her end is that end of the sacrificial lamb. That's the problem with somebody like Joan. How does Joan retire? What's Joan's second act? There's some terrible logic of her story that drives her to the stake because what can this life do other than sort of burn up out

of its own insane incandescence? Despite discrediting and killing Joan, nothing much changes for the English. Twenty-two years later, in 1453, the French beat the occupiers in a decisive victory that sees them lose their French territories except Calais. Joan remains a problem for King Charles, who was crowned as a result of her heretical actions. He orders an inquest which paves the way for a retrial in 1455 at Notre Dame Cathedral. Joan's mother personally requests her daughter's rehabilitation. The court hears 115 witnesses and finds the original trial unjust. Bishop Pierre Cochon is posthumously found guilty of malice and heresy.

The court orders a cross to be erected on the site of Joan's execution. The city of Orléans stays loyal to Joan, commemorating her death every year. The event grows into a festival as Joan becomes revered as a folk saint. Her cult grows so powerful that leaders of the 18th century French Revolution ban the event due to Joan's monarchist beliefs. But in the early 19th century, Napoleon Bonaparte restores the memorial, citing Joan as an example of French genius. She features in plays by William Shakespeare, Bertolt Brecht, and George Bernard Shaw, and operas by Verdi and Tchaikovsky.

In the early 20th century, her boy's haircut inspires the bobbed style worn by the flappers as a symbol of their independence from the patriarchy. Finally, in 1920, a rehabilitation is complete. The Roman Catholic Pope Benedict XV canonizes St. Joan at St. Paul's Basilica in Rome, in front of 60,000 worshippers. And in France, to this day, the second Sunday in May is a national holiday to celebrate Joan, the patron saint of the nation and soldiers. Somehow this creature came into the world

and seemed not for one moment to abide by any of the received information about what it was to be a woman and what she could do and what she couldn't do. I mean, there was somebody who just said, yes, I can do that. Given the narrow path set before a woman, it's just astonishing. Now, today, in terms of the whole idea of gender being a construct of what it means to be a woman, what it means to be human, what it means that she's, again, newly fascinating, somebody who apparently never thought for a minute, I can't do this because I'm a girl. Next time on Short History Of, we'll bring you a short history of the Fukushima nuclear disaster.

Nuclear reactor siting is generally based on the principle of assessing external hazards that could occur at the site and looking really at the historical basis. the site and looking really at the historical basis. So essentially they looked at the most severe earthquakes that they could expect would happen at the site and the most severe flooding and they designed it accordingly. And so at the time they did not believe that it would experience potentially an earthquake or a tsunami anywhere near what actually occurred on March 11th, 2011. That's next time.