She’s one of history’s youngest warriors. At an age when most of us were still stressing
over what to wear to school, Joan of Arc was leading thousands of French troops into battle
against the English. Supposedly inspired by divine visions of Catholicism’s
greatest saints, Joan first took up her sword at 16, was leading armies by 17, and was burned
at the stake before she was 20. In her short life, she managed to change the
course of the Hundred Years’ War, ending English domination of France. Not bad for an illiterate girl from the sticks. But while most of us know the name Joan of
Arc and know her tragic end, how much do we know about her life? Join us today as we take a look at the simple
peasant girl who changed European history, before dying alone and disgraced, convinced
she was a failure. A Lowly Birth
We don’t know today the exact date of Joan’s birth. All we know is that it was sometime in 1412,
to a farming family of some means. “Some means” is relative here. Joan’s village of Domrémy in northeastern
France was shockingly poor. Still, her father Jean had managed to scrape
together 50 acres of farmland, and the family lived in the biggest house in town. For young Joan, life in Domrémy meant a life
of sewing and taking care of animals. As a girl in Medieval Europe no-one ever taught
her to read or write or do other manly things. They did teach her to pray, though. Joan’s mother, Isabelle Romée, was a devout
Catholic. How devout? Well, there’s evidence Isabelle may have
made a pilgrimage to Rome earlier in life, a crazy feat for a woman living at a time
when traveling three villages over meant a day’s riding and the knowledge you might
be killed by bandits. But Isabelle lived at a time when public devotion
afforded women a level of respect not found elsewhere. Early 15th Century France was filled with
female visionaries who it was taken as fact could communicate with God. While Isabelle herself never claimed to be
a mystic, she likely told young Joan all about these women. Still, Joan’s early life was relatively
uneventful. She became a master seamstress, worked on
her dad’s farm, made a handful of friends. Had she be born at a different time, it’s
doubtful we’d be talking about her now. Heck, it’s doubtful those in Domrémy would
remember her. But Joan wasn’t born at any time. She was born in 1412, in northern France. And northern France in 1412 was a place in
the grip of a destructive conflict. Joan of Arc had just been born slap bang into
the middle of the Hundred Years’ War. One Hundred Years of War
The Hundred Years’ War could win awards for “least-accurately named historical event”. In fact, it was a series of wars between England
and France, and it lasted 116 years, not 100. Normally we’d just mention it and move on. But Joan of Arc’s life was so short and
so tied up in the Hundred Years’ War that we’d have to keep halting the narrative
every two seconds just to stop you from going “WHAAAA-?” So, like a fun Pixar short, here is our quick
biography of The 116 Years’ Not-Really-a-War. In 1066, Norman king William the Conqueror
earned his nickname by conquering England. Crucially, he retained his claim on the French
throne, as did his descendants. Nearly 300 years later, in 1328, king Charles
IV of France died. This was super good news for William’s descendant,
Edward III, who was next in line for the throne. So, hooray, Edward gets two countries, right? Nope! Instead the French crowned local noble Philip
VI, all while blowing raspberries across the Channel at the English. Fed up with all these Frenchies taunting in
his general direction, Edward went to war with France in 1337. By 1360 everyone was tired of warring, and
Edward accepted a chunk of northern France in return for abandoning his claims to the
throne. So the warring stopped, until 1380 rolled
around and the French crowned crazy Charles VI, a guy who genuinely believed he was made
of glass. Charles VI was so incapable of ruling that
he created a power vacuum. In 1407, the noble French Houses of Orleans
and Burgundy actually went to war to fill it. The House of Burgundy, by the way? One you’re gonna want to remember. A year after Joan was born, in 1413, Henry
V was crowned king of England. Desperate to revive his claim to the French
throne, Henry demanded to marry one of Charles VI’s daughters. The French were all like “err, no” and
England and France went to war again. But this time, the House of Burgundy allied
with the English. This led to the Treaty of Troyes in 1420,
when the English and Burgundians not only booted the French up their backsides, but
made off with their pantaloons too. The Treaty was humiliating for France. Alongside other stuff, it set things up so
Henry would inherit the French throne when Charles died. But then Henry made the mistake of dying just
before Charles also died, technically making Henry’s ten month old son Henry VI king
of both nations. The French decided being ruled by a baby was
ridiculous, so they made Charles of Valois king instead. Yep, it’s that old classic French play of
“screw the treaty and blow raspberries across the Channel”! Only the English were no longer across the
Channel, but occupying the north of France. That included not only Paris but also Reims,
a city where Charles of Valois had to be crowned to be recognized as king. So that’s where things were by 1425. The English and the Burgundians had everything
above the Loire River, while Charles of Valois stewed to the south, unable to become king
until he made it to Reims. It would take a miracle to break this deadlock
and end this near century of conflict. Luckily, miracles were what Joan of Arc was
all about. The Girl Who Talked With Saints
Just as Charles of Valois was sulking around, wishing he could be king, young Joan of Arc
was having an extremely spooky experience. Now aged 13, Joan’s life in Domrémy was
much the same as it was when we last left her, with one major difference. As she reached puberty, Joan suddenly started
having visions of St. Catherine, St. Margaret of Antioch, and St. Michael. At first, these visions simply told her to
live a pious life and remain a virgin. But, as time passed, they started telling
her “actually, you know what? Maybe you should also become a warrior and
put Charles of Valois on the throne.” We mentioned earlier that female visionaries
weren’t uncommon in France. That doesn’t mean people always took them
seriously. The other kids used to laugh at Joan’s visions. But the visions persisted. Until one day in May, 1428, when Joan was
16, the saints suddenly told her to go and see Charles in Chinon. Now, this was a problem. The war had left steadfastly pro-Charles Domrémy
completely surrounded by hostile Burgundian territory. With Chinon around 500 kilometers away, any
journey Joan undertook on her own would likely have ended up with her dead. So Joan didn’t even try. Instead, she went to the nearby pro-Charles
stronghold of Vaucouleurs. There she found the garrison commander, Robert
de Baudricourt, and demanded he send her to the rightful king. Robert de Baudricourt responded by throwing
her out on her ear. No joke. He actually told Joan to make sure her father
gave her a good beating! Spurned, Joan went back to Domrémy, presumably
muttering obscenities. The rest of 1428 passed slowly. In Domrémy, Joan’s father tried to marry
her off, only for Joan to successfully argue in court that she’d taken a vow of chastity
and must remain single. Throughout the proceeds, Joan kept on talking
about her visions, to the point that the news began to seep to other villages. There were even stirrings that she might be
the virgin prophesized to lead France to victory over England. Eventually, the rumors reached the Burgundian
forces. They responded by sacking Joan’s village. Remember, the House of Burgundy was allied
with England. The last thing they wanted was some prophetess
saying Charles of Valois should be king. If the sacking was meant to be a warning,
though, it had the opposite effect. In January, 1429, Joan returned to Vaucouleurs. As she rode there, word of her visions spread. By the time she reached Robert de Baudricourt,
she was a minor celebrity. And Baudricourt noticed. When Joan repeated her demand to see Charles,
Baudricourt unexpectedly agreed. He gave Joan six armed men as an escort and
pointed her in the direction of Chinon. Just like that, Joan of Arc was off to see
the king. A Time to Fight
We guess you’re probably wondering why Baudricourt changed his mind. Some think it was just to get this pushy peasant
off his back. Others think he’d taken note of the Burgundians
sacking Joan’s village and realized there must be something to her. But there’s a more likely explanation. By early 1429, the French were desperate. The news of the war coming in could not be
worse. The English and the Burgundians were running
riot in the north, while French forces were bankrupt and low on morale. Worse, back in October, 1428, the English
had laid siege to the vital town of Orléans. Word was, Orléans was about to fall. When it did, it would be game over for the
French. All of which may be why, on February 13, 1429,
Joan and her guard of six men were allowed to ride out of Vaucouleurs and into the unknown. It can’t be stressed how dangerous this
was. Joan was a girl, riding into lawless territory. It doesn’t take much to imagine what certain
men might have done to her. Thankfully, Joan realized this. Before setting off, she cut her hair short
and began dressing in men’s clothes. There’s evidence it was more than just a
disguise. During her ride to Chinon, Joan adopted the
habits of the six men she was with. She slept alongside them, dressed with them,
acted like one of the boys. It’s something she’d do again while serving
in Charles’s army, and it’s likely the key to the respect her men had for her. 11 days after setting off, Joan and her entourage
finally arrived at Chinon. The stories of what happened next are legendary. Charles refused to admit this strange girl
for two days, before finally testing her by hiding among his entourage and calling for
her. The moment she entered the room, Joan – who
couldn’t possibly have seen him before – strode straight up to Charles and declared she’d
been charged by God to lift the siege on Orléans and make him king. It was an impressive display, and one probably
matched in the private meeting the two then had, although we can’t say for sure because
no records survive. What we can say is that Charles emerged from
that meeting ready to give Joan a chance. Not to go to Orléans, but to put her case
to Church authorities. To convince them God really was working through
her. Over the next three weeks, Joan fielded questions
from a barrage of theologians. She answered with remarkable frankness. When asked to prove her abilities, she told
them to send her to Orléans so she could prove herself by lifting the siege. Eventually, the theologians must’ve figured
it was worth a shot, because they told Charles to roll with it. In April, 1429, Charles agreed. It’s a move that could have ended his crumbling
regime. Imagine the propaganda: Fake King Sends Deluded
Girl to Die in Battle! But dying at Orléans didn’t even cross
Joan’s mind. She knew God was on her side. And she was about to prove it. The Maid of Orléans
All the time Joan was trying to convince Charles to send her to Orléans, her legend was growing. We know this because the French army was so
broke that Charles was relying on volunteers. Yet, when he put out a call that basically
said “hey, who wants to go with this crazy girl and die defending a random city!”,
thousands of men responded. It was the first sign of the almost mystical
loyalty Joan was already able to command. On April 29, 1429, Joan and her new army arrived
at the siege of Orléans, Joan riding atop a white horse, her Christian banner held high. With some quick diversionary work, they gained
access to the city, expecting to be heralded as saviors. Instead, they found a city on the brink of
collapse. Orléans was at that time under the control
of a man literally called “the Bastard of Orléans”. While the title referred to his parentage,
it could have been used in our modern sense. The Bastard loathed Joan. He was gearing up to surrender, and didn’t
need some jumped up peasant telling him God was gonna save them. He locked Joan out of meetings, refused to
give her any role. It was a move designed to get rid of her. But it was also a move that failed to recognize
one important point. All the new troops from Chinon were loyal
to Joan. And the rank and file of Orléans were already
turning to her side. On May 4, Joan was resting when she suddenly
had another vision, telling her to attack the English. She grabbed her sword and banner and raced
out the city to the east, just as the French were beginning an assault on a fort. The sight of God seemingly coming to their
side rallied the French. As Joan plunged into the thick of the battle,
they began to fight hard. The fort fell. Then the next day another. And another. By the time May 7 dawned, the French had done
the impossible. They’d broken the siege. All that remained was to make a last assault
on the English, and Orléans would be saved. In the early hours, Joan led her army into
battle again. By now, the English were aware of the spooky
girl who made the French fight like lions. When the archers saw her raise her banner,
they took aim. The arrow hit Joan in the shoulder, piercing
six inches deep. It knocked her flat and left her in agony. She was dragged from the field for emergency
surgery. Had God just abandoned the French? Not even close. That afternoon, despite suffering a wound
that would leave most of us curled up on the floor wailing for our moms, Joan returned
to the battlefield. The sight of her banner rising once more in
the afternoon sunlight sent up a great cheer from the French. They routed the English. By May 8, England’s forces were in full
retreat. Joan of Arc had done exactly what she’d
promised to. The siege of Orléans was over. Making a King
If you need proof of the kind of power Joan of Arc had over people, look no further than
what happened after the siege of Orléans. With the English in flight, the French forces
went to chase them, only to be told by Joan in no uncertain terms that it was a Sunday
and good Catholics didn’t fight on Sunday. Amazingly, these rough men listened to her. The English were allowed to escape. As they retreated, it’s said Joan went and
wept over their dead, a sign of respect that would not be reciprocated at her trial. Not that Joan had much time to weep. She already had another task. She needed to get Charles to Reims. The trouble was, Reims wasn’t like Orléans,
sitting on the frontlines. It was deep into English territory. She might as well try and take Charles to
London. But Joan kept on pressing and finally Charles
was all like “you know what? Fine. But clear a path for me first!” That’s exactly what Joan did. Over the next few weeks, her army stormed
up and down the Loire River, liberating towns. So effective was she that the English began
to believe she was possessed by the devil. Not that Joan was particularly satanic. She never personally fought, instead using
her banner and bravery to inspire her men. And she absolutely forbid her forces to loot,
or to rape any women. The only unusual part, from a Medieval perspective,
was the way she insisted on dressing with and sleeping alongside her men. It’s because of this that modern historians
have theorized she may have been gay or trans. Finally, on June 18, Joan’s forces met the
remnants of the English at the Battle of Patay. To say Joan’s army mopped the floor with
them would be to do a disservice to mops. They pulverized them. After this, Charles couldn’t ignore Joan
any longer. When she came back and told him to get his
kingly ass to Reims, he agreed. As Joan and Charles rode across northern France,
town after town fell without putting up any resistance. They liberated Auxerre. Châlons. Troyes, where the French had had to sign that
humiliating treaty with Henry V. On July 16, the royal army finally reached
Reims. The gates opened as they approached. The city of kings had fallen. Just two months ago, getting the French army
to Reims was like asking Jar Jar Binks to single handedly fight his way inside Darth
Vader’s private chambers. And now here Joan and Charles were, triumphant. The very next day, July 17, 1429, Charles
of Valois was coronated Charles VII of France. Joan stood beside him during the ceremony
and, afterwards, she knelt and called him her king. At that point, her visions just… stopped. Her mission was over, and God apparently didn’t
have any more plans for her. But it seems Joan had gotten a taste for battle. As Charles VII embarked on a victory lap around
his newly-conquered territories, the Maid of Orléans made a fateful decision. She decided to go to Paris. Defeat
On August 28, 1429, Charles VII opened peace negotiations with the Burgundians, who were
suddenly super not hot on their alliance with the losing English. The news gave Joan a bad feeling that any
peace treaty might block her taking action against Paris. This was a big deal, as the French capital
lay in the hands of the English. So Joan went rogue. On September 8, she led her army out independently
to attack Paris. Big mistake. To continue our Star Wars metaphors, taking
Paris in 1429 was like trying to break into the Death Star using only an anchovy as a
hammer. The walls were nearly 30ft high! Still, Joan tried, waving her banner, demanding
Paris surrender. She got a crossbow bolt through the leg for
her trouble and was dragged from the battlefield screaming at her men to continue the assault. Instead, they retreated. When word got back to Charles what Joan was
up to during these delicate negotiations, he cut her loose. Yep, Joan may have made him king, but Charles
had no problem with stopping her supplies of weapons and men and basically ignoring
her. While he did allow her to keep fighting, it
was probably just to keep her busy. A Joan riding around liberating the odd small
town was a Joan not whipping up discontent in the army. Still, it wasn’t until spring 1430 that
it became clear just how far Charles was distancing himself from the girl who’d saved his regime. During an attempt to relive a siege on Compiègne
on May 23, Joan was knocked from her horse behind enemy lines. Seeing no point in fighting on, she allowed
herself to be captured by Burgundian forces. Everyone expected Charles to quickly trade
for her. Everyone expected wrong. Charles didn’t lift a finger. This left the Burgundians in an awkward position. On the one hand, they wanted to keep Charles
happy and sign a treaty with him. On the other, they didn’t want to just return
his best leader to the field to take more Burgundian towns. So, in July, 1430, they reached a compromise. They sold Joan to the English. When Joan heard the news, she attempted to
commit suicide by leaping from the tower of a castle. But she survived and, on January 3, 1431,
she was handed over to the English loyalists of northern France. So what did the English and their stooges
do when they got their grubby little paws on the girl who made Charles VII king? Why, they took her to Rouen and put her on
trial. Joan the Martyr
On March 25, 1431, the Church authorities at Rouen charged Joan on 70 religious points,
ranging from heresy to dressing in men’s clothes. Weird as that last one seems, it was legit. Deuteronomy 22:5 does actually contain a direct
prohibition from God on women wearing men’s clothes. So, now you know. Joan’s prosecutors set theological traps,
trying to trip her up in doctrine. One of the key parts of the Joan of Arc myth
is the way she was able to avoid these traps and leave the prosecutors with almost nothing. Those 70 original charges? The authorities were forced to throw 58 of
them out. But let’s not kid ourselves that this was
just a spirited debate about theology. From the moment she got to Rouen, Joan was
kept in awful conditions. She was chained to a filthy bed in a filthy
prison and given just enough food to keep her from dying. Day and night, male guards watched her, taunting
her, threatening her with assault. On April 18, Joan’s conditions caused her
to fall badly sick. Convinced she was dying, she begged to be
allowed to see a priest. Her request was refused. Finally, on May 24, the authorities had had
enough. Unable to settle the last 12 points, they
dragged Joan outside for a mock execution then basically said “sign this confession,
or we’re doing it for real.” Joan signed. The document contained a very specific clause,
forbidding her from ever dressing as a man again, under pain of death. Some think that clause was inserted very deliberately,
because a couple of days later the authorities came to visit Joan in prison and found her
dressed as a boy. The official version is that Joan claimed
the saints had ordered her to wear them. But other sources suggest the cause was far
darker. Supposedly, the men guarding Joan stripped
her naked and gave her the choice of either putting on male clothes, or remaining naked
before them. Knowing what could happen if she remained
naked, Joan chose the clothes. Regardless, the outcome was the same. On May 30, 1431, Joan was led out to Place
du Vieux-Marché and tied to a stake. It’s said one of her guards slipped her
a wooden crucifix on the way to comfort her. That warm spring day, Joan of Arc was burned
alive. The executioner was forbidden from easing
her misery by killing her before the flames reached her flesh, and Joan died screaming
in agony. Her last reported words were the pitiful wailing
of a teenager, begging for St Michael to rescue her. The angel never appeared. When the execution was over, the authorities
had her remains burned again, and then scattered her ashes in the river. The story of Joan of Arc was over. Or was it? Nineteen years after Joan was executed, Charles
VII rode in Rouen. By now the Hundred Years’ War was winding
down and the French were on the verge of winning. Stood in the city where his onetime savior
burned to death, Charles ordered an inquiry into Joan’s trial. This inquiry ended up at the Vatican where,
in 1456, Pope Calixtus III annulled all charges against her. When the news reached France, Joan was elevated
to a martyr. The 116 years of conflict had finally ended
in 1453, and war-shattered France needed a national hero. In Joan, they found one. She’s kinda remained there ever since. On May 16, 1920, Pope Benedict XV canonized
her. Four days later, the French parliament declared
a national day in her honor. Fast forward to today, and she’s arguably
more famous than Charles VII, Henry V, or any of the forgotten kings who fought and
raged around her. But there’s more to Joan’s legacy than
just being remembered. You can still see the effect she had on the
entire world. Historians think it’s unlikely Charles VII
would have won the Hundred Years’ War without Joan. That means an English victory which, great
as that sounds, would have meant no united French nation. Just think. No France means no French Revolution, which
means no Napoleon, which means no modern world. Just to pick at random, there would be no
metric system, no Louisiana purchase, no France to back the Americans in the Revolutionary
Wars. The entire planet would look completely different. Was Joan of Arc divinely inspired, or just
a deluded peasant girl whose belief was enough to make her a warrior? It almost doesn’t matter. In her 19 short years on Earth, Joan of Arc
changed the world in ways even kings and emperors rarely do. She may have been born a nobody, but she died
St. Joan of Arc, the heroine of France.
