To commemorate my decision to write a novel dedicated to the wondrous Maid of Orleans, I've written an essay about her. And here it is --
On May 30, 1431, nineteen-year-old Joan of Arc was burned at the stake. The charge? Witchcraft.
In 1429, an illiterate peasant girl residing in the tiny city of Domremy, France, began a
relentless pursuit to gain an audience with the heir to the French
throne, Charles VII. How she managed it is a story in itself and will
not be dealt with here. That she received it, is, of course, documented
fact. Her mission, she said, was twofold: First, to end the Hundred
Years War thereby freeing France from the yoke of England; and second,
to ensure that Charles VII was crowned king of France, thereby allowing him to rightfully ascend the throne. Toward that aim,
she was given command of the military might of an entire nation, and
after almost one hundred years of constant defeat and humiliation, the
cowardly and hopelessly outnumbered armies of France were, as if by
magic, transformed into a military machine, steamrolling mercilessly
over anything that stood in its path. Seasoned officers, with twenty
and thirty years field experience, unquestioningly obeyed the orders of
a child. The rampant criminal element which pervaded her troops—men who
had never in their lives paid heed to anyone’s orders but their
own—loyally obeyed the orders of Joan of Arc.
Then, when she
deemed the time was right, Joan, almost by force, took the sniveling
Charles by the hand, and accompanied by her armies, escorted him
through still heavily-occupied France to the city of Rheims where he
was crowned the king of France. Not a drop of blood was spilled along
the way, as a dozen or more English-held cities, one after the next,
surrendered to the child.
Two months it took her to all but end a war that had gone on for close to a century.
At various points during her two years in the limelight, Joan of Arc
demonstrated a knowledge of the law which enabled her to run rings
around the most learned legal minds of the day. Additionally, she
argued theology with the highest order of the clergy Charles VII could
throw at her leaving them in a state of bewilderment and with no choice
but to bow to her claim that she had been sent from God. And on the
battlefield, her savvy military know-how left the generals under her
command in a constant state of wonderment, as her innovative strategies
brought them victory upon victory upon victory.
Then, for
political reasons too involved to delve into here, she was betrayed by
a traitor hidden deep within the ranks of the king’s entourage. A trap
was set resulting in Joan‘s capture. For a year she lay starved and
beaten in a dungeon, her wrists and ankles fettered by close and heavy
chains. 'Why?' I hear you roar, was there no attempt to rescue her?
How could an entire nation be so ungrateful as to allow their savior to
be treated thus? And at the hands of those very oppressors from whom
she had so recently freed them? Alas, that was the way of the French.
Joan of Arc was the only source of courage they had ever known, and
with her gone from their midst, the peoples of France reverted to their
cowardly ways; an act of bravery would have been as difficult for them
to perform as setting sail for, and actually reaching, the
Constellation of Orion.
My gentle reader, should you doubt
my words, then hear these: The last two years of Joan of Arc’s life are
the best documented of any person in history. Not once, but twice. And
both times, under oath. The first was at the Trial of Condemnation at
which the finger of a rigged jury pointed the way to the burning stake.
The second—the Trial of Rehabilitation—occurred twenty years later,
wherein scores of witnesses who had known her personally told the
story. This time, and with no rigged jury anywhere in sight, the bravest, purest, and most tenacious soul who ever lived was cleared of
all charges.
And just as Jesus on the cross forgave his executioners, so too, Joan of Arc, with the flames licking at her ankles, forgave hers. But unlike Jesus who asked, “Father, why hast thou forsaken me?” Joan of Arc’s faith in God never wavered for an instant.
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