THE WITCH

of
ROUEN

A JOAN OF ARC RETELLING

 DEDICATED TO:
Strong women in the world

may you prove all men wrong

T here is always a rebellion, a new war in Rouen. From the moment light broke
through her thin, damp eyelids, she was told she would kill a great evil. When her mother
got pregnant, Jeanne‟s father was so sure of himself that she would grow strong to lead
the army, willed enough to lift the sword, and brave enough to end the war.

You could see the defeat in his face when the doctor informed him his wife gave birth to
a girl—an insult to his honor. „You must be better than this,” he said, gentle whispers at first, but
on some nights, when the year had been rough, he would scream it.

Girls were seen as useless. People believed that a wife‟s duty is to get pregnant. Having
many kids is a symbol of health and wealth which struck her as odd because most families here
are struggling to provide for their children.

Girls are married to men when they reached the age of fourteen. At that age, their body
isn‟t ready to carry a child. When they miscarriage, people begin to whisper, rumors circulate
that it must be due to witchcraft if she can‟t have children. All of them looked old. Like a child
who skipped childhood, was forced to take care of children when they are children themselves,
and were shunned for not performing their job.

This was every girl‟s destiny in Rouen, but not for Jeanne; she proved her town wrong.

“Ready!” she shouted, the shuffles of all five armies as they drew their weapons. The
arrow hung in the air for a few seconds before it began to tilt, its long journey back to the earth.
Jeanne created strategies and was at the forefront of all the battles. Her reputation spread far and
wide among the French forces. She restored peace under a disguise: she cut her hair short and
dressed in man‟s clothing. When the king ordered her to confront an assault on Compiѐgne, the
ground beneath her trembles. The air is filled with the sound of clashing swords while the
Burgundians took her captive.

The murmurs of the crowd greeted Joanne. A man stepped forward and motioned the
masses to be quiet. “Citizens of Rouen, the witch have become our prisoner!” The crowd roared
triumphantly. “I, Bishop Pierre Cauchon, sentenced you to death for horse theft, sorcery, and
dressing like a man!”

She surveyed the crowd, taking in all of their faces, feeling a sharp pang in her stomach.
The world revolves around men, and strong women are their number one threat. This is the great
evil she cannot escape.

“Any last words Jeanne d‟Arc?” Cauchon‟s head tilted curiously.

As she was bound to a wooden stake, her ground slowly consumed by flames. She cried,
“Jesus, Jesus, Jesus!”