St. Joan by George Bernard Shaw Compiled Notes
St. Joan by George Bernard Shaw Compiled Notes
St. Joan by George Bernard Shaw Compiled Notes
Saint Joan, chronicle play in six scenes and an epilogue by George Bernard Shaw, performed in 1923 and
published in 1924. It was inspired by the canonization of Joan of Arc in 1920, nearly five centuries after
her death in 1431. Shaw attributes Joan’s visions to her intuition and understanding of her historical
mission. The action of the play follows historical events. Shaw’s Joan leads France to victory over the
English by dint of her innate intelligence and leadership and not through supernatural guidance. As in the
historical record, she is captured and sold to the English, who convict her of heresy and burn her at the
stake. Joan is the personification of the tragic heroine; her martyrdom embodies the paradox that humans
fear—and often kill—their saints and heroes. The play’s epilogue concerns the overturning of the
church’s verdict of heresy in 1456 and her canonization.
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George Bernard Shaw was born in 1856 in Dublin, the youngest child of George Carr Shaw, a civil
servant, and Lucinda Elizabeth (Bessie) Shaw, a singer. Shaw unhappily attended four schools in his
youth and developed a deep distaste for formal education. Bessie left for London in 1873 with his two
older sisters, and Shaw followed them there in 1876. Shaw took odd jobs while in London, but it wasn’t
until the 1880s that he began to make a livable income from writing. His first published works were
novels, though he is best known for his dramas. Shaw became politically active during this time,
attending meetings with the Social Democratic Federation. He joined the Fabian Society, a recently
formed British socialist organization, in 1884. Shaw’s support of socialism often figures thematically into
his writing. He shifted his focus from politics to playwriting in the 1890s and would establish a reputation
as a major dramatist by the beginning of the 20th century. Shaw was a prolific playwright, having
published over 60 plays, many of which contain the elements of sharp social criticism demonstrated in
The Plays Unpleasant. Among his more famous plays are Major Barbara (1905), Pygmalion (1912) and
Saint Joan (1923). In 1925—shortly after the publication of Saint Joan—Shaw received the Nobel Prize
for Literature. He died in 1950 at the age of 94.
Two major historical moments relevant to Saint Joan are the Hundred Years’ War and the Inquisition.
One of the most significant military conflicts of the Middle Ages, the Hundred Years’ War was
comprised of a series of territorial conflicts that occurred between France and English between 1337 and
1453. Historians typically divide the war into three major phases: the Edwardian War (1337-1360), the
Caroline War (1369-1389), and the Lancastrian War (1415-1453). The events of Saint Joan take place
during the Lancastrian War. One major development of the Hundred Years’ War was a heightened sense
of nationalism in France and England. Shaw explores nationalism’s influence in secular characters like
Warwick who see Joan’s nationalist idea that serfs should pledge allegiance to one king (rather than to
non-centralized, local land-owning nobility) as a threat to the existing feudal order. The assessors who
condemn Joan are part of the Holy Inquisition, a series of ecclesiastical courts within the Catholic Church
formed in the 12th century to address heresy. When suspected heretics tried in the Inquisition refused to
repent for their sins against the Church, they were passed from ecclesiastical authorities to secular
authorities, as was the case for Joan of Arc. After the historical events of Saint Joan took place, the
Inquisition expanded its reach to address the growing influence of the Protestantism across Europe during
the 16th century. The Inquisition is thematically important to Saint Joan because its attack on heretics
addresses the threat individuals pose to existing social institutions.
It is now May 30, 1431. The scene opens in a castle in Rouen in a stone hall arranged for Joan’s trial.
Two chairs sit side by side, raised above the rest of the court, with rows of chairs extending around them.
A table is placed in the center of these chairs for the scribes. There is a wooden stool for Joan. The court
is cut off from the outdoors, “shielded from the weather by screens and curtains.” The hall is intricately
and consciously arranged, which symbolizes the complex, rigorously structured court system to which
Joan will be subjected during her trial. That the room is “shielded from the weather by screens and
curtains” further signifies that the trial is wholly tied up in institutional power and therefore cut off from
the natural, uncorrupted world. The placement of a single wooden stool for Joan in the center of her
prosecutors’ chairs emphasizes how alone she is: visually and literally, it’s her against everyone else.
Warwick and his page enter the courtroom. Cauchon enters, along with a monk and a canon. The page
leaves the three men alone. Cauchon introduces the monk as Brother John Lemaître, who will be deputy
to the Chief Inquisitor, and the canon as Canon John D’Estivet, who will be the Promoter, or Prosecutor.
It’s been nine months since Joan was captured by the Burgundians. Warwick asks Cauchon when the trial
will be over, to which Cauchon responds that it hasn’t even begun, as the court has been busy holding 15
“examinations” of Joan. The Inquisitor explains to Warwick that, although he initially saw Joan’s case as
political, he now has enough evidence to regard it as heresy. The trial will thus begin that morning. The
court’s thorough “examinations” of Joan reflect Cauchon’s adamance that Joan be given a fair trial. In the
face of English political authorities like Warwick who are eager to see that Joan is executed, it’s crucial to
Cauchon that Joan is tried for heresy so that she is interrogated by an ecclesiastical court first and, thus,
be given the opportunity to repent, save her soul from damnation, and save herself from being burned at
the stake. By giving Joan a fair trial, Cauchon resists Warwick’s and the English force’s political
corruption. Warwick is pleased—he’d been growing impatient. Cauchon denounces the English soldiers
who threaten to drown anyone who sides with Joan. He reiterates his determination to give Joan a fair
trial. D’Estivet describes how psychologically difficult it has been for him to try Joan, as he finds her
punishment unjust and wants desperately to save her soul. All the same, he recognizes that authorities
have gone out of their way to explain to Joan the danger she is in. In this way, he can justify trying Joan.
Warwick, in contrast, doesn’t care about saving Joan’s soul and regards her punishment as a “political
necessity.” With pride, Cauchon affirms that “the Church is not subject to political necessity.” Shaw
further establishes a divide between the spiritual leaders (Cauchon and D’Estivet) for whom Joan’s soul is
the top priority and the political figures (Warwick and the English soldiers) who want Joan burned as a
“political necessity.” Still, it’s ironic that Cauchon insists that “the Church is not subject to political
necessity,” as the Church’s fear of heresy is partially motivated by their desire to maintain control over
their subjects. The Inquisitor interrupts to assure both men that neither must worry about Joan being
punished, as her own stubbornness will seal her fate: everything she says further convinces her
interrogators of her heresy. Warwick leaves. Chaplain de Stogumber and Canon de Courcelles enter the
courtroom. They are both agitated, having just learned that the 64 counts on which they’ve indicted Joan
have been reduced to 12 without their consultation. The Inquisitor claims responsibility for the reduced
charges, reasoning that too many issues will only confuse the rest of the court; further, focusing on the
“trumpery” issues of magic and witchcraft of which they’ve accused Joan might allow her to get away
with “the great main issue of heresy.” Cauchon agrees with the Inquisitor’s judgement. The Inquisitor
reveals that Joan remains ignorant of the consequences of her confidence—namely, how this affects
others’ perceptions of her and the outcome of her trial. Even with her life on the line, she remains
stubborn, refusing to compromise her values. The Inquisitor and Cauchon are adamant that the court
remain focused on “the great main issue of heresy” because heresy—not the minor, “trumpery” issues of
which Stogumber and Courcelles have accused Joan—is what poses the most significant threat to the
Church. Ladvenu, a young Dominican monk, enters the courtroom, suggesting that Joan’s heresy could be
the result of her “simplicity.” In a long speech, the Inquisitor cautions him against this position: heresy, a
very serious threat, often originates as an “apparently harmless” idea espoused by simple, pious
individuals. He cites women who refuse to wear women’s clothes and end up running around naked, as
well as people who refuse to marry and “begin with polygamy, and end by incest,” to illustrate that even
the most innocent transgressions can morph into wicked, destructive forces. The Church knows that
“diabolical madnesses” begin with people like Joan who “set[] up their own judgment against the
Church.” The Inquisitor disregards Ladvenu’s suggestion that the court should view Joan’s “simplicity”
as a sign of her innocence. He places more weight on the consequences of Joan’s actions—like the
possibility that commoners will learn to “set[] up their own judgment against the Church”—than on
Joan’s motivations for committing these actions in the first place. It doesn’t matter to the Inquisitor that
Joan isn’t consciously plotting a calculated attack against the Church—it only matters that her actions
pose this threat. What is so dangerous about Joan’s heresy, states the Inquisitor, is that it is not just an act:
she sincerely believes that her “diabolical” ideas are “divine.” Those who judge Joan must be on guard
not to feel compassion for her, as her diabolically inspired pride has not hardened the other aspects of her
soul in a visibly discernable way. Joan’s natural humility might make her judges feel cruel to condemn
her, but the Inquisitor reminds the court “that nothing is so cruel in its consequences as the toleration of
heresy.” Like other characters in Saint Joan have done before him, the Inquisitor attacks the confidence
Joan places in her own conviction. If other individuals were to follow in Joan’s footsteps, it would destroy
the Church’s ability to exercise control over the masses, as they—like Joan—would be more inclined to
answer to themselves before the Church. When the Inquisitor insists “that nothing is so cruel in its
consequence as the toleration of heresy,” he shows that the court is willing to be “cruel” to Joan if it
means the Church’s power will be upheld. In this way, Joan’s condemnation becomes a political necessity
to the Church as well as the secular realm. The Inquisitor insists that everyone should be grateful to the
Holy Inquisition: before it existed, someone like Joan would have been violently executed without a trial.
Ultimately, Joan’s judges need to value justice over anger or pity. Cauchon agrees with the Inquisitor and
further admonishes Joan’s “Protestant” type of heresy, arguing that it is particularly dangerous because it
spreads not amongst the simple, but amongst those with a “stronger” mind. The greater one values the
truth of their “private judgment,” the greater the threat they pose to the Church. Cauchon finds Joan’s
“Protestant” heresy particularly dangerous because it gathers its strength from an individual’s “stronger”
assurance in their ability to have a relationship to God without the Church’s help and, more generally, to
have confidence in their own convictions without having to answer to authority figures. Individuals who
possess a stronger sense of self will be more reluctant to submit to the orders of social institutions.
Two English soldiers bring Joan to the courtroom and lead her to her wooden stool. She is in chains and
wears a page’s suit. A long imprisonment has taken a toll on her, but she still appears vibrant and
determined—albeit a bit pale. Before the trial can begin, Joan questions why she must be in chains,
prompting Courcelles to remind her that she tried escape multiple times. In response to this, D’Estivet
accuses of her of heresy, as her attempted escapes prove she wanted to remove herself from the Church’s
control. Cauchon tells Joan to be quiet, as her obstinance is not helping her case. Joan displays her
stubbornness verbally as she continues to question the court’s actions, as well as visually through the
men’s clothing she wears during her trial. The Inquisitor reminds D’Estivet that the trial hasn’t officially
begun because Joan has yet to take the oath to tell the whole truth. Joan continues to be obstinate, telling
the Inquisitor she cannot tell “the whole truth” in court because only God can know all. Courcelles
recommends that Joan be tortured if she doesn’t take the oath to tell the whole truth, arguing that it’s not
cruel to torture Joan—it’s the law. Cauchon is adamant to not torture Joan unless it is absolutely
necessary: it’s most important to save Joan’s “soul and body,” and it would be counterintuitive to destroy
them both. Courcelles says this is not usually what is done, and Joan mocks this simplistic logic. Even as
characters like Courcelles and D’Estivet show Joan that her legal assessors are willing to pounce on the
smallest transgressions if they will result in her conviction, she refuses to back down. Shaw underscores
here how Joan’s confidence and integrity is transformed into foolishness and obstinance in the face of
corrupt officials who will stop at nothing to uphold their institutional values; Joan’s integrity matters little
in the face of corrupt power. Cauchon returns the court to its central concern, asking Joan if she will
“accept the judgment of God’s Church on earth.” Joan responds that she will not accept the Church’s
judgment if it forces her to recant her visions. Horrified, the assessors call this answer “flat heresy.” The
Inquisitor asks Joan if she will recant if the Church Militant tells her that her visions came from the devil
instead of God, but Joan maintains that her visions came from God. Ladvenu pleads with Joan to yield to
the Church, but to no avail. She responds simply: “what other judgment can I judge by but my own?”
Joan refuses to adapt her understanding of her visions to fit the version the court finds palatable—that
they came from the devil instead of God—which sets her apart from other characters in the play who
repeatedly demonstrate that they are willing to compromise their values to seek a political end. When
Joan asks “what other judgment can I judge by but my own?” she positions her personal, subjective
knowledge of the world as superior to religious or political dogma. Cauchon tells Joan that—despite the
numerous opportunities the court has given her to save herself— she has condemned herself with this
statement. D’Estivet affirms that Joan’s two biggest crimes are acting on behalf of “evil spirits” and
dressing in men’s clothing, which is “indecent, unnatural, and abominable.” D’Estivet places Joan’s
decision to wear men’s clothing on par with something so supposedly wicked as acting on behalf of “evil
spirits,” which speaks to the sexism that colors the court’s perception of Joan. The Inquisitor tells Joan the
Church has decided with certainty that her voices come from the devil and asks her if she accepts this
position. Once more, she refuses to deny the holiness of her voices. Cauchon grows frustrated and asks
Joan if she knows what she’s saying, and she insists that she does. The Inquisitor asks Joan if she will
remove her men’s clothing, but she refuses, as her voices tell her to dress like a soldier. Ladvenu asks if
she can justify this request. She replies simply: she lived, slept, and fought with soldiers, so it made sense
for them to think of her as one of them. Ladvenu concedes that Joan’s appearance might be shocking, but
her logic is sound. Joan insults the court some more. Even though Joan insists that she knows what she’s
saying, it’s clear she’s not fully aware of the consequences of her actions. She still has yet to wrap her
head around the fact that the complex legal, political, and ecclesiastical systems to which she is now
subjected will execute her for her obstinance. It illustrates the court’s hypocrisy that they will accept
Joan’s word (that she knows what she is saying) now when it allows them to condemn her, but that they
misconstrue her words as heresy and obstinance when they doesn’t benefit their political agendas. The
Inquisitor tells Joan that the stake is ready for her burning. Joan is shocked: her voices had promised to
protect her from harm. She can’t believe they would lead her astray, though she finally accepts that it
must be true. Ladvenu tells her that the Church will welcome her back, and Cauchon gives her a
recantation to sign. In despair, Joan agrees to recant. Joan is illiterate, so Ladvenu reads the document to
her, confirms that she understands, and then shows her how to sign her name. Once Joan signs the paper,
the Inquisitor sentences her to life imprisonment. Joan is horrified at the prospect of life in prison—she
thought she’d be allowed to go free—and she hurriedly tears the paper into pieces, reversing her
recantation. Joan’s decision to recant signifies that she finally understands the legal consequences of her
obstinance and clarifies that she hadn’t understood before, as her unfailing confidence in her voices and
herself blinded her to the reality of her situation. Her ability to modify her actions in light of the new,
critical information that she will suffer a gruesome fate if she continues to rebel is further evidence of the
sanity and intelligence she has demonstrated throughout the play, as is her revised decision to reject her
recantation when she learns that her alternative to being burned at the stake is the equally horrifying
prospect of a life in prison. Joan accuses the court of lying to her: they said they wanted to save her life,
but imprisonment wouldn’t be life to her. She could give up men’s clothing and warfare, but she can’t
bear being separated from “the wind in the trees, the larks in the sunshine,” and the rest of the natural
world. She reaffirms her previous stance: she knows the court “is of the devil,” and that she is “of God.”
The soldiers grab Joan to lead her to the stake. Cauchon reads Joan’s sentence, excommunicates her, and
passes her over to the secular arm. Chaplain de Stogumber gleefully helps the soldiers bring Joan to the
stake. Joan’s reason for rejecting the court’s offer to reduce her sentence to life in prison underscores her
loyalties to the natural, uncorrupted world of “the wind in the trees, [and] the larks in the sunshine” that
lies beyond the influence of institutions of power. Joan cannot bear to part with the natural, uncorrupted
world, which symbolizes her unwillingness to sacrifice her integrity to meet the conditions of the Church.
Cauchon laments the English’s excitement to destroy Joan while acknowledging its necessity. The
Inquisitor admits that, although he is used to such cruel practices, seeing someone as young and innocent
as Joan die is hard to accept. He feels Joan is innocent because she didn’t sufficiently understand the
accusations against her. Warwick enters, followed shortly thereafter by Chaplain de Stogumber, who is
sobbing. The Chaplain explains that he watched an English soldier give Joan a cross made of two sticks
tied together after she requested one. He made no efforts to comfort Joan, but wishes he had: Joan’s
burning profoundly affects Stogumber, who hadn’t realized how traumatic and cruel it would be. He is
beside himself in grief and shame at how callously he has treated Joan. Although the religious authorities
express remorse for Joan’s fate, they don’t deny the necessity of her death. Here, Shaw underscores
Cauchon and the Inquisitor’s hypocrisy: even though they know it is cruel and morally dubious to hand
over the innocent Joan to the English, they are still able to justify doing so on the grounds that it is best
for the Church. They have both become desensitized to the extent that they accept violence and cruelty as
necessary evils. In an unlikely twist, it is Stogumber—who, for the entirety of the play, has eagerly and
unquestioningly anticipated Joan’s ruthless execution—who is most profoundly affected by her death.
Ladvenu enters and reports on the burning: Joan had only the improvised cross pressed to her chest, so he
brought one from the church for her to hold. He tried to bring it to her hands, but the fire began to enrobe
them both, so she told him to back down and save himself. Ladvenu can’t believe that such selflessness
could have been “inspired by the devil.” He believes that God redeemed Joan in her last moments of life.
He reports hearing laughter, and he admits, wryly, that he hopes it was English laughter. His shame
reignited, the Chaplain runs away in disgrace. Like Cauchon and the Inquisitor, Ladvenu also affirms
Joan’s innocence. Ladvenu’s belief in Joan’s innocence is less hypocritical than Cauchon’s or the
Inquisitor’s (he maintains a more consistent skepticism toward her guilt), but it’s still significant that none
of the men may positively affirm Joan’s innocence until after she is dead, which speaks to Shaw’s
position that saints and dissenters like Joan will not be accepted while they are alive and, therefore,
capable of upsetting social norms. The Executioner enters and tells Warwick that the deed is done: Joan is
dead. Her remains were thrown in the river. Reflecting on Ladvenu’s earlier claim that Joan was
redeemed in her final moments of life, Warwick wonders whether he’s truly seen the last of Joan.
Summary
This scene is set in a great hall arranged for a trial, with a circular table surrounding a rough wooden stool
for the prisoner. Approximately nine months have elapsed since Joan's capture, and, as we learn later,
Warwick has ransomed Joan from her captors and has turned her over to the ecclesiastical court to be
tried for heresy. Warwick, who is forbidden to be present at an ecclesiastical trial, has come to inquire of
"Pious Peter" Cauchon about the progress of the trial. The court has already held six public and nine
private examinations, and there seems to be no progress. Cauchon introduces Warwick to the Inquisitor
(Brother John Lemaitre), a seemingly mild, elderly man, and to the chief prosecutor, Canon John
D'Estivet. The Inquisitor informs Warwick that all evidence is in, and they are ready to proceed. Warwick
is informed that all that is desired by Joan's judges is to save her soul, but he demands Joan's death as a
political necessity; ironically, The Maid herself is her own worst enemy: Every time she speaks, she
As Warwick departs, the court assembles. De Stogumber and Canon de Courcelles protest to the court
that their sixty-four meticulously drawn-up charges have been reduced to only twelve indictments. The
Inquisitor, backed by Cauchon, explains that the court is not interested in "trumpery issues." The "great
main issue" is heresy, and all of the wild, silly accusations about magic serve only to confuse the issues.
At this point, a young priest, Ladvenu, wonders if Joan's heresy is due only to her simplicity. The
Inquisitor answers in the longest speech in the drama, asserting that heresy often begins with simple
people who are often generous, lovable, humble, and charitable, people who are "saintly simpletons";
heresy, he says, begins when a simple woman rejects her clothes for the dress of a man and continues
until this "vain and ignorant person" sets up her own judgment against that of the Church and attempts to
interpret God's will, believing always "honestly and sincerely that [her] diabolical inspiration is divine."
Furthermore, The Maid is pious and chaste, but "diabolical pride and natural humility are side by side in
her." He admonishes her judges that they must avoid being either too cruel or too sympathetic toward her:
"Remember only that justice comes first." Cauchon agrees with the Inquisitor, and he reminds the court of
the great danger called "Protestantism," in which private individuals set up their own private judgments
against the collected wisdom of the Church, thus threatening the "mighty structure of Catholic
Christendom."
Joan is brought in, chained by the ankles and showing the strain of the long imprisonment and harsh
treatment. She is immediately attacked on some minor points by prosecutor D'Estivet. When Joan balks at
swearing to tell the truth once more (for the tenth time), she is threatened with physical torture. After
more time is wasted on trifles, Bishop Cauchon then asks Joan the essential question: "Will you submit
your case to the inspired interpretation of the Church Militant?" Joan agrees to obey the Church only if it
does not ask her to deny the heavenly origin of her voices; furthermore, if the Church bids her to do
something contrary to God's command, she cannot consent. This assertion causes extreme consternation
among her accusers, who consider it heresy to even think that the Church could suggest something
contrary to God.
When Ladvenu pleads with Joan to accept the authority of the Church, Joan maintains that she has never
disobeyed the Church, only that God must be served first, and she believes herself to be in a state of grace
with God. Courcelles wonders if this was so when she stole the Bishop's horse, a silly question which
causes disorder in the court. D'Estivet then charges Joan with having "intercourse with evil spirits" and of
dressing like a soldier. Joan defends her voices as heavenly voices, and she explains impatiently the
necessity of her dress in plain common sense terms: It would be foolish to live among soldiers while
dressed as a woman, and, furthermore, in an enemy prison, it would be even more foolhardy to wear
petticoats. As Joan continues to make impatient and pert or sarcastic replies, she is reminded that the
Executioner is standing directly behind her, a man who confirms that the stake is ready for Joan's
immediate burning. Joan finds herself in desperate despair: She is terrified of burning at the stake, but she
asserts that her voices promised her that she should not be burnt. Ladvenu and Cauchon use her fears to
make her confess that her voices have betrayed her: She finally agrees that her voices have deceived her
because "only a fool will walk into a fire"; God would not expect her to go to the stake. Her judges are
triumphant and immediately bring her "a solemn recantation of heresy" to sign. De Stogumber interrupts
the proceedings and denounces the court, asserting that eight hundred Englishmen wait outside, ready to
burn The Maid. When de Stogumber is quieted, Ladvenu reads to Joan the recantation which renounces
her voices as false and states that she embraces the Church for bringing her to salvation, and, in addition,
that she pledges total allegiance to the authority of the Church. Ladvenu guides her hand to sign the
document, and Joan is pronounced free from the danger of excommunication, but because she has sinned
most presumptuously, she is sentenced to spend the rest of her life in solitary confinement and perpetual
Upon hearing her sentence, Joan immediately denounces the recantation document, dreading
imprisonment in a rat-infested hole more than the flames of the stake. She tears her confession to shreds
and denounces the assembled court as fools. She cries out that she is not frightened of bread and water,
but only of being shut away in darkness, of being denied the light of the sky, the sights of the fields;
living in chains forever, she says, is impossible. To keep her from the very forces of life is the counsel of
the Devil, for she, she states, is keeping God's counsel. She pronounces the court to be unfit for her to live
among them. The Inquisitor and Cauchon immediately pronounce her "a relapsed heretic," and they state
that she must be cast out and abandoned. Joan is brutally hurried to the stake, followed by Ladvenu, who
will be by her side for her last confession. When the flames can be seen inside, Cauchon says that he
wants to stop the burning because of some technical irregularities, but the Inquisitor stops him, explaining
that the Church proceeded in perfect order, and it is the English who are guilty of irregularities. This fact
might be useful in the future because of the innocence of The Maid. The Inquisitor then explains that Joan
was innocent because she understood nothing about the proceedings; she was merely crushed by the
As the Inquisitor and Cauchon leave to witness the burning, Warwick enters and is soon followed by de
Stogumber, who staggers like a demented person to the prisoner's stool and sobs uncontrollably. When
asked what the matter is, he blubbers out that he did not know what he was doing and did not know how
horrible death by burning was. He is thankful that The Maid asked for a cross because an English soldier
was able to give her two sticks tied together for her final consolation. De Stogumber says that he feels that
he is damned, and he is admonished to control himself just as Ladvenu enters, carrying a cross which he
held for The Maid to see during her last moments of life; he says that he climbed onto the burning pyre,
but that Joan sent him back, admonishing him of the danger to himself. Ladvenu cannot understand how
Joan could, at such a time, think of the safety of others unless she were with God
When de Stogumber rushes out to pray among Joan's ashes, Warwick sends Ladvenu to look after the
Chaplain. Then, unexpectedly, the Executioner comes to report that the execution is complete. Warwick
wants assurance that no relics remain that could be sold; the Executioner, however, reports that Joan's
heart would not burn, but that all the rest of her remains are at the bottom of a river. When verbally
assured that he has heard the last of The Maid, Warwick, with a wry smile, wonders if he has truly heard
Analysis
The very setting of this scene is intensely dramatic. Joan is placed on a rough wooden stool surrounded by
her adversaries — with no one to defend her except herself and her innocence; her denial of a defense
counsel is a contradiction of modern law, and of particular note here is the fact that all representatives of
the Church maintain that she needs no defense because they all want to save her soul; this statement and
all like it must be viewed as cruelly ironical and hypocritical because after Joan is convicted, the
Inquisitor acknowledges that she was completely innocent. Likewise, the title "saint" in the play's title, as
well as Joan's subsequent rehabilitation, puts the audiences completely on Joan's side against the
prosecutor. Of course, the Inquisitor knows from the beginning that Joan is innocent. This is Shaw's point.
As with Warwick, who knows that Joan has not deliberately plotted to destroy the feudal system, but that
her innocent statements are damning and that The Maid must die for political reasons, the Inquisitor also
knows that Joan's innocence is more dangerous than any calculated plot against the Church itself. But, if
the Church allowed people to follow their own simple consciences and their innocent instincts, feelings
that "seemingly" come directly from God, then the entire structure of the Church would be undermined.
Joan, in her innocence, has no desire to destroy the Church, but in following the purity of her own voices
(that is, her own conscience), she becomes the greatest possible threat to the authority of the Church —
for if everyone followed the dictates of their own conscience, then the entire structure of the Church
would collapse. Consequently, the beginning of Joan's entire damnation occurs when the Church's
representatives ask her if she will forgo her own opinions (her voices) and accept the judgments of the
The Inquisitor, in his long speech, points out that great heresy occur when simple, innocent people like
Joan begin to trust in their own consciences rather than listen to the authority of the Church. The Church
can exist only when it has total authority, and it must stamp out any dissent or "Protestantism." The
existence of the Church is more important than the life of a simple country maid. If Joan is allowed to
live, then other, also innocent country people might begin to trust their own personal judgments and
ignore the Church's interpretations and authority. Consequently, Joan must die for the sake of preserving
the status quo of the feudal system of the authority of the Church. Anyone, however innocent, must die if
that person tries to set up "the private judgment of the single erring mortal against the considered wisdom
and experience of the Church." Consequently, as the Inquisitor points out, Joan in her innocence
constantly condemns herself, especially in such statements as the following: "In case the Church should
bid me to do anything contrary to the command I have from God, I will not consent to it, no matter what
it may be." This statement is enough to hang her since she has openly asserted that the Church might
indeed suggest something contrary to God, and the further implication is that Joan, a simple maid, can
interpret God's message better than can the Church. This is indeed "Protestantism."
Dramatically, Shaw plays off his simple spokesman for truth against his crafty, ambiguous
characterizations of the representatives of the Church. For example, the Inquisitor is presented as a kindly
old gentleman who professes a deep concern over the personal welfare of The Maid. But behind the
Inquisitor's facade is an iron mind which knows that Joan is innocent, that she is not in league with the
Devil, and that her failure to intellectually understand the charges will condemn her in spite of her
innocence. But like Warwick, the Inquisitor knows that Joan must be sacrificed for the sake of the
authority of the Church. Thus, behind the kindly facade is the determined mind of the Executioner.
Likewise, the greatest dramatic change occurs in the character of de Stogumber. In earlier scenes, as well
as here, de Stogumber is presented as a comic figure. His ferocity in demanding that The Maid be
convicted and burnt as a witch is therefore dramatically contrasted to the change in his character after
witnessing the actual burning of The Maid; now, his early ferocity and hatred turn inward upon him, and
Throughout Joan's testimony, in addition to her common sense, her gentle faith, her innocence, her
simplicity, and her transcendent beauty shine through the depressing Inquisition as though it were her
saintly halo. Indeed, throughout the entire scene, Joan is seen as a person of great common sense, a person
whose answers are so incontrovertible that it makes her questioners seem like fools. Yet even though Joan
is right when she tells D'Estivet, "Nobody could be such a fool as to believe" what he has just told her, yet
her very answer suggests that she has not the proper respect for the authority of the Church even though
the questions of the Church are stupid and foolish. Her explanation about the nature of her dress (one
should not dress in feminine finery when one is being guarded by the enemy in a dungeon) depends on
basic common sense; yet she is convicted partly on the fact that she refuses to wear fine dresses in her
situation. Joan's greatness and the turning point in this scene occur in her defiant act of tearing up her
recantation. Here, Joan represents Shaw's dynamic "Life Force" — a force that cannot exist in the
confinement of a dungeon hole. For Joan to live without the sky, the church bells, the fields, and, in
essence, without freedom is more frightening than burning at the stake. Joan's last act of freedom is to
choose death rather than to submit to perpetual imprisonment. And in so choosing death, Joan has set the
Character Analysis
Warwick is a nobleman who is in charge of English forces. He is Joan’s primary enemy in the secular
world. Warwick wants Joan to be punished because her political philosophies threaten the existing feudal
structure. Under Joan’s proposed social order, noblemen like Warwick would lose their land and social
status when all power is relinquished to one king who, in turn, answers only to God. Warwick conspires
with Peter Cauchon to capture and try Joan when both men agree that Joan is a threat to their respective
institutions’ power. Cauchon agrees to turn Joan over to Warwick and the secular arm should Joan refuse
to recant the charges of heresy of which the Church finds her guilty. Although Warwick is largely
indifferent toward Joan’s heresy, he acknowledges that in Joan, he and Cauchon have a common enemy
who threatens to dismantle and destroy the infrastructure of either man’s institution. Warwick wants Joan
punished so that he can maintain his position of power within the existing feudal system
Cauchon is a French churchman, but he is of the Burgundian faction, which makes him an ally to the
English. Cauchon believes Joan is guilty of heresy and does all in his power to assure that she is given a
fair trial with ample opportunities to understand and recant. As a religious leader, he sees it as his primary
obligation to save Joan’s soul from damnation. Cauchon works with Warwick, promising him that the
Church will turn over Joan to the English if she is captured. Cauchon’s desire to save Joan’s soul is
complicated by the fact that her direct communication with God threatens the Church’s institutional
power; in other words, Cauchon has ulterior motives for wanting Joan captured and tried: on the one
hand, he sincerely wants to save her soul but, at the same time, he needs Joan to be captured and her
spiritual philosophies halted in order for the Church to maintain its institutional power.
The court promoter, or prosecutor. He gets annoyed when Courcelles (who was involved with assembling
the 64 charges originally filed against Joan) and others bring up trite matters that detract from the more
central issue of heresy at issue in Joan’s trial. Unlike Cauchon or Warwick, d’Estivet’s investment in
Joan’s case comes from a purely legal position.
Chaplain John de Stogumber is intensely patriotic to England and strongly biased against Joan. He is a
conventional and rigid follower of rules. He considers Joan to be a witch, and therefore believes that she
should be executed without delay. A major change comes in his character after he sees Joan burning at the
stake. In order to clear his guilty conscience, he spends the rest of his life doing good deeds for others. De
Stogumber is Warwick’s Chaplain. He is not very bright, so most of Cauchon and Warwick’s nuanced
condemnations of Joan go over his head. For much of the play, the Chaplain possesses a deep hatred for
Joan. Unlike Cauchon, he has little interest in giving Joan a partial, nuanced trial. To the Chaplain, Joan is
merely a witch who must be killed. Ultimately, however, Joan’s execution has a profound effect on the
Chaplain. In the Epilogue, he reveals that he became “a different man” after Joan’s death in an attempt to
repent for the cruelty he inflicted upon her.
A young, 30-year-old priest who is present at Joan’s trial. Courcelles helped assemble 64 charges against
Joan, and he becomes annoyed when the Inquisitor dismisses all but 12 of them. He interrupts Joan’s trial
multiple times to bring up some of these trite, insignificant charges, much to the annoyance of the
Inquisitor and Cauchon.
A young Dominican priest. He is sympathetic toward Joan and wants her to be treated mercifully. As Joan
burns at the stake, he approaches her to give her a cross. When the fire grows and threatens to harm him,
Joan orders him to back away and save himself. This act of selflessness in her final moments of life leads
Ladvenu to believe that Joan was inspired not by the devil but by God, and that she was ultimately
redeemed in her final moments. After her death, he advocates for her image to be restored, and it is he
who alerts King Charles VII to the reversal of the charges pressed against Joan. Ladvenu is concerned
about the role Joan’s ignorance of the law plays in her trial—he fears she doesn’t understand the charges
pressed against her, though he ultimately finds her sentence to be
English Soldier
An English soldier who gives Joan a makeshift cross made of two twigs while she burns at the stake. His
soul is damned, but this act of generosity toward Joan allows him one day off from hell.
Symbol Analysis
Tables Symbol
Tables, which Shaw writes very purposely into Saint Joan’s stage directions, represent institutional order.
Tables appear throughout the play to symbolize the power and influence of the social institutions actively
at play in any given scene. People who sit around tables usually have close ties to powerful institutions
like the Church or the government, so whenever a table is present in Saint Joan, it’s Shaw’s way of
reinforcing to the reader how heavily institutions influence characters’ worldviews and actions and how
the need to assert institutional power and maintain the status quo can corrupt their otherwise morally
sound intentions. A notable example of this is in Scene IV, which features a philosophically rich dialogue
between Cauchon and Warwick. During this scene, the men sit at a table at an English camp and discuss
the threat Joan poses to their separate institutions (Stogumber is there as well, though he lacks the mental
capacity to contribute anything significantly insightful). Although Cauchon and Warwick begin their
dialogue opposed to and unimpressed with the other’s concerns—Warwick is invested in the problems
Joan poses for the feudal structure, and Cauchon is invested in those she presents for the Church—they
end their debate by compromising their ideals in order to meet in the middle and increase their chances of
overtaking Joan, whom they ultimately come to see as posing a similar threat to the integrity of their
respective institutions. Shaw’s decision to have this moment of moral compromise unfold at a table
emphasizes its significance to Saint Joan’s thematic exploration of corruption within institutions of
power.
Joan’s Armor
Shaw uses Joan’s armor and male attire to emphasize how boldly and incessantly Joan subverts the
misogynist norms embraced by medieval society. Joan’s armor—and, more generally, her decision to
wear men’s clothing—is a frequent point of contention for Saint Joan’s male characters. During Joan’s
trial, for example, the Inquisitor goes so far as to suggest that the act against nature Joan demonstrates in
her decision to don male clothing is as grave a sin as heresy. Joan’s armor also symbolizes her
practicality, as evidenced by the fact that her reasons for wearing it are often as pragmatic as they are
rebellious Armor is practical for Joan’s military pursuits because it protects her from the violence of
warfare. Further, if Joan is to live among other soldiers, it is imperative that they see her as an equal.
Wearing armor and men’s clothing renders her more visibly equal to her male counterparts. Throughout
the play, characters often suggest that Joan is mad and capricious but, in reality, most of her decisions are
practical and highly calculated. When Shaw references Joan’s armor or male attire in Saint Joan, he
reinforces Joan’s practicality and alerts the reader to the falsity of these claims.