For a nation as chauvinistic as France, it must be something of an embarrassment that one of its greatest military triumphs — and over the English no less — was led by a woman, actually a teenage girl, named Joan of Arc. Alas, Joan paid dearly for that honor, having later been tried as a heretic by the vengeful English and burned at the stake this week (May 30) in 1431.

It was during the Hundred Years’ War between England and France that Joan, a fanatical Catholic, began to hear “celestial voices,” which told her to help the young French Dauphin, whose coronation as French king was prevented by English control of vast stretches of French territory, including a successful siege of the French city of Orleans. At an arranged meeting, Joan convinced the Dauphin that she was on a divine mission to save France, so he gave her a small French force, which she led to Orleans to relieve French forces trapped there.  In fierce fighting, Joan broke the siege and forced the English army to retreat.  Over the next month, Joan and her small French army defeated the English at every turn, finally recapturing the city of Rheims, where the coronation of French kings traditionally took place.

That tradition continued in July of 1429 when the dauphin became King Charles VII. At the coronation, Joan D’Arc was given a place of honor beside him.

As king, however, Charles VII took a curiously pacifist approach to the English, pinning his hopes on diplomacy, so it was without royal support that Joan again took the field against the English occupiers in 1430.   Intending to fight them at Compiegne, a city near Paris, Joan was ambushed by forces loyal to the Duke of Burgundy (who had allied himself with England), captured and sold to the English for a large sum.

Bent on revenge, the English put Joan on trial, not for her military exploits — military victories were not punishable by death — but because “hearing voices” proved she was a witch and heretic.  Found guilty, Joan was given a lifetime prison sentence, but later, after violating the terms of that sentence, she was condemned to burn at the stake in the English-controlled city of Rouen, in Normandy.  With a crucifix in her hands, and repeatedly praising “My Lord, Jesus Christ,” Joan at last died. Her ashes were scattered over the Seine River.

But her legend would not die, and five centuries later the “heretic” would become a martyr — and a saint.  In 1920, Joan was canonized by Pope Benedict XV, making her among the few people in all of history to have saved both her country, and her soul.

This week (Jan. 10 by the Roman calendar) in 49 B.C., Roman proconsul Julius Cesar and his army crossed the Rubicon River, which marked the boundary between the Roman province of Gaul and Italy proper.  In doing so, Caesar defied the Roman Senate, which had warned him that to cross the Rubicon with his army would make him an outlaw, punishable by death.

But to Caesar, crossing the Rubicon without his army would leave him at the mercy of his many enemies in the Senate, who were jealous of Caesar’s military victories and fearful of his battle-hardened and loyal army, which had just spent six brutal years conquering Gaul.  Thus the Senate commanded Caesar to leave his army behind and come alone to Rome to face charges of committing war crimes during the Gaul campaign.  Caesar knew he would be found guilty, regardless of the truth, and sent into exile.  This would have, as he put it, “stripped me of my dignitas” — his dignity, his respect.   To Caesar, a soldier and statesman, that was a fate worse than death.

And so Caesar crossed the Rubicon with his army and headed for Rome, expecting to battle his chief adversary, Pompey, who had assembled an army larger than Caesar’s and who had the advantage of the defensive position inside Rome’s walls.   But even Pompey feared the powerful soldiers that Caesar commanded, and fled Rome, heading for Greece.  Caesar followed and at the battle of Pharsalus, Caesar destroyed Pompey’s army, causing Pompey to flee to Egypt.

Returning to Rome triumphantly, Caesar was given dictatorial powers, which he used to implement a number of badly needed political, economic and financial reforms.  In 49 B.C. Rome faced an economic crisis, a debt and mortgage crisis that had led to many bankruptcies, and an unpopular war in the Middle East (sound familiar?).  Most of Caesar’s reforms were successful; he instituted a public works program that put people back to work, he passed a debt restructuring law that eased the debt crisis and reduced bankruptcies, and he put in place important land reforms.  Indeed, it was as much for these policies as his military exploits that Rome’s citizens eventually made him dictator for life.

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“We few, we happy few, we band of brothers.” – Shakespeare’s Henry V addressing his troops before the Battle of Agincourt

The Battle of Agincourt, among the most famous “David vs. Goliath” battles in all of war, occurred this week (Oct. 25) in 1415. The battle pitted “David,” a weary and depleted 7,000-man British army led by the young King Henry V, against “Goliath,” an army of 20,000 French noblemen, both cavalry and infantry, who were well rested, well equipped and were fighting on their home turf.

Claiming his right to the French throne, Henry had invaded France two months earlier and had been fighting ever since. As a result he had lost nearly half of his army either in battle or from disease, which prompted his decision to return to England to re-supply.  But while marching to Calais, where he planned to rendezvous with an English fleet and sail home, he was met at Agincourt by the French force led by Charles d’Albret.  The battle lines were drawn.

As most students of English history know, against overwhelming odds, Henry’s forces carried the day, destroying the much larger French force, although there is still some debate over the chief causes of victory.

But some things are agreed upon.  Weeks of heavy rains had made the battlefield a muddy mess, which not only weighed down further the heavy armor the French wore, but also made it virtually impossible for them to maneuver.  Both French cavalry and the heavily armored French infantry repeatedly sank into the muddy fields and had difficulty moving, which made them sitting ducks for the English archers and highly mobile foot soldiers with their swords, spears, hatchets and billhooks (knives).

Further, the English changed the course of the battlefield by planting sharp wooden stakes that both protected their archers from French cavalry charges and servd as a wedge, pushing French troops closer together in an increasingly narrow space that made maneuverablity that much harder and French vulnerability that much greater.

The result was a rout.  Much of the French leadership was killed, including d’Albret, and the demoralized French troops soon surrendered.  When the mud had settled, French casualties exceeded 5,000. English losses numbered around 300.

As a result of his victory, Henry was recognized as heir to the French throne, but his untimely death two years later of “camp fever” (probably dysentery) ended his dreams of combined rule.  Still, England had the better of France for the next 14 years until the tide of battle was turned by a French military victory at least as miraculous as Agincourt.  That would be the French victory at Orleans in 1429, which was led by a French teenage girl named Joan of Arc.