Despite being mediated by scribes, the detailed records from Joan's trial and rehabilitation offer an exceptionally rare opportunity to hear the wit, courage, and personality of a 15th-century peasant girl in her own words. This direct voice is a primary source of her enduring historical power.

Joan's judges faced a theological quandary: if her voices were demonic, was she a collaborator or a victim? Many assessors argued that being tricked by Satan isn't necessarily heretical, as all humans are fallible. This complexity shows the trial wasn't a foregone conclusion, with one theologian even suggesting consulting the Pope.

Joan's decision to wear men's clothing was a profound theological transgression, explicitly condemned in the Book of Deuteronomy. She never justified it on practical grounds like safety, but as a direct command from her voices. This framed the act as one of religious obedience that paradoxically broke religious law, making it central to her heresy charge.

Historian Johan Huizinga suggests Joan's identification of her voices with specific saints may not have been a long-held belief. Instead, it could have developed under the intense pressure of the trial, as she struggled to articulate her profound spiritual experiences in terms her interrogators could understand.

Joan's success relied on an "infectious bravery" that inspired demoralized troops and overrode the caution of veteran commanders. She consistently pushed for aggressive attacks when professionals advised delay. This highlights how a leader's conviction and confidence can become a tangible strategic advantage, transforming a unit's psychology and capacity for risk.

Contrary to the popular narrative of an English show trial, 123 out of 131 legal and theological experts involved were French. These individuals were loyal to the English-backed Burgundian faction, highlighting the deep internal divisions within France during the war.

After recanting, Joan resumed wearing male clothes. While significant, the legally damning act was admitting her voices had returned. This classified her as a "relapsed heretic," an unforgivable crime in the eyes of the Church for which the only punishment was death. A court clerk noted this in the margin as "Responsio mortifera"—a fatal reply.

Unlike many mystics who were passive recipients of divine messages, Joan had a conversational and even confrontational relationship with her voices. She would argue back if she disagreed with their counsel, demonstrating a remarkable self-confidence and an active interpretation of her divine mission rather than simple obedience.

After Joan was captured, Charles VII's regime strategically distanced itself. The official line was that God allowed her capture as punishment for her pride and folly. This narrative protected the king from the embarrassment of her failure and allowed him to move on.