29th May 1431, the Tour de la Pucelle, Rouen

A vigilant night sky, stars aplenty to wish upon

Alas the last night on earth for the girl of visions,

for young Joan, The Maid of Orléans


Just 19 years and banged up, convicted as a

witch, her cross-dressing a heresy punishable

by death under the suitably adapted to fit the bill

English interpretation of ecclesiastical law thus

ridding themselves of a burdensome blood blister


The kid never stood a chance really, certainly not

after po-faced Henry Beaufort and his bastard inquisitors

had finished with her. The verdict after the ‘show trial’?

To burn alive at the stake, a predetermined given


I met with her that night, that night before her last sleep,

if she got any sleep that is; a pleasant enough youngster

for one of illiterate peasant pedigree she possessed a

mind as sharp as an old blade left out under a full moon


My purpose in paying her a call you may very well ask?

Her last supper if the truth be told, I am a chef of some renown

My old drinking chum, the Dominican friar, Isambart de la Pierre

asked me, me an old closet atheist to sneak her in a bit of a treat

on the scoff front, I decided Lobster Thermidor was just the ticket


Had to bung the guards a good few groats mind, grasping sods

to a man that they all are, still it was the very least I could do

Whatever she tucked in like billy-o, even held the plate to her lips

and licked it clean all over, let out a belch of satisfaction afterwards!


“Stupendous sauce Sir! Indeed a sauce to die for…oops,” wiping the back of her sleeve across her lips 

“Cheers…amazing what can be done with a few shallots and a drop of cream”


I made light of her plight, even told a joke or two

taking care they were not too near the mark what with

her being a bit like it on the religious front, still she cracked a smile


“Why you dressed as a boy soldier Joannie girl?” 

“Oh that old nugget. Since the guards left me sweet Fanny Adams to wear I had to barter a bit of this, a bit of that for some kit. Came in handy as a matter of fact as it fastens up into one piece. Makes it harder for the sicko Lords and Clergy to…well you know…I don’t need to spell it out to a man of the world such as yourself do I?”

“No you don’t luv, scum of the earth they are. Here before I take of my leave I mustn’t forget to give you this.” 

“What is it?” 

“Oh just a hand carved little wooden cross one of the English archers took the risk of making for you…look he made it into a necklace…he thought you’d like to wear it tomorrow…like…draw a bit a comfort from it.” 

“Thank him from me would you…a kind gesture. Are you at the old market place for my burning in the morning? I understand there’s quite a crowd expected.” 

“No luv it’s not my cup of tea. Look I better be off now…take care and keep the faith.”


As to why I said ‘take care’ I will never know

Heard her chuckling over that as I left

Obviously our paths never crossed again




  1. What a wonderful thought. I hope her last night on earth had some brief pleasure. St. Joan’s story always fascinated me. Alas, no angels ever spurred me on to excel at anything except laziness.

    1. Good point! I simply love the concept of putting myself into a bit of history and playing a part that doesn’t change history yet, as in this instance chucks a bit of compassion at it. I even researched this one a bit…well aside from the lobster of course! Thanks again

      1. Probably racist, sexist, homophobic and the rest of it! From the little I researched about Joan – deluded on the religious front as she was – she committed no heresy yet was murdered by us English. As the old French saying goes ‘Nothing changes, everything stays the same’!

    1. A grave omission on my part…how could I overlook the fact that gals like chocolate…especially so for a ‘last supper’! Did you know that we got some sublime Belgium chocolates for the daughters of a friend when we were away…handed them to their mother when we got back and later discovered she scoffed the lot and the kids got none!

    1. Thank you Lane. In all my skits I try to ensure the gals win out. A little difficult with this one admittedly yet sadly I cannot change history – oh that I could!

    1. Obviously she was a bit of a nutter yet how cruel the politics of war…The Net Crashed! Sounds like the title of an Agatha Christie…bit like one of hers I wrote up ages ago, ‘The Elastic Snapped’!

    1. I got The Elastic Snap from my now deceased mother-in-law who was telling the tale of an unfortunate accident with her knicker elastic whilst waiting for the Plymouth bound bus back in the day!

      1. She overlooked my donkey allergy and vertigo as it happens but had I been of normal disposition it would have been the soundest of maternal advice

    1. Ah young M Winter I actually researched this…it was a trumped up charge from which us good old English played around with the law to come to a conclusion that cross dressing was a heresy in the eyes of the Lord and bingo that was Joannie stuffed!

      1. LOL! Well, a few years back, when she sent me a text telling me about her amazing meal of lobster thermidor, I had no idea the chef was you. Of course, she was quite rude! She never responded to my reply the next day.

    1. Really? I mean seriously? There must be so much energy over there with all that history. I’d love to see it all. I think I need about a year for holiday plus a knowledgeable guide.

      1. Squeezing history in the air about one is the finest thing…when we lived in Devon I pointed out a pub built in the 16 hundreds to an Aussie friend…he was dumbfounded! If you like history Europe has a good chunk of it that’s for sure…just last week we were standing on the remains of an old Roman lighthouse here in Dover!

      2. Bet you do! For my part I have blown up my laptop with years of photos stored therein…just hope G has most/some of them on an external hard drive…we are trying to locate said hard drive as I write! What with that and me having a second head following the tooth extraction this hasn’t been a good week!

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