king a little bread dipped in
wine, she retired to enjoy her well-earned rest.

Orleans was now delivered, as the citizens found on waking the next
morning after the battle, when the joyful news spread through the
town that the English had abandoned the bastilles on the northern side
of the city, leaving all their sick, stores, artillery, and
ammunition. That day Lord Talbot must have used expressions probably
not as poetical as those put into his mouth in the play of _Henry
VI._; but doubtless far more forcible--for it was now that he, for the
first time, felt the bitterness of defeat, the shame of turning his
back on his enemy; that enemy whom, until now, he had, after so many
victories, almost grown to despise.

'My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel;
I know not where I am, nor what I do:
A witch, by fear, not force, like Hannibal,
Drives back our troops, and conquers as she lists.'

But although retire he had to, Talbot's retreat was made in perfect
order, and in a kind of defiant fashion. Ranging his forces near to
and facing the town, he seemed inclined to make a further stand, if
not to carry out an attack against the city. Joan was prepared to
repel such an attack, but the English contented themselves with a mere
feint, a military demonstration.

The day was a Sunday, and Joan, ever loath to fight on that day,
refused to give the signal for attack, saying that if the enemy chose
to begin an engagement they would be met and defeated; but that she
could not sanction fighting on that holy day. Prepared for whatever
might occur, the Maid of Orleans then ordered that Mass should be
said at the head of her troops.

When the religious act was over:

'Look,' she said, 'whether the English have their faces or their backs
turned to us.'

And when she heard that they were in full retreat on Mehun-sur-Loire,
she added, 'Let them depart, in God's name: it is not His wish that
you should attack them to-day, and you will meet them again.'

After an hour's halt, the English continued to retreat, previously
setting fire to their bastilles, and carrying their prisoners with
them.

The day that saw the deliverance of Orleans was held for centuries as
a national day of rejoicing in the town, and seldom have the citizens
of any place had better cause for celebrating so joyful and honourable
an event. The siege which Joan had thus brought to an end began on the
12th of October (1428), and ended on