The Dragon and The Raven: Or The Days of King Alfred

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All night the work continued, and by morning a fortification
much higher than the original tower had been erected
all round the ruin. The Danes again crossed the river in
their ships, and the assault was renewed. Javelins and great
stones were hurled at the fortification, and clouds of arrows
from the shipping fell within them. Covered with portable
roofs constructed of planks the Danes strove to destroy the
wall. The besieged poured upon them a blazing mixture of
oil, wax, and pitch. Numbers of the Danes were burned to
death, while others, maddened by the pain, threw themselves
into the river.

Over and over again Siegfroi led his warriors to the attack,
but the defenders, headed by Eudes and the brave Abbe Ebble,
each time repelled them. The abbe particularly distinguished
himself, and he is reported to have slain seven
Danes at once with one javelin, a blow which may be considered
as bordering on the miraculous. But the number of the
defenders of the tower was small indeed to that of the enemy,
and the loss which they inflicted upon the Danes, great
as it was, was as nothing in so vast a host.

The flames of the machines, lighted by the pitch and
oil, communicated to the planks of the fortification, and soon
these too were on fire. As they burned, the earth behind
them gave way, and a breach was formed. Encouraged by
this result the Danes brought up faggots, and in several places
lighted great fires against the fortifications. The defenders
began to lose all hope, when a tremendous storm of rain
suddenly burst over Paris quenching the fire.

The besieged gained heart, reinforcements crossed from
the town, and the Danes again withdrew to their ships, having
lost in the day's fighting three hundred men. After this
repulse the Northmen desisted for a time from their attack.
They formed a strong fortified camp near the church of St.
Germain, and then spread over the country slaying and burning,
sparing none, man, woman, or child. From the walls of
Paris the smoke could be seen rising over the whole country,
and every heart was moved with rage and sorrow.

Edmund and his party had taken no part in the defence
of the tower. Its loss would not have involved that of the
town, and Eudes requested him to keep his band in reserve
in order that they might remain intact until the Danes should
make a breach in the walls of the city itself, when the sudden
reinforcement of a party of such well-trained warriors might
decide the result.

While a portion of the Danish host were engaged upon
the work of devastation, a large number were employed upon
the construction of three great towers. These were built on
wheels, and were each large enough to hold sixty men. They
far overtopped the walls, and the citizens viewed with alarm
the time when an assault should be delivered under the protection
of these formidable machines. Eighteen ships of equal
size were moored by the bank six deep. Great planks were
laid across them, and a sloping platform having been formed,
the towers were by the efforts of thousands of men moved up
and placed on the ships.

"If we do not destroy those towers, Egbert," Edmund
said one day as he saw them slowly moving into their position
on board the ships, "all is lost, for from their summits
the Northmen with their bows and javelins will be able to
clear the walls, while those below effect a breach at their
leisure."

"That is true enough, Edmund, but I do not see any way
to destroy them. Unfortunately we have no boats, or we might
fill some of them with combustibles, and tow them down
until near enough for the stream to carry them upon those
vessels; but even then the chance were small indeed, for the
Danes would swarm out in their boats and manage to tow or
push them so that they would not touch the ships."

"I should think, Egbert, that if we could get some skins
or planks we and our band might, when it is quite dark, sally
out and take to the water at the lower end of the island and
float down quietly for a mile or two, and then gain the further
bank; then we might march along quietly until we reach
those ships. The Danes know that we have no boats, and will
not fear an attack. We must not do it until an hour or two
before morning, when, after spending the early hours of the
night as usual in feasting and drinking, they will sleep heavily.
Just before we are ready to begin a small party can unmoor
two or three of the boats by the bank and push them out,
one to the outside of each tier of six vessels, so that we may
have a means of retreat across the river. When that is done
we will make a rush on board the ships, cut down any Danes
we may find there, and set fire to all the vessels. We must
hold the gangways to the shore until the flames get well alight,
and then take to the boats and return."

"I think the plan is a good one, Edmund, and may well
be carried out without great loss. There are plenty of empty
wine skins at present in Paris. I will at once set about collecting
a hundred of them. We will fasten to each a stout cord so
as to form a loop to go over the head and shoulders, then we
had best attach them all together by one long cord, by which
means we shall float in a body."

"Fortunately the night is very dark and I think that we
shall succeed. Say nothing about it, Egbert, and tell the men
to keep silent. The good people of Paris shall know nothing
of the matter until they see the flames dancing round the
towers which they hold in so much dread."

The Saxons received with satisfaction the news of the
intended expedition. They had been disappointed at being
kept back from taking any part in the fighting during the
two days' attack upon the tower, and longed for an opportunity
to inflict a blow upon their hated enemy the Danes. The
wine skins were fitted up with ropes as Egbert had suggested,
and soon after nightfall the party, armed with spear and
sword, and carrying each his float, sallied out from the gates,
as Edmund was by this time so well known among the citizens
that the gate was opened without demur on his order.

They crept along the foot of the wall until they reached
the lower extremity of the island. Across the river innumerable
fires blazed high, and the songs and shouts of the Danes
rose loud in the air. Numbers of figures could be seen moving
about or standing near the fires, the tents of the chiefs
were visible some distance back, but the number of these as
well as of the fires was much less than it had been on the first
arrival of the Northmen, owing to the numbers who had gone
to the camp round St. Germain.

The night was very dark and a light rain was falling.
Before taking to the water Edmund bade his men strip off
the greater portion of their clothes and fasten them in a
bundle on their heads, as it would be some time after they
landed before they could advance upon the camp, and the
cold and dripping garments would tend to lessen their spirits
and courage.

When all was ready they stepped into the water, and
keeping in a body, drifted down the stream. The wine skins
floated them well above the water, the stream was running
strong, and the lights of the Danish fires were soon left
behind.

In half an hour Edmund and Egbert deemed that they
were now far beyond a point where they might chance upon
any Danish stragglers. The word was therefore given, and all
made for the bank. The stream had already drifted them in
that direction, and they soon reached the shore. Here the
skins which had proved so useful were left behind, and putting
on their dry clothes, they felt comparatively comfortable.
Edmund ordered them to lay down their spears and swords
by their sides, and to swing their arms violently. This
they continued to do until they were nearly breathless, by
which time the blood was coursing warmly in their veins.

They were now in December, and the water was extremely cold,
and Egbert congratulated Edmund upon having made the men strip,
for had they been compelled to remain in their wet garments
while waiting for the Danish fires to die down, they would
scarce have been in a fit state to fight when the moment
for so doing had arrived.

Three hours elapsed before the glare of the distant fires
began to subside, another half hour passed, and then the
band were formed up and moved along on the bank of the
river.

CHAPTER XIV: THE REPULSE OF THE NORTHMEN

When within half a mile of the Danish camp Edmund and Egbert
left the band and advanced alone. They were pretty confident
that they should find but few of the Danes near the bank
of the river, for the arrows from the walls of Paris carried
some distance beyond it, and the Northmen consequently encamped
some hundred yards away. They had to pick their way carefully,
for the ships were moored along the bank, their ropes being
fastened to great stakes driven into the ground.

There were lights on board the vessels, many of the crews
remaining on board. They made their way along until they
reached the spot they aimed at. Here lay the three sets of
vessels, each six deep; their masts had been removed, and
the great towers rose high into the darkness above the
platforms extending over their decks.

The planks forming the gangways up which the towers
had been moved had been taken away, save one which gave
access to each tier, and Edmund doubted not that it was
intended that they should the next morning move across the
river in tow of the numerous row-boats. The two Saxons did
not attempt to go on board, as they had now found out all
they wanted, and might mar all by disturbing some sleeper
upon the platform. They accordingly returned to the spot
where the band were awaiting them.

"I propose, Egbert," Edmund said, "that as we go along
we cut the mooring-ropes of all the vessels. We must do it
quietly so as not to excite any alarm, and they will know nothing
of it until they find themselves drifting down the river in
a mass. Then there will be great jostling and carrying away
of bowsprits and bulwarks, and the confusion and shouting
which will arise will tend to confuse the Danes and to distract
their attention from us."

Egbert agreed to the proposal, and as soon as they
reached the first ships the Saxons began their work, sawing
with their knives and daggers through the ropes. The vessels
lay four or five deep and there were many cables to cut, but
the keen knives of the Saxons made short work of these.
Before beginning their work they had spread along the bank,
leaving only two men abreast of each ship, so that in the
course of two or three minutes the cables for the length of
forty ships were severed, and these and their consorts beyond
them began to drift out into the stream.

The Saxons ran quickly on ahead and repeated the work
until the whole of the vessels below those forming the platform
for the towers were adrift in the stream; but by this time
those in the ships at the lower end of the tiers had taken the
alarm, and shouts of wonder and anger rose on the air. The
nine Saxons told off for the purpose leaped into three small
boats and rowed out into the stream, while the rest of the
band, divided into three parties, dashed across the planks on
to the platforms. The Danes here had already been alarmed
by the uproar from the vessels adrift, and although unable to
see what was passing judged that something was wrong, and
had called to their comrades sleeping in the holds to come
up.

Some of these bearing torches came up on deck just as
the Saxons, pouring across the planks which connected the
ships with the shore, fell upon them. Taken utterly by surprise,
the Danes could offer no effective resistance. The Saxons,
charging with levelled spears, drove those above headlong
into the water; then, having made themselves masters
of the platforms, they dashed below and despatched the Danes
they found there. The torches were now applied to the contents
of the holds. These were for the most part crammed
with the booty which the Norsemen had gained at Havre,
Rouen, and other places, and the flames speedily shot up.
By this time the Danes in the camp, alarmed by the shouting
from the drifting ships and the sounds of conflict from the
towers, came flocking down in haste. The planks had already
been thrown overboard. The Danes strove by pulling
at the ropes to haul the vessels nearer to land. Some ran
towards their ships, others jumped into boats, and pushing
out to the platforms strove to get on board them; but by this
time the flames were rising high through the hatchways.
According to previous agreement Edmund and the leaders
of the other two parties, seeing that the flames had now firm
hold, cut the ropes which fastened them to the bank, and as
soon as the stream began to swing them out leaped into the
boats and rowed for the opposite shore.

The uproar was now tremendous; and shouts of rage
rose from the Northmen, who were amazed and puzzled by
the appearance of the Saxons, whose attire differed but
slightly from their own; and the general belief among them
was that this sudden alarm was the result of treachery among
themselves. There was no time to waste in conjecture; the
three groups of ships were now masses of flame, in the midst
of which the lofty towers rose high. The shouts of the sailors
in the vessels crowded together in helpless confusion in the
stream below rose higher and higher as the blazing vessels
drifted down and threatened to overtake them.

Some tried to hoist their sails; others got out long oars
and strove to sweep their vessels towards the shore, but they
were huddled too closely in the stream; the yards and rigging
of many having become interlocked with each other. The
Northmen leaped into the rowing boats by the bank above
where the tower-ships had been moored, and rowing down
endeavoured to tow them to the bank; but they were now in a
blaze from end to end, the heat was so great that it was difficult
to approach them, and all endeavours to fasten ropes to
them were frustrated, as these were instantly consumed. The
Northmen, finding their efforts unavailing, then turned their
attention to trying to tow the ships below to the banks.

In some cases they were successful. A few of the vessels
also at the lower end of the mass succeeded in getting up
their sails and drawing out from their fellows, for the wind
was blowing down stream. This, however, proved the destruction
of the rest of the ships, for the great towers rising
amid the lofty pillars of flames acted as sails and bore the
fire-ships down upon the helpless crowd of vessels.

Soon they reached those nearest to them, and the flames,
borne forward by the wind, sprang from vessel to vessel.
There was no longer any hope of saving a single ship; and
the crews, climbing hastily across from one to the other till
they reached those nearest to the shore, leaped overboard.
Although now more than half a mile below the city the flames
lit up the walls with a bright glare, and the shouts of the
exulting Franks rose loud and continuous.

The sudden shouting which had broken out among the
Danes had alarmed the watchmen, who, ignorant of the cause,
called the citizens to arms, and these on reaching the walls
had stood astonished at the spectacle. The flames were already
rising from the three groups of ships which they had
regarded with so much anxiety on the previous evening, and
by the light they could see the river below covered with a
mass of drifting vessels. Then they saw the tower-ships float
away from the bank, and the figures on their decks leap into
three small boats, which at once rowed with all speed across
the river.

That they were friends who had wrought this destruction
was certain, and Count Eudes threw open the gate, and
with the Abbe Ebble ran down to meet them. They were
astonished when Edmund with his Saxons leaped to land.

"What miracle is this?" the count exclaimed.

"A simple matter, Sir Count," Edmund answered. "My
kinsman and I, seeing that the townspeople were troubled by
yonder towers, determined to destroy them. We have succeeded
in doing so, and with them I trust fully half of the
Danish fleet will perish."

"You are the saviour of our town, my brave young Saxon,"
Count Eudes cried, embracing him. "If Paris is saved it will
be thanks to the valiant deed that you have accomplished
this night. But let us to the walls again, where we may the
better see whether the Danes can remove their ships from
those great furnaces which are bearing down upon them."

The sight from the walls, when the fire-ships reached
the fleet and the flames spread, was grand in the extreme,
for in half an hour nigh three hundred vessels were in flames.
For some time the three towers rose like pillars of fire above
the burning mass; then one by one they fell with a crash,
which could be plainly heard, although they were now near a
mile away.

Paris was wild with joy at the destruction of the towers
which had menaced it, and the conflagration of nigh half
the Danish fleet, laden with the spoil of northern France.
Edmund and his Saxons were conducted in triumph by a
shouting crowd to the palace of the archbishop, where Goslin,
in the name of the city, returned them the heartiest thanks
for the services which they had rendered. The wealthy citizens
vied with each other in bestowing costly presents upon
them, bonfires were lighted in the streets, and till morning
the town gave itself up to revelry and rejoicing.

A month elapsed before the Danes recovered from the
blow which had been dealt them and resumed the assault.
Part of this time had been spent in manufacturing great
shields of bull's hide. These were strongly constructed, and
were each capable of covering six men. On the 29th of January
their preparations were complete, and at daybreak the
warders on the wall saw them pouring down into their ships
and galleys. As the fleet crossed the river its aspect was
singular. The decks were covered by the black shields, above
which appeared a forest of spears, sparkling in the morning
sunlight. As they reached the shore the Northmen sprang to
land, while from the decks of the vessels a storm of missiles
flew towards the walls. Vast numbers of catapults, which
they had manufactured since their last attack, hurled masses
of stone, heavy javelins, and leaden bullets, while thousands
of arrows darkened the air.

The bells of the church sounded the alarm, which called
every citizen capable of bearing arms to the walls. The
archbishop took his place at the spot most threatened by the
enemy, with his nephew, the valiant abbe, by his side. The
Counts Eudes, Robert, Ragenaire, Utton, and Herilang stood
foremost among the defenders.

The Saxons, as before, were held in reserve, but to
Edmund and Egbert had been assigned, at their urgent request,
the command of the defence of the tower. It was against
this point that the Danes again made their most desperate
effort. Their main body advanced against it, and smaller
parties attacked the city at other points, while the rowing
galleys, divided into two bodies, strove to destroy the bridge,
and so isolate the defenders of the post.

Around the tower the combat was desperate. The assailants
were well-nigh hidden under their great bucklers.
Their shouts, and the constant clashing of arms which they
maintained, made a terrific uproar; a storm of missiles from
the fleet poured upon the tower, while from the crevices
between the shields the bowmen shot incessantly at the defenders.
The very number of the Danes hindered their attack, for the
tower was so small that comparatively few could approach at once.

It had been greatly strengthened since the last assault,
and through the loopholes in the walls the archers did their
best to answer the storm of missiles poured into the fort.
Edmund and Egbert went among them, begging them not to
fire at random, but to choose moments when the movements
of the assailants opened a space in the roof of shields which
covered them.

Whenever this took place a dozen arrows fell true to the
mark. Some of those bearing the shield would be struck,
and these falling, a gap would be caused through which the
arrows of the defenders flew thickly, causing death and confusion
until the shield could be raised in its place again.
Boiling liquids were poured over those who approached the
walls, and huge stones crushed the shields and their bearers.

Eudes and his men valiantly defended the wall, and the
Danes in vain strove to scale it. All day long the battle
continued, but at nightfall the tower still remained in the hands
of the defenders, the deep ditch which they had dug round it
having prevented the Danes from working at the wall, as they
had done in the previous assault.

When darkness came on the Danes did not retire, but
lay down in the positions they occupied, under their shields.
In the morning many ships were seen crossing the river again,
and the defenders saw to their surprise numbers of captives
who had been collected from the surrounding country, troops
of oxen, ship-loads of branches of trees, trusses of hay and
corn, and faggots of vines landed. Their surprise became
horror when they saw the captives and the cattle alike
slaughtered as they landed. Their bodies were brought forward
under cover of the shields and thrown into the moat, in which,
too, were cast the hay, straw, faggots, and trees.

At the sight of the massacre the archbishop prayed to
the Virgin to give him strength, and drawing a bow to its full
strength, let fly an arrow, which, great as was the distance,
flew true to its mark and struck the executioner full in the
face. This apparent miracle of the Virgin in their favour
re-animated the spirit of the defenders; and a solemn service
was instantly held in the church in her honour, and prayers
were offered to her to save Lutece, which was the original
name of Paris, and was still cherished by its inhabitants.

The Danes were occupied all day at their work of filling
up the moat. The besieged were not idle, but laboured at the
construction of several mangonels capable of casting huge
blocks of stone. In the morning the Danes planted their
battering-rams, one on each side of the tower, and recommenced
the assault. The new machines of the defenders did great
havoc in their ranks, their heavy stones crashing through the
roof of bucklers and crushing those who held them, and for
a time the Norsemen desisted from the attack.

They now filled three of their largest vessels with
combustibles, and placing them on the windward side of the
bridge, set them alight. The people of Paris beheld with
afright these fire-ships bearing down upon the bridge, and
old and young burst into tears and cries at the view of the
approaching destruction, and, led by the archbishop, all
joined in a prayer to St. Germain, the patron saint of Paris,
to protect the city. The exulting Danes replied to the cries of
those on the walls with triumphant shouts. Thanks, as the
Franks believed, to the interposition of St. Germain, the
fireships struck against the pile of stones from which the beams
supporting the bridge in the centre were raised. Eudes and
his companions leaped down from the bridge and with hatchets
hewed holes in the sides of the ships at the water-line,
and they sank without having effected any damage to the
bridge.

It was now the turn of the Franks to raise triumphant
shouts, while the Danes, disheartened, fell back from the attack,
and at night recrossed the river, leaving two of their
battering-rams as tokens of the triumph of the besieged. Paris
had now a respite while the Danes again spread over the
surrounding country, many of them ascending the river in their
ships and wasting the country as far as Burgundy.

The monastery of St. Germain and the church in which
the body of the saint was buried still remained untouched.
The bands of Northmen who had invaded England had never
hesitated to plunder and destroy the churches and shrines of
the Christians, but hitherto some thought of superstition had
kept the followers of Siegfroi from assailing the monastery
of St. Germain.

One soldier, bolder than the rest, now approached the
church and with his spear broke some of the windows. The
Abbe D'Abbon, an eye-witness and minute historian of the
siege of Paris, states that the impious Dane was at once struck
dead. The same fate befell one of his comrades, who mounted
to the platform at the top of the church and in descending
fell off and was killed. A third who entered the church and
looked round lost his sight for ever. A fourth entering it fell
dead; and a fifth, who, more bold than all, tried to break into
the tomb of the saint, was killed by a stone which fell upon
him.

One night after a continuance of heavy rain the Seine,
being greatly swollen, swept away the centre of the bridge
connecting the tower with the town. At daybreak the
Northmen, seeing what had taken place, hastened across the
river and attacked the tower. The garrison was but a small
one, no more than twenty men having slept there. For a
time these repulsed every effort of the Danes, but gradually
their numbers were lessened until at last fourteen only remained.
Their names have come down to us. Besides Edmund and Egbert
there were Hermanfroi, Herivee, Herilard, Odoacre,
Herric, Arnold, Sohie, Gerbert, Elvidon, Havderad, Ermard,
and Gossuin. These resisted so valiantly that the Danes,
after losing large numbers in the vain attempt to storm
the walls, brought up a wagonful of grain; this they
rolled forward to the gate of the tower and set it on fire.

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