THE FIRST SIEGE.

Thirty years after the event just related, the valley of Avon still preserved its smiling aspect and was covered with rustic habitations; there might be seen, however, in front of and behind the bridge just mentioned, two groups of houses in pretty close proximity: the first in the direction of the valley, the second on the lower slopes of the plateau. A considerable number of boats were moored on the two banks below the bridge, and were receiving or discharging packages covered with wrappers made of rushes. On the top of the promontory was seen the outline of a rampart made of stone, wood, and earth, but with square towers composed in great part of timber and wattle-work, about a hundred paces apart. Outside the inclosure rose palisades of no great height, in front of a ditch six feet wide by three or four feet deep. The entrances to the Oppidum, which still occupied the place previously indicated, were amply environed outside by stakes connected by branches of trees. At the lower end of the two sunk roads were raised besides two towers of timber and wattle-work.

Grave events had been the cause of these changes.

The meeting announced in the preceding chapter had taken place on the plateau. The uproar and confusion that prevailed threatened a sanguinary conclusion. The warriors insisted on adhering to the programme sketched by the handsome Sigild, and on reserving to themselves the privilege of guarding the camp.

The chiefs of the tribes would not agree to this. The Ovates, the wisest among the Druids, had been consulted. But their responses, of a somewhat ambiguous character, did not satisfy the multitude.

The latter (the Ovates) declared in the first place, that the NÉmÈde could not be touched without drawing down the gravest calamities upon the tribes; that the flocks belonging to the college must be allowed to graze undisturbed on the plateau; and that if any peril threatened the inhabitants of the valley, they, the Druids, would be able to give timely warning to the defenders. During this deliverance the handsome Sigild wore his accustomed smile and suavely shook his head in his usual manner, but said not a word. The Druidesses, seated along the inclosure of the NÉmÈde, their hands on their knees in a musing attitude, appeared to take no part in the discussion. The men were divided into groups, and it seemed as if no decision would be arrived at before sunset. Hunger and thirst began to be keenly felt, and the women were spreading on the turf the provisions they had brought. At this juncture one of the Druidesses, at the solicitation of her companions, advanced into the midst of the assembly. She was young, tall, and dressed in a long white robe—a kind of dalmatic without a girdle; and her bare arms were adorned with bracelets of black glass. On seeing her every voice was hushed, and surrounded by her companions, who had followed her, she spoke thus:—

"You who are assembled here, who live in peace, thinking you have no enemy to fear, are unable calmly to deliberate and adopt a wise resolution. How will it be when the enemy is upon you? And I warn you that such an enemy is near; he is preparing his arms and reckoning his spoils in the pillage of your flocks and the plunder of your houses; indeed he is already rejoicing in a victory which he deems certain because he knows you are not in a condition to act in concert to resist him.

"Abandon this place, which you are incapable of defending, since you know not how to fortify it; return to your houses, and await in careless ease the hour of peril." Around the young woman, pale with emotion, and who spoke without a gesture or a movement, as if the words she was slowly pronouncing had issued from a statue, the multitude had assembled in a compact mass. A tremulous agitation ran through the crowd like the breeze through the corn. Then, by one of those instinctive movements which sway the multitude, all eyes were turned towards Sigild. The latter, standing in front of the Druidess, who had remained rigid as a statue on the stone that served her as a tribune, had his eyes fixed on the ground contrary to his usual custom, as if he could not endure the fire of all these glances directed towards him.

Through the murmurs of the crowd the name of Sigild could be vaguely distinguished. "Let Sigild be our Brenn!" said a voice. Immediately thousands of voices repeated, "Let Sigild be our Brenn!" It seemed then as if all those who a few minutes before were of opinions widely contrary had but a single thought, a single soul, a single voice.

Sigild was therefore proclaimed Brenn, and the night passed in joyous festivities.

Whether the young Druidess had been informed of the projects formed against the happy inhabitants of the valley of Avon, or whether inspiration or chance had led to the coincidence, only a few months had passed since the meeting in question, when they observed certain strangers roaming about the hills, who speedily disappeared when the inhabitants began to question them; and subsequently a larger number of merchants than was customary, arrived in the valley. They were insolent, endeavoured to embroil themselves with the inhabitants, and uttered menaces when their assumptions were met by reason; and several of them who were expelled from the country threatened to return and avenge themselves.

One day, in fact, the heights that surrounded the valley appeared occupied one after the other by troops of armed men.

Meanwhile Sigild, elected Brenn, had lost no time. He had first assembled around him all his old companions in arms; and many young men who preferred a life of war to the peaceful pursuits of the shepherd or the husbandman had also joined him.

The new Brenn had gold, and on occasions would pay men to work at the Oppidum. Full of respect and deference for the Druids, he had embellished the NÉmÈde; and seemed to engage in no undertaking till he had consulted the Ovates. He gave them the produce of his hunting expeditions, and had caused a decree to be made that the fishery above the bridge should be reserved for the college.

The camp was assuming day by day a more formidable aspect, but the Brenn and his men, with the college of the Druids, were the only persons entitled to sojourn there. As on former occasions, every man of the valley was obliged to devote one day in four to the work of fortification; moreover, the inhabitants of the Val d'Avon supplied the warriors with provisions. They were, however, beginning to murmur, and to complain of the exactions of the latter; and things would probably have not long continued on this footing, when the threatened enemy appeared.

The sound of trumpets was immediately heard in the camp: it was the signal agreed upon; and the unfortunate families of the valley might be seen rushing in disorder towards the bridge, driving their cattle before them, and carrying with them on their backs or in waggons their most valued property, with provisions, clothes, and even furniture. The bridge not being wide enough for the passage of the distracted multitude who were thronging towards it, boats were heavily laden with people, and many foundered.

The armed bands that had appeared on the hills, whether as a matter of prudence or because they were waiting for the command to advance, made no haste to descend into the valley, and night came without a single enemy having quitted his post of observation.

This night was a painful one for the inhabitants of the valley. It was autumn, and the cold was already beginning to be felt. They were arriving breathless in the camp, covered with sweat; the sharp air of the night was freezing their limbs. They were calling to or searching for each other in the crowd, and although space was not wanting, it seemed as if this multitude would never succeed in housing itself on the plateau. Fires were being lighted, and the warriors, Sigild's companions, were hastening to and fro on horseback among the distracted crowd, endeavouring to make themselves heard and to introduce a little order into this confusion; for each tribe had had its quarters traced out for it by the wise foresight of the Brenn. But those who had arrived first at any spot were loath to quit it and take up their baggage again to carry it elsewhere. The animals were lowing or bleating, the children were crying, and the women lamenting. The valley presented a quite different spectacle; animated the night before, lighted up by the household fires that sparkled through the trees, and filled with the sounds of evening, it was now silent and deserted; not a light nor the least appearance of life could be distinguished. A pale fog was diffused over the meadows. At nightfall Sigild ordered the barriers of the camp to be closed, prohibiting, on pain of death, their being opened to any person whatever. Thus many belated families had to await the return of day below the ramparts.

With smiling countenance the Brenn was leisurely traversing on horseback the various quarters of the camp: he was addressing all he met, and his gentle, penetrating voice seemed to restore order and silence wherever it was heard. His words and counsels, and the fatigue that was taking possession of the crowd, had soon caused an appearance of calm to succeed the confusion that prevailed at first. Then the Brenn re-entered the hut he had caused to be constructed for himself on the projecting summit of the promontory, in front of the NÉmÈde, and summoned Tomar into his presence.

Tomar was one of the stranger warriors whom Sigild had kept near him after the meeting above mentioned. Had these foreign warriors been forced to quit their native regions in consequence of the devastation of their estates and the ruin of their families, as the Brenn had affirmed; or had they been banished by their countrymen for certain misdeeds? We cannot say. Certain it is that they were devoted body and soul to Sigild, who on his part was in a position liberally to reward their devotion. Tomar was of medium height, and his large head, on a short neck bristling with harsh, thick hair, seemed to move with difficulty. His face also preserved a kind of immobility; and but for his grey eyes, which, under his bushy eyebrows, seemed to penetrate in every direction, the man might have been taken for a rough-hewn image of wood. With curved back, long arms, always falling down by the side of his body, and legs heavy and bent, Tomar could nevertheless perform a march of twelve hours in succession without turning his head. Yet at the end of the journey this automaton-like being had seen all that was visible through the whole route, and could give an account of what he had observed with the most minute exactness and in the most perfect sequence. He could speak many Gallic dialects, but no one—not even Sigild—knew his past history. Tomar rarely laughed. A travelling merchant had brought an ape into the valley; and witnessing the grimaces of this specimen of the quadrumana, Tomar burst into a fit of laughter. It was almost the only time that he had permitted himself such an ebullition, and if any one wanted to provoke anything like a smile upon his rigid countenance, he must mention the ape.

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Sigild and Tomar.

As his manner was, Tomar entered the Brenn's hut as noiselessly as a cat, and placing himself before Sigild said, "Here I am!" "Tomar, I rely upon thy aid." "Yes." "Thou wilt go out of the camp without a single person—mind, a single person—suspecting thy departure." "Yes." "Thou wilt go to the border of the Sequani; thou understandest? Thou wilt speak to Ditovix; thou understandest?" "Yes." "Thou wilt ask him for five hundred warriors who have nothing to lose." "Yes." "Thou wilt tell him that these warriors will find here lands and wealth." "Yes." "Thou wilt conduct them through the forests, getting all the information thou canst." "Yes." "Thou wilt require three days to go; one day to arrange matters with Ditovix; to assemble the five hundred warriors, six days; to bring them here, four days; altogether fourteen days. The evening of the fourteenth, dating from to-morrow morning, thou and the five hundred warriors will be at a distance of three miles from the camp, towards the north, in the woods. At sunset thou wilt place a pole at the top of one of the highest trees; when the first quarter of the night has expired thou will hoist a lighted faggot on the summit of the pole. Thy warriors will be under arms, and you will immediately rush upon the enemies between us and you. We shall make a sally at the same time, and fall upon them." "The enemies will be there?" "The enemies are sure to be there, because if they wish to besiege the camp they cannot take up any other position. They are sure to be there." "Very well, I set out." "Listen! if you meet any parties of the enemy, say that you have been wronged by us, and that you are seeking vengeance, knowing that we are on the point of yielding to them. They will either accept or refuse your co-operation. If they accept it, the warriors of Ditovix will occupy a part of the enemy's camp, and at the signal agreed on will spread confusion on all sides, while we make a sortie from the ramparts, and fall upon them; if they refuse it, you will pretend to be greatly irritated, but will affect to retire, and at the close of the day you will return to the place mentioned." "But if the enemy occupy that spot?" "They will not occupy it, because we shall compel them to concentrate their forces around us. Stop, here is gold, and a ring well known to Ditovix. Listen further. During the attack, as it will be at midnight, the warriors thou bringest and our men, not being acquainted with each other, might engage in mutual slaughter. Before the battle let each of thy men put on a necklace of grass, and set fire to everything that can burn. That will be easy; the enemy will make himself a shelter with branches: we shall wear necklaces like yours, and will light fires on our side. Next, when making the attack, let all thy men shout 'Sigild!' Ours will answer with the same cry. To ensure the lighting of the fires, take burning embers in earthen vessels; let there be at least one of these to every five men. If the enemy accept your aid, keep as much as possible in separate quarters, so that it will not be difficult for you to make your grass necklaces, and you will have your lighted fires to use, while you will also avail yourselves of the fire made by the enemy. But if through distrust they separate you into small parties, arrange beforehand your signals of attack, and instead of grass necklaces, have the right leg bare.... Fourteen days!" "I understand."

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Fig. 6.

Sigild had surrounded the camp with a number of wooden towers placed on the old rampart, which had been strengthened. These towers, whose appearance is shown in Fig. 6, were made of trunks of trees piled one upon another, and framed at their extremities. They projected from the rampart. At their summit was constructed a wooden floor surrounded by a parapet of wattling; and this floor was reached by means of a ladder placed inside the tower. The under story gave shelter to the men charged with the defence of the towers, and who watched from the top. If they perceived any suspicious movement without, it was their duty to give the alarm by blowing a horn. Sigild had fixed the number of men for each tower at twenty. Two of these twenty men remained day and night on the platform, the day and the night being each divided into four parts; there were eight men on duty during the day and eight during the night. Of the four remaining, the first was constituted chief of the tower; the second was intrusted with the stores, and the distribution of food and munitions; the third was to be at the disposal of the chief of the tower, to carry messages and seek for help in case of need; and the business of the fourth was to repair the injuries caused to the defences in the event of an attack.

As the circumvallation measured four thousand five hundred paces, and the towers were one hundred paces apart, there were forty-five towers, including the stronger and loftier ones placed on the two sides of the entrances. Nine hundred men sufficed to guard them. Sigild had taken the precaution of having a store of timber and branches brought within the inclosure of the Oppidum. By his care the wells had been deepened, and a trench dug outside the ramparts, towards the north. In addition to the flocks that habitually grazed within the camp, a great number of cattle had been brought by the fugitives to the plateau. But it would not have been possible to feed all these animals if stores of fodder had not been laid in beforehand. Accordingly, great stacks of grass had been placed along beside the rampart, thatched with reeds.

Between the towers the guarding of the ramparts was intrusted to a thousand men, put under the order of fifty-three chiefs; the two entrances were under the command of warriors of tried courage, and well known to Sigild.

This garrison, consisting of about two thousand men, had long been settled in the camp, and had partly executed the work of its fortification. As to the fugitives, they might have amounted to twelve thousand; and out of this number two thousand at least were able to fight, were provided with arms, and had been habituated to endurance.

In place of the original huts, which had fallen to decay, Sigild had formed a kind of halles, or vast sheds. There were eight of these sheds; one for every tribe. In front of each were disposed, at regular distances, circular fire-places, formed with flat stones, and intended for cooking. As soon as the sun appeared above the horizon a confused sound of voices succeeded to the silence which had gradually fallen upon the plateau. But Sigild had not lost time during the night. Orders had been given to his trusty followers; eight mounted chiefs, followed by armed men, went among the multitude of fugitives, and pointed out to each tribe the locality that had been assigned it. Whether through lassitude, or from a sense of danger, the multitude obeyed, and towards the middle of the day the camp had ceased to present the appearance of disorder it exhibited the evening before. Around the sheds, which were insufficient for such a number of families, might be seen men making huts with branches. The larger animals were fastened to stakes, and browsed on the grass which had not been too much trodden; the sheep were folded, and the women were preparing the day's repast; in every quarter the children were running about, and seemed to enjoy this new life. As to the warriors, they silently kept watch on the ramparts and the towers.

In the morning the valley was filled with a thick mist, and the hills were visible on either side above it; upon their ridges was no sign of the enemy, and from the white vapour which hid the valley, not a sound issued. Had the enemy withdrawn? Was it a false alarm?

From the camp the course of the river was scarcely distinguishable beneath the thick cloud of mist which covered it. Towards the end of the first quarter of the day Sigild sent out a detachment of a hundred men, with orders to explore the bridge and the banks of the river and rivulet. If no enemy appeared they were to follow the course of the latter and to reconnoitre towards the north; they were to avoid engaging with the enemy. Ten men were to remain upon the bridge to collect brushwood, and set fire to it the moment they saw the enemy in the valley. Gradually the fog dispersed, and at noon the sun shone out in all its splendour through the whole extent of the valley. Nothing broke the silence, the air was still, and in the distance, cattle that had been forgotten were seen quietly grazing. Many of the fugitives wished to leave the camp and return to their houses, with a view to remaining there, or to fetch articles which they had been unable to bring away. Sigild doubled the posts at the gates, with orders not to let any one go out. He went from one to another, trying to make the people understand that the enemy, far from withdrawing, was only waiting an occasion to seize the unwary who attempted to return to their homes. "They are in ambush," he urged; "they hope that you will relapse into security and will become their prey without a struggle; for though they covet your goods, they are still more anxious to get possession of your persons: they will carry you off to sell you, your wives and your children, as slaves among the nations beyond the mountains." Despite this warning, however, a great number were crowding towards the points of exit, and the armed men had hard work to keep the multitude back, when there arrived at the eastern entrance fifty of the warriors sent by Sigild to reconnoitre. They were covered with mud and sweat. When interrogated by the Brenn, they said that about three thousand paces from the camp, towards the north, among the woods, and although they were proceeding cautiously, they saw themselves all at once surrounded by the enemy: that many of them had been killed or captured; that they owed their escape only to their knowledge of the neighbourhood, and that they effected it by rushing into a narrow ravine filled with underwood and decayed trunks of trees, and leading down to the rivulet, not far from the camp. "Your chief is killed?" said the Brenn. "We do not know." "You left him behind you!" "We had orders to avoid any engagement." "You have not abandoned your arms?" "We have our arms." "Go and take rest." In an instant the entrances were clear, and the crowd returned in silence to its camping grounds.

Sigild then went to the northern end of the camp; he looked long through the depths of the forest; then he summoned to this front five hundred armed men from the tribes, besides those who were at their post; he stationed them behind the parapet, and ordered them to keep silence. He went into each of the towers raised on that side, and spoke in a low voice to each of the chiefs. Then all at once a shout arose from the southern side of the plateau. The Brenn mounted his horse and rode off hastily in that direction; but on his way he was told that the bridge was on fire, and that the ten warriors stationed there were coming in by the western gate.

"You have seen the enemy?" said Sigild, when the ten warriors made their appearance. "We have seen them: they were advancing in a strong body towards the bridge, endeavouring to screen themselves behind the reeds and willows." Then Sigild selected a hundred men from among his best warriors, and posted them on the slopes of the plateau outside the western gate, ordering them to pile up underwood and trunks of trees in the sunken road, to keep behind on the banks, and not use their bows and slings till they saw the enemy near the barricade; and if they attempted an assault on this point in a considerable body, to retire within and occupy the ramparts, helping those intrusted with their defence. In reality, however, the Brenn did not anticipate any serious attack on that side, which was difficult of approach. He thought the enemy would not attempt an assault with a river at their back, even should they succeed in crossing it. His attention was once more directed to the north. On this side, in fact, the camp is separated only by a slight hollow from the adjacent plateau, which widens and affords space for the gathering of a large number of troops, and a secure retreat in case of failure. He had also ascertained that the enemy already occupied the wide, forest-covered plateau.

Sigild again rode through the whole length of the camp at a walking pace, uttering here and there words of encouragement whenever he encountered looks of alarm. His calmness, his frank and agreeable expression, reassured the most timid. Night fell by the time he reached the ramparts on the northern side. Silence still reigned in the woods. When it was quite dark, some boys were let down by his orders over the parapet, loaded with bundles of straw and dry grass; their instructions were to untie these bundles in the ditch sunk at this point at the foot of the escarpment. Then with the help of poles held down to them the children climbed back again. Sigild allowed only a few small fires to be lighted, screened by the height of the rampart, and all awaited the issue. The Brenn walked about conversing in a low voice with some of his trusty men, and the warriors standing around the smouldering fires, which threw a red glare upon them, exchanged only a few low and hurried words. Now and then a laugh escaped, but it was immediately stifled. The guard of the rampart had orders to keep a good look out, and if they perceived the enemy, to raise no cry. They were to give the alarm only by throwing clods of turf on the fires. They were not to show their heads above the wattle parapet. The night was clear, but there was no moon.

At the middle of the first quarter of the night one of the chiefs came down from the rampart walk and approached the Brenn.

"The enemy are coming," said he.

"What proof hast thou?"

"I heard the cracking of dead branches." Sigild ascended the rampart surrounded by several warriors. "To your posts!" he said, in a low voice. That very moment some clods of earth fell upon the fires, scattering a shower of sparks.

Sigild and the watchmen had observed certain forms of a whitish appearance that seemed to be creeping towards the counterscarp. Some of them let themselves down into the ditch, and pushing one another up scaled the escarpment; they succeeded in reaching the wattling. Hearing no sound inside, they turned round and helped up others. When about fifty were at the top of the escarpment, poles were handed to them furnished with hooks, which they fixed into the wattling: then those who had remained on the counterscarp pulled the poles with all their force.

The wattling gave way, and the assailants rushed on to the rampart walk. Thrust back by the swords of the defenders, the greater number rolled down to the bottom of the fosse. Then, in accordance with the orders of the Brenn, flaming brands were thrown among the straw placed at the bottom of the ditch; it took fire, and, spreading a bright light, brought into view a broad front of enemies. From the summits of the towers the slings and bows discharged a shower of stones and arrows upon them. Many of the defenders were preparing to cross the debris of the wattling and get down the escarpment to throw themselves upon the enemy, but the Brenn stopped them, threatening with death any who should quit the rampart. The surprise had failed, and the ranks of the enemy wavered and retired out of range of the missiles.

The Brenn, however, caused the wattling to be repaired as far as circumstances allowed, and doubled the ranks of the defenders on the rampart, as well to present a firm front to the assailants as to hold back the men of the foremost rank whom the enemy should seek to pull down into the ditch. Besides this, he formed between each tower small bodies of twenty men, who were to hasten to the weak points and to hurl down any of the assailants who should gain a footing on the rampart. Then he sent some of his trusty men on horseback to the eastern and western fronts, to convey intelligence, or to give warning in the event of attacks being made on several points at once.

Scarcely were these measures taken when the enemy were seen returning in considerable strength to the ditch; with loud cries they rushed up the escarpment. They were warmly received, and the ditch was being filled with the dead and wounded, facilitating the passage of those who followed, especially as many bore fascines. After two attempts the assailants gained a footing on one of the ramparts; but the reserve bodies attacked them in front, while the men from the towers issuing right and left took them in flank.

Whether the lighted straw had not been quite extinguished, or the besieged had thrown more burning brands into the ditch, some fascines took fire, burning the wounded, who uttered the most dreadful cries.

The attack languished, and at length the leaders of the besieging host gave the signal for retreat.

A certain number of the assailants had remained alive in the power of the besieged, and Sigild gave orders that they should be guarded and not put to death. As to the wounded lying within the ramparts, they were killed.

Towards the middle of the night fires were seen to be lighted in the woods, about a thousand paces from the camp. The besieged had lost a few men only, but the ditch was filled with the enemy's dead and wounded. The groans of the latter were the only interruption to the quiet of the night.

Sigild slept not; he kept half the warriors on vigorous guard during the third quarter of the night, and the other half during the last quarter.

Those who were not on guard slept around the fires. The Brenn, when the assault was over, had sent messengers to the chiefs of the eight tribes to acquaint them with the happy result of this first engagement.

At break of day the Brenn had the prisoners brought before him. Two or three of them spoke the language of the valley, but with a foreign accent.

Clothed in drawers laced around, and a tunic of undyed wool, with a broad strap which served them for a girdle, they looked not unlike some of those merchants who occasionally came into the valley to barter yellow amber and bronze for corn, cheese, tanned hides, and wool. "Why do you come to attack us?" said Sigild. "We have been driven from the lands we have inhabited from the most ancient times, by hordes from the north. These men have killed many of us, taken away our wives, and murdered our children: the stronger among us have combined together, and crossing a wide river on rafts, we have travelled onwards towards the setting sun, seeking a home. Two days' journey from this spot we were told that this country is good and can afford sustenance to many; so we have come hither.

"When our chiefs saw that you shut yourselves up in this place, regarding us as enemies, they told us we must first make ourselves masters of the camp. We obeyed. We are only doing to you what has been done to us." "Why not have sent some of your number to ask of us what you required?" "I do not know." "You have come as enemies, and as enemies we have received you. How many are you?" "A great many." "Go seek your chiefs and tell them that if by nightfall their entire host have not quitted the land of Avon, the captives we have made here shall suffer." "I will not go." "Why?" "Because our chiefs will not leave this land. Put us to death; for if any of your party have fallen into the hands of our men, they are doomed to death to avenge our comrades killed this night." "Good." Sigild ordered that the captives should be fettered till he had decided on their fate.

The Brenn was very anxious that the enemy should take up a position towards the north, opposite to the weak point of the Oppidum. Accordingly he was continually reconnoitring on the eastern and western fronts as far as the river and the other side of the rivulet, to prevent the besiegers from establishing themselves in either quarter. Upon the steep sides of the plateau, opposite the burnt bridge, Sigild had placed a small camp guarded by two hundred men. The reconnoitring parties, which he sent out in large numbers, had orders to bring back into the camp all the fodder and strayed cattle they could find, engaging the enemy only when they encountered them in small bodies.

But the invaders did not seem to be contemplating another assault. They took up their quarters in the woods to the north and on the slopes of the hills, right and left, leaving between them and the camp the river and the rivulet; marauding parties might also be seen in the valley, foraging, and pillaging the deserted dwellings. On the other side of the destroyed bridge they formed a wide palisading strengthened by barricading of timber; and two days afterwards they had constructed a floating bridge on the river, formed with trunks of trees fastened together and kept in place by a kind of dam made with piles of timber fixed in the bed of the river and inclined up the stream.

It was evident that the besiegers were in no hurry; that they were living upon the provisions left in the valley; and that it was their intention to reduce the besieged by famine.

In fact the inhabitants of the Val d'Avon had been able to carry with them only a small quantity of provisions. They had their cattle, but these being badly fed and crowded together were dying in great numbers; the cows ceased to give milk, and the store of forage was rapidly diminishing.

On the sixth day of the investment, the chiefs of the tribes proposed to the Brenn to cut their way through the enemy's lines while their men still preserved their strength entire, and not to wait till the utter failure of provisions should place them at the mercy of the invaders. Of course the Brenn opposed this proposition, declaring that the day of deliverance would come, and that they must have patience. Nevertheless it was of great consequence to him that the enemy should concentrate his forces on the northern side. Accordingly, one evening at nightfall, he collected two bodies of men, one at the eastern, the other at the western gate. He had observed that the enemy used to prepare their morning meal just before noon, and that of the evening at sunset. After the evening repast they were heard singing and shouting.

When the opportune moment arrived he divided each of his bodies into two. The first two halves were to march along the ramparts parallel to one another till they reached the woods; there they were to rush on the two flanks of the besiegers' outposts; they were not to prolong the attack, but to fall back with all speed to the northern salient of the Oppidum. An issue would be open at this point. In the meantime, the two other halves would unite, provided with stakes, before this salient, where, with the aid of palisading, they would make an advanced work (Fig. 7) and then fall back one hundred paces to the right and left.

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Fig. 7.

The men who guarded the north front had orders to cut an opening in the rampart twenty paces wide, and to throw fascines and clods of turf into the ditch, and have wattles ready to close the opening instantly.

The first two detachments, therefore, set out in silence; that on the western side left a little before the one on the east, so as to arrive at the same time on the enemy's flank. The two other detachments preceded them, and stationing themselves at the northern extremity of the Oppidum, drove in their stakes according to the instructions given, and then fell back to right and left. A fine autumnal rain was falling, and the ground was slippery. Some time elapsed before the two detachments found themselves in sight of the enemy's camp. The besiegers had no outposts; but their army encamped in front of the Oppidum, and at a distance of about six hundred paces from it, was intrenched behind barricades of timber; the intrenchment presented an extended front. Their men might be seen around the fires, talking loudly, singing, and drinking cider and mead, of which they had found abundance in the houses of the valley. An attack on this front was not to be thought of; they must get round it. So the two detachments separated farther and farther from each other, and advanced with the greatest difficulty along the bogs and under the woods in momentary fear of being seen by the enemy. At length the one which was manoeuvring on the right reached the end of the front, got under cover, and awaited the signal, which was to be given by the one on the left by the blowing of a horn; for the Brenn had calculated that the former would reach the extremity of the front before the latter.

The time, however, was getting on, and Sigild, who had advanced with several warriors on horseback along the verge of the wood, still heard nothing. He sent two of his warriors to ascertain where the two detachments were; they had great difficulty in making their way through the wood, while the enemy's fires, which they saw in the distance through the trees, only added to their difficulties, by preventing them from seeing the ground they were riding over. The right front of the enemy towards the river formed a lengthened curve, and the left detachment kept advancing parallel with the front without finding a point of attack.

Midnight had passed when this detachment found itself at last before an opening left in the barricade, but this opening formed an interior angle, which rendered the attack very hazardous. The detachment waited until all was silent in the camp. The fires, fed only at irregular intervals, cast here and there a fluctuating light, and fewer shadows were passing before the braziers.

One of the warriors sent by Sigild was approaching; he considered that the attack on this point should not be deferred, and that the enemy must be surprised during his first sleep.

One of the men gave the signal agreed upon, and the troops rushed through the opening, slaying all before them with terrific shouts, scattering the fires and forming in triangle, so as to prevent the enemy from getting round them. They did not proceed very far, for at the cries of the assailants and of the wounded, men were seen to rise up on every side and hasten towards the point of attack. The little troop then closed, and ceasing to advance, turned and fled back towards the Oppidum, following the verge of the wood along the steep banks of the river. A long-continued shout was then heard on the enemy's left; the attack had begun on that side also.

Whether the enemy, which had started in pursuit of the left detachment, had succeeded in getting round it, or whether the detachment itself lost its way in the darkness, it was unable to regain the plateau in time, and continued to follow the course of the river.

As to the troop detached on the right, being less distant from the Oppidum, directly it found itself pressed by a numerous body of the enemy, it retired in good order, and went direct to the angle of the intrenchments, as had been arranged, hotly pursued by the crowd of besiegers. At the same time most of the enemy's forces that had started in pursuit of the left detachment were coming on the ground.

The Brenn had anticipated the contingency of the attack which he had arranged not succeeding in every point. Despite the darkness, he saw that his people were not in advance, as they ought to have been, of the hostile warriors who were making their appearance on his left; he therefore quickly retired within the outwork of stakes which had been formed by his orders, and commanded the straw fires to be lighted.

The two detachments in ambuscade to the right and left outside the rampart had orders to refrain from attack till a signal agreed upon had been given. At the barrier of stakes, then, there arrived at the same time the right detachment in flight, that portion of the enemy who were in close pursuit of them, and those who were looking for the errant left detachment.

A great number entered pell-mell into the triangular space formed by the stakes. It became the scene of an indescribable mÊlÉe; those who were defending the wattling which closed the breach dared not make any openings for their brethren-in-arms whom they saw engaged with the enemy. The Brenn struck into the midst of the crowd trying to rally his men. He succeeded in cutting his way up to the wattling, against which he leaned his back; and the warriors of the right detachment being encouraged by his example, presented a head to the enemy, whose numbers, however, continually augmented. A few minutes more and they would have been swept down by the multitude of the assailants; the last comers were urging on those in front of them, and the wattling and the warriors who defended it would have been borne down by the tide. The Brenn, with his long sword, was making a circle of dead and wounded around him. Then shouting over the parapet to give the signal, the sound of trumpets arose above the yells of the combatants. The enemy seemed to hesitate for a moment; then, closing into a compact body, they rushed upon the barricade, which gave way as if swept by a torrent.

At the same instant loud shouts were heard on each of the enemy's flanks; the two troops in ambuscade attacked the confused column outside the rampart....

The combat did not cease until daybreak. Those of the enemies who had succeeded in penetrating into the Oppidum were killed or captured. The triangle of broken stakes was strewn in every direction with the dead. The enemy, disconcerted by the two simultaneous flank attacks, and finding himself cut in two, was no longer able in the darkness to concert an assault, and retired. Nevertheless, those who had been taken in the outwork and at the gap of the Oppidum fought obstinately to the last, and the captives who were driven before the Brenn were all more less severely wounded.

Sigild was covered with blood and dirt; his great black horse had been killed in the last mÊlÉe, and he himself had been trampled on.

He ascended the nearest tower, and saw that the enemy remained not far off; they were forming a contravallation of barricading three hundred paces from the Oppidum. Their attitude was threatening, and it was to be feared that they meditated another attack. The Brenn, therefore, had the gap immediately repaired and the parapet strengthened with strong stakes about two feet apart. Besides this, he sunk a second ditch with intrenchment in a concave line, within the northern salient of the Oppidum. This intrenchment could not be seen from without. He contrived an egress at either end against a tower. The object was attained; the enemy was concentrating himself in front of the weak salient of the Oppidum, and was drawing nearer. The defenders, however, ignorant of the motives which had induced the Brenn to attempt the hazardous sortie of the previous night, shook their heads and appeared anxious. If two or three hundred of the enemy had been killed, they had lost nearly as many.

The women whose husbands were dead were filling the camp with their lamentations. Yet it was essential that Sigild should possess the confidence of his brethren in arms till the dÉnoÛment he had prepared should arrive. He called together the chiefs of the tribes. "You see plainly," said he, "that we cannot break through the lines which inclose the camp. The enemy are very numerous and daring, and not to be disconcerted. Besides, can we think of leaving here the aged, the women, and the children to become their prey! It is very certain that even if a troop of brave warriors could cut their way through such a host of enemies, the women, the aged, and the children could not follow them.

"My object in the sortie of last night was to force the enemy to concentrate all his forces towards the north; which he will be all the more disposed to do, as it is the weakest point of the Oppidum. When we have thus drawn him to that side, obliging him to withdraw from the hill-sides, we will go down on a dark night into the valley, cross the river by a bridge which I shall have in readiness and which fifty men will be able to put in place, and fly towards the river. When we find that we have no more provisions left than we are able to take with us, friends with whom I am in communication will guide us to some neighbouring tribes of our race, and who will give us a hearty welcome, because they want help in cultivating the broad lands they possess. You may therefore bid the tribes and the warriors take courage: every contingency is provided for. But if the plan is to succeed, we must not allow the enemy a moment's peace while we remain here."

Having nothing better to suggest, the chiefs of the tribes appeared to put faith in Sigild's words. His confident air, his good looks, the energy he displayed, and the care he took to make himself acquainted with everything, continued to secure for him the sympathy of the unfortunate refugees.

In the little camp above the burnt bridge he had, in accordance with the plan stated, some light rafts made which could be readily fastened together. He went frequently to see the work, and appeared to attach great importance to it. He ordered that the captives who were badly wounded should be killed; the others taken in the last engagement were supplied with food in abundance. Confined in a sort of pit surrounded by stakes, they could not observe what was going on in the camp. Well guarded in the daytime, they were by Sigild's orders scarcely watched during the night, on the supposition that some would contrive to escape and would make the enemy believe that there was no scarcity of provisions, which was exactly what happened. One night, three of the stoutest captives succeeded in getting out of the pit, and gliding along the ramparts, regained the besieger's camp. Then Sigild had the others killed.

Of the warriors not engaged in guarding the ramparts, the Brenn had formed four corps of three to five hundred men each; and at certain times of the day and night he sent them down by one or other of the gates to harass the enemy on one side of his camp, or at both sides at once. Neither party suffered much loss in these skirmishes, whose only result was to keep the besiegers in constant suspense, to weary them and oblige them to concentrate their forces. It was also evident that the enemy were preparing for a general assault. They were seen accumulating faggots, cutting long poles, and making wicker screens.

On the morning of the fourteenth day of the siege only a few scattered parties were seen on the surrounding hills, while in the valley the palisading formed opposite to the ruined bridge and the raft bridge were alone still occupied by a considerable number of troops. "It is certain," said Sigild, to the chiefs of the tribes, "that the enemy is preparing to attack us. We must resist this assault with vigour, and then we will take advantage of his exhaustion and disorder to carry out our plan of flight." The besieger's preparations appeared formidable, and the camp opposite the northern salient of the Oppidum presented a busy scene. Sigild on his part neglected no means of resistance, though he calculated on the arrival of the troops summoned to their relief in the evening. He had the towers well supplied with stones and darts: on the ramparts he strengthened the wattle parapet, and increased the number of inclines for reaching it easily.

Both sides were preparing for a decisive conflict. The intrenchment made behind the salient was well manned, and the Brenn trained his men to pass out in a body through the two egresses formed at the extremities of the intrenchment, so as to take the assailants in flank.

That day however, passed without fighting. At sunset the Brenn ascended one of the towers, and attentively examined the horizon. His attendants thought he was watching the movements of the enemy; he was, in fact, waiting for Tomar's signal. The night passed, and no signal appeared.

Repressing all signs of the serious anxiety that had oppressed him through this tedious night, the sun had no sooner arisen than the Brenn disposed his men at the points he thought likely to be attacked.

The enemy had formed in two large bodies three hundred paces from the Oppidum; they had accumulated in front of them an immense quantity of faggots, beams, and wattles. The sun was already high above the horizon when they began to move. First came a line of warriors under cover of wicker shields, which protected them from darts and stones.

In this way they reached the counterscarp of the ditch, despite of missiles from the towers. There they fixed the wicker shields, and behind these a great number of the enemy bearing faggots gradually posted themselves. Then over this screen they threw a great quantity of these faggots into the ditch. When they judged that there were enough of them, they threw flaming brands upon them.

The besieged had no means of counteracting this kind of attack. They showered darts and stones in abundance upon the assailants, but only wounded a few of them; nor did they seem to mind these missiles. The wind blew from the north-west. The faggots were soon kindled, and the smoke and sparks blinded the defenders. Three of the towers took fire, as well as the wattling of the ramparts.

Sigild, calm and unmoved, had withdrawn his men behind the second intrenchment. "The enemy," said he, "will not be able to pass till all is consumed; that will take time; let him mount the rampart and cry victory. Then will be our time for action." In fact, the green wood burned badly, and produced much smoke; the besieged threw bushes and chips on the red-hot faggots to feed the fire, and it continued burning. The enemy were becoming impatient; the besieged looked on cheerfully. About the middle of the afternoon, however, the fire went out at some points; the besiegers threw earth and trunks of trees into the ditch, and, perceiving no defenders, thought that the ramparts being intenable were abandoned. With shouts they rushed on to the slopes, leaped the half-consumed wattling, and meeting with no resistance, descended in a close body into the camp (Fig. 8). There they were greeted by a sudden shower of darts and stones; but they unhesitatingly rushed upon the intrenchment, which presented only a slight elevation and a shallow ditch, thinking to carry it easily.

fortress

Fig. 8.

But the intrenchment was strong, and furnished with thick pointed stakes. The assailants, urging forward and aiding each other, gained its ridge; they were received with swords and pikes, and fell back dying upon their comrades; others filled their places. The bodies of the wounded, which in some places gradually filled up the ditch, afforded them a passage. Many of the enemy had succeeded in throwing themselves into the midst of the defenders, and in opening deep passages among them which were instantly occupied by the most daring. The deep front which the Brenn had formed behind the intrenchment was broken. Then it was that he unmasked the two egresses at the extremities, sending out from both the troops of chosen warriors, who, keeping close along the deserted rampart, fell upon the dense stream of assailants. So compact was the crowd, and so great the pressure against the intrenchment, that they had scarcely room to move. The two detachments above mentioned were mowing away before them to enable them to advance. But the enemy kept pouring in, and the space regained was immediately filled with fresh assailants, who, disregarding the attacks on their flanks, pushed furiously on to the centre.

The bodies of the slain and the faggots had filled the ditch for the length of a hundred paces, and the loosened stakes formed but a slight protection to the defenders. The noise of the attack brought a great number of women hurrying to the spot. They might be seen with bare arms, raising stones above their heads, and hurling them with shrill cries against the breasts of the assailants, or despatching the wounded that had fallen inside the intrenchment with the culinary wooden pestles used for pounding herbs and flesh in hollow stones. A shout was raised, the crowd of assailants opened, and a hundred men were seen steadily advancing, bearing on their shoulders an enormous trunk of a tree, and surrounded by warriors armed with axes. This column overthrowing all in its passage, whether friend or foe, made a wide lane in the intrenchment, strewn with dead and wounded. The beam was already more than half way through on the inside of the defences when the women ran in, and rushing like she-wolves on the flanks of the column, passed between the warriors, and clung to the legs of the bearers. The enormous beam swayed, toppled over, and bore down in its fall both assailants and defenders by its vast weight. Sigild profiting by the confusion, then dashed into the breach, followed by a troop of warriors which he had not without difficulty kept in reserve. In his return he cut himself a passage through the crowd of assailants. Seeing this movement, the warriors who had issued from the two ends of the inner intrenchment redoubled their efforts. Others rushed on to the rampart-walk by the side issues of the intrenchment, and fell upon the enemies within or without the rampart. The latter, cramped within this narrow space, and with their centre broken through, were unable to use their arms. Some fell and were suffocated. Those who were on the projecting part of the rampart began to turn and fly into the midst of their advancing comrades, who not seeing what was taking place behind the rampart, were for compelling them to return to the battle.

The crowd fell into confusion, and disregarding the voice of the chiefs, accumulated in such masses in the ditch, the escarpments and the rampart-walk, that it could act only by its weight, and offered itself to attack without power of defence. Most threw down their bucklers which hampered their movements.

Sigild kept advancing, and all the warriors not engaged in defending the intrenchment formed behind him in a column which became denser each moment. As soon as they were outside the intrenchment, these warriors turned about and threw themselves on the bulk of the assailants, who were separated into two masses. Caught as in a pair of pincers by Sigild's band, and by those coming from the terminal egresses of the intrenchment, they were slaughtered without resistance.

In vain did the chiefs of the enemy sound a retreat. The bulk of assailants, who were massed between the rampart and the intrenchment, could neither advance nor recede. Very few succeeded in rejoining their companions. Fatigue alone stayed the defenders; it was no longer a combat but a massacre.

Although the warriors of the Val d'Avon had suffered considerable loss, the success of the defence had intoxicated them, and they were eager to take advantage of the disorder of the enemy to sally forth from the Oppidum and fall upon them. Sigild was obliged to swear to them by the most terrible of oaths, that their vengeance would be more effective by delay.

He told them, moreover, that the enemy were very numerous, and that the losses they had suffered had not weakened them to such a degree as to render them contemptible; that they were burning for revenge, and that to attack them in their camp was to give them the very opportunity they desired. The authority of the chiefs of the tribes of the Druids had, however, to be appealed to, to keep the warriors within the Oppidum.

Night fell on the narrow battle-field covered with the dead and wounded. The Brenn took re-possession of the ramparts, had the wattle parapet hastily repaired, the enemy's wounded put to death, and his own carried into the middle of the camp, where they were consigned to the care of the women; then he ascended one of the unburnt towers of that front, hoping to perceive Tomar's signal. But the night was hazy, and the fires of the enemy three or four hundred paces distant were scarcely visible.

It was evident that Tomar could not have lighted his fire, or if he had lighted it, it was impossible to see it through the haze.

The warriors after the laborious day, chilled by the autumn fog, were sleeping around their fires. The cries of victory had been exchanged for a death-like silence, broken only by the groans of some of the wounded who had been forgotten.

The Brenn was considering whether it would not be wise to follow the plan which he had indicated to the chiefs of the tribes—to leave the camp before daybreak by crossing the river on a line of rafts, before the enemy had time to effect a fresh assault. Provisions would certainly fail them soon. But how move this multitude! The warriors needed rest. "One more day," he said to himself; "and if I have no news of Tomar, I still must consider it." Then he went out and ordered to the point attacked a body of warriors some hundreds strong, who, having guarded the unbroken part of the ramparts during the assault, and having taken no part in the conflict, were fresh and vigorous. Some women even mounted the towers. He enjoined all of them to give the alarm vigorously if they saw the enemy approaching the ramparts, so as to rouse the sleeping warriors. He despatched several of his trusty friends to the other fronts of the camp, with injunctions to watch the approaches, and to send out scouts through the gates to ascertain any movements outside, and to light fires a little way from the ramparts, so as to illuminate the immediate vicinity. He proceeded towards the southern extremity of the Oppidum, and saw that the little camp above the bridge that had been destroyed was guarded; but also perceived through the mist the fires of the enemy in the valley opposite this point.

It was midnight, and Sigild, exhausted by fatigue, returned to the northern side and retired to rest beneath one of the towers. Some of his friends kept watch outside around a large fire.

The Brenn was sleeping, when a hand placed on his shoulder awaked him. By the light of a resin torch he saw Tomar standing by him. "Is it really thou, Tomar?" said he, thinking he was dreaming. "It is I." "Alone?" "Alone here; the warriors are down there; the fog rendered the signal useless: I am come." "Hast thou been seen?" "Thy warriors sleep, no one has recognised me; a woman told me thou wert here." "Why a day late?" "Ditovix has assembled a thousand warriors." "Ah, Ditovix is with them." A cloud passed over the brow of the Brenn. "He is a noble fellow," said he, after a pause. "Thou knowest that we were attacked yesterday?" "I know it; I saw the field of the slain. The enemy are numerous; they cannot turn back, to-morrow they will make another attack—they are resolved to succeed." "And then?" "Then Ditovix is to fall upon them before midday, when he knows the conflict is begun." "Well?" "If I do not go back to Ditovix, or if he hears nothing from you, he will make the attack." "Remain with us, then; thou art sure that we shall be assailed in the morning?" "I passed along the enemy's camp—they are preparing for a fresh assault; and there are warriors following the course of the river to attack the west side also."

There was not a moment to lose. Sigild called his friends together, and informed them that a final effort must be made—that the enemy, harassed on their rear by neighbouring tribes, must either get possession of the Oppidum that very day or perish. Tomar was represented as having passed the previous day in the besiegers' camp, and become acquainted with the position of affairs.

No one doubted the veracity of Tomar, who, so far from exaggerating, never told a quarter of what he knew.

Sigild scarcely had at his disposal, after the various assaults that had taken place, three thousand men in a condition to fight, deducting the troop stationed opposite the burnt bridge. He divided his forces into three bodies, one of about twelve hundred men to defend the northern ramparts, the second of eight hundred posted on the western rampart, and the third of a thousand men which he kept in the centre of the Oppidum under his own direct command.

At the other posts around the Oppidum he placed men unaccustomed to fight and unprovided with arms, but who were yet able to offer some resistance if the enemy should present themselves. Women were posted in the towers away from the points of expected attack. Their only duty was to hurl stones at the assailants.

The day broke slowly owing to the thick vapours obscuring the sky; nevertheless the warriors, encouraged by the words of the Brenn and by their success the day before, awaited the enemy full of ardour. The Druids, informed by Sigild of the arrival of help, traversed the camp announcing that the hour of deliverance had come, and that the souls of those who should fall were secure of the most glorious future. The Druidesses, with dishevelled hair, fastened sacred boughs to the wattling of the ramparts.

A body of the enemy about two thousand strong now became distinctly visible opposite the western front of the Oppidum, with the river at its back. Towards the end of the first quarter of the day, this troop climbed the escarpment and stopped an arrow's flight off. It then divided itself into eight parties, each of which, provided with faggots, proceeded towards one of the towers. The assailants were received with a shower of arrows and stones. They advanced nevertheless without wavering, and heaped up the faggots at the foot of the towers, not without considerable loss on their side; for the besieged hurled on them over the parapets large pebbles and trunks of trees.

The assailants tried several times to set fire to the faggots, but the wood was damp, and the defenders threw baskets of wet earth on the incipient flames.

The assault on the western side had continued for some time, when a vast number of the enemy threw themselves on the northern salient, whose towers were partly destroyed.

As on the previous day, they rushed in such a compact mass upon the salient, that they were not long in effecting a breach.

Sigild then sent out five hundred men by the western gate to take the assaulting column in flank, whilst he proceeded with the five hundred of the reserve body straight to the salient. By the time he had reached this point the enemy was already within the rampart, and his forces were sheltered behind the intrenchment.

On seeing the heaps of the slain with which this quarter was strewed, the fury of the enemy appeared to be redoubled, and they swept along like a flood through a wide breach. Thinking themselves at last masters of the Oppidum, they fell in disorder upon the troops led by Sigild. This body, disposed crescent-wise, formed as it were a second intrenchment, which the assailants vainly endeavoured to break through.

The five hundred men who had gone out by the eastern gate had reached the left flank of the throng of besiegers, when a tremendous shout arose from the enemy's camp.

Horsemen came galloping at the top of their speed towards the Oppidum. The attacking host wavered. Assailed on their flank they made scarcely any resistance, and a movement of disorderly retreat became more and more clearly manifest.

Those who had gained a footing within the rampart, seeing themselves no longer supported, or rather forced on by new-comers, turned and fled with all haste towards the wood.

Sigild perceived that Ditovix was making his attack; then, collecting his warriors and summoning all the men from the various parts of the defences, he formed a dense column, and overthrowing the assailants who were betwixt him and the rampart, passed it and rejoined the warriors already outside: "Now," cried he, "forward! the enemy is ours; let not one escape."

The wretched besiegers, hemmed in between the warriors of Ditovix and those led by Sigild, although twice as numerous as the forces of their opponents united, became utterly disorganized, no longer thought of defending themselves, and rushing now to one side, now to the other, met death everywhere.

Many attempted to fly towards the river or the rivulet; but at an intimation from Sigild, Tomar, who had remained in the Oppidum, sent the warriors posted on the ramparts in pursuit of them.

The assailants on the western front, seeing the disorder into which their party had been thrown on the plateau, had got down towards the banks. On that side the warriors poured forth by the western gate, broke the bridge of rafts, and fell upon the enemy hemmed in by the river.

Those of the besiegers who did not meet their death that day, perished of cold or hunger in the endeavour to escape pursuit. A thousand, however, were taken; among others those who guarded the palisade in the valley. They were slain in the NÉmÈde in presence of the Druids and Druidesses. Most of the bodies were thrown into the river, and for several days the dwellers on the banks of the river found corpses entangled among the reeds.