_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.
[Illustration: 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."
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: 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.