On the following morning Edmund, who had returned to his ship to sleep,
was aroused by loud shouts on deck. Hurrying from his cabin he saw a
vast fleet of ships approaching the mouth of the river. They were of
all sizes--from great sailing ships to rowing galleys. It needed but a
glance at them to assure him that they were the dreaded ships of the
Northmen, for the Black Raven floated at many of the mast-heads.
From the town the sounds of horns and great shoutings could be heard,
showing that there too the approaching fleet had just been discerned as
the morning fog lifted from the sea. Edmund held a hurried consultation
with his kinsman. It was now too late to gain the sea, for the Danish
ships had already reached the mouth of the river. To attempt to escape
by fighting would be madness, and they hesitated only whether to run
the ship ashore, and, leaving her there, enter the town and share in
its defence, or to proceed up the river with all speed to Rouen, or
even to Paris.
The latter course was decided upon, for the Danish ships would contain
so vast a number of men that there was little hope that Havre could
resist their attack, nor was it likely that Rouen, which, on the
previous year had been captured and sacked, would even attempt another
resistance, which would only bring massacre and ruin upon its
inhabitants. Paris alone, the capital of the Frankish kings, seemed to
offer a refuge. The deliberation was a short one, and by the time the
men had taken their places at the oars their leaders had decided upon
their course.
The anchor ropes were cut, for not a moment was to be lost, the leading
ships of the Danes being already less than half a mile distant. The
tide was flowing, and the Dragon swept rapidly up the river. Some of
the Danish galleys followed for a while, but seeing that the Dragon had
the speed of them, they abandoned the pursuit, and at a more easy
stroke the rowers continued their work until they reached Rouen. Here
the tide failed them, and they moored against the bank under the walls.
Edmund and Egbert went on shore. They found the city in a state of wild
confusion. Saying that they had important news, and must see the
governor, they were led to the council-chamber, where the leading men
of the town were assembled. After stating who he and his companion
were, Edmund announced the arrival of a great Danish fleet at the mouth
of the river.
"Your news, sir, is terrible for our poor country," the governor said,
"but to us it scarce brings any additional horror, although it will
probably decide the question which we are engaged in discussing. We
have news here that a great Danish army which landed at Abbeville is
marching hitherward, and we are met to discuss whether the town should
resist to the last or should open its gates at their approach. This
news you bring of the arrival of a fresh army of these sea robbers at
Havre renders our case desperate. So fierce is their attack that we
could hardly hope successfully to resist the approaching army, but
against it and this fleet you tell us of resistance could only bring
about our utter destruction. That, at least, is my opinion, the other
members of the council must speak for themselves."
The other members, who were the principal merchants and traders of the
town, were unanimously of the same opinion.
"Better," they said, "to give up all our worldly goods to the Northmen
than to be slaughtered pitilessly with our wives and families."
"Such being your decision," Edmund said, "my kinsman and myself will
proceed up the river to Paris; hitherto, as we hear, the Northmen have
not ventured to attack that city, and should they do so, it will
doubtless resist to the last."
Accordingly the two Saxons returned at once to the Dragon, and as soon
as the tide turned unmoored and proceeded up the river. Three days
after leaving Rouen they arrived in sight of Paris. The capital of the
Franks was but a small city, and was built entirely upon the island
situated just at the confluence of the Seine and Marne. It was
surrounded by a strong and lofty wall.
On the approach of a vessel differing entirely from anything they had
before seen the citizens flocked to the walls. The Golden Dragon
floating at the mast-head showed them that the vessel did not belong to
the Danes, and some of the more experienced in these matters said at
once that she must be a Saxon ship. The Count Eudes, who had been left
by the king in command of Paris, himself came to the walls just as the
Dragon came abreast of them. Edmund ordered the rowers to pause at
their work.
"Who are you?" the Count Eudes shouted. "Whence do you come and with
what intent?"
"My name is Edmund. I am an ealdorman of King Alfred of the Saxons.
When at sea fighting the Northmen a tempest blew me down your coast,
and I took refuge in the port of Havre. Four days since at daybreak a
vast fleet of Northmen entered the river. We rowed up to Rouen hoping
to be able to find safe shelter there; but the citizens being aware
that a great army of the sea robbers was marching against their town,
and being further intimidated by the news I brought them, decided upon
surrendering without resistance. Therefore we have continued our
journey hither, being assured that here at least the Danish wolves
would not have their way unopposed. We have fought them long in our
native land, and wish for nothing better than to aid in the efforts of
the Franks against our common enemy."
"You are welcome, sir earl," the Count Eudes said, "though the news you
bring us is bad indeed. We have heard how valiantly the thanes of King
Alfred have fought against the invaders, and shall be glad indeed of
your assistance should the Northmen, as I fear, come hither."
So saying the count ordered the gates to be opened, and the Dragon
having been moored alongside, Edmund and Egbert with their crew entered
the town, where the leaders were received with great honour by the
count. He begged them to become guests at the castle, where quarters
were also assigned to the crew. A banquet was at once prepared, at
which many of the principal citizens were present.
As soon as the demands of hunger were satisfied the count made further
inquiries as to the size of the fleet which had entered the Seine, and
as to the army reported to be marching against Rouen.
"I doubt not," he said, when the Saxons had given him all the
particulars in their power, "that it is the armament of Siegfroi who
has already wrought such destruction. More than once he has appeared
before our walls, and has pillaged and ravaged the whole of the north
of France. The last time he was here he threatened to return with a
force which would suffice to raze Paris to the ground, and doubtless he
is coming to endeavour to carry out his threat; but he will not find
the task an easy one, we shall resist him to the last; and right glad
am I that I shall have the assistance of two of the Saxon thanes who
have so often inflicted heavy defeats upon these wolves of the sea.
Your vessel is a strange one, and differs from those that I have
hitherto seen, either Dane or Saxon. She is a sailing ship, and yet
appears to row very fast."
"She is built," Edmund said, "partly upon the design of King Alfred
himself, which were made from paintings he possessed of the war galleys
of Italy, which country he visited in his youth. They were carried out
by a clever shipwright of Exeter; and, indeed, the ship sails as well
as she rows, and, as the Danes have discovered to their cost, is able
to fight as well as she can sail and row. Had we been fairly out to sea
before the Danish fleet made its appearance we could have given a good
account of ourselves, but we were caught in a trap."
"I fear that if the Northmen surround the city your ship will be
destroyed."
"I was thinking of that," Edmund said, "and I pray you to let me have
some men who know the river higher up. There must assuredly be low
shores often overflowed where there are wide swamps covered with wood
and thickets, which the enemy would not enter, seeing that no booty
could be obtained there. The ship was built in such a spot, and we
could cut a narrow gap from the river and float her well in among the
trees so as to be hidden from the sight of any passing up the river in
galleys, closing up the cut again so that none might suspect its
existence."
"That could be done easily enough," the count said; "there are plenty
of spots which would be suitable, for the banks are for the most part
low and the ground around swampy and wooded. To-morrow I will tell off
a strong body of men to accompany you in your ship, and aid your crew
in their work."
Twenty miles up the Seine a suitable spot was found, and the crew of
the Dragon, with the hundred men whom the Count Eudes had lent for the
purpose, at once set about their work. They had but little trouble, for
a spot was chosen where a sluggish stream, some fifteen feet wide,
drained the water from a wide-spreading swamp into the river. The
channel needed widening but a little to allow of the Dragon entering,
and the water was quite deep enough to permit her being taken some
three hundred yards back from the river.
The trees and underwood were thick, and Edmund was assured that even
when winter, which was now approaching, stripped the last leaf from the
trees, the Dragon could not be seen from the river. Her masts were
lowered, and bundles of brushwood were hung along her side so as to
prevent the gleam of black paint being discerned through the trees.
The entrance to the stream was filled up to a width of three or four
feet, and the new work turfed with coarse grass similar to that which
grew beside it. Bushes were planted close to the water's edge, and
stakes were driven down in the narrow channel to within a few inches of
the surface of the water.
Certain now that no Danish boats would be likely to turn aside from the
river to enter this channel into the swamp, the party embarked in some
boats which had been towed up by the Dragon and returned down the river
to Paris.
The afternoon before starting all the valuable booty which had been
captured from the Danes was landed and placed in security in the
castle, and upon his return to Paris Edmund disposed of this at good
prices to the traders of the city.
A fortnight after they had returned to Paris the news was brought in
that a vast fleet of Northmen was ascending the river. The next morning
it was close at hand, and the citizens mounting the walls beheld with
consternation the approaching armament. So numerous were the ships that
they completely covered the river. The fleet consisted of seven hundred
sailing ships, and a vastly greater number of rowing galleys and boats.
These vessels were crowded with men, and their fierce aspect, their
glittering arms, and their lofty stature, spread terror in the hearts
of the citizens.
"This is truly a tremendous host!" the Count Eudes said to Edmund, who
stood beside him on the walls.
"It is indeed," Edmund replied. "Numerous as are the fleets which have
poured down upon the shores of England, methinks that none approached
this in strength. It is clear that the Northmen have united their
forces for a great effort against this city; but having at home
successfully defended fortifications, which were not to be named in
comparison with those of Paris, against them, I see no reason to doubt
that we shall be able to beat them off here."
The Danes landed on the opposite bank and formed a vast camp there, and
the following morning three of their number in a small boat rowed
across the river and said that their king Siegfroi desired to speak
with Goslin, archbishop of Paris, who stood in the position of civil
governor. They were told that the archbishop would receive the king in
his palace.
An hour later a stately figure in glittering armour was seen to take
his place in a long galley, which, rowed by twenty men, quickly shot
across the stream. Siegfroi landed, and, accompanied by four of his
leading warriors, entered the gates, which were opened at his approach.
The chief of the Northmen was a warrior of lofty stature. On his head
he wore a helmet of gold, on whose crest was a raven with extended
wings wrought in the same metal. His hair fell loosely on his neck; his
face was clean shaved in Danish fashion, save for a long moustache. He
wore a breastplate of golden scales, and carried a shield of the
toughest bull's-hide studded with gold nails.
He was unarmed, save a long dagger which he wore in his belt. He and
his followers, who were all men of immense stature, walked with a proud
and assured air between the lines of citizens who clustered thickly on
each side of the street, and who gazed in silence at these dreaded
figures. They were escorted by the chamberlain of the archbishop, and
on arriving at his palace were conducted into the chamber where Goslin,
Count Eudes, and several of the leading persons of Paris awaited them.
Siegfroi bent his head before the prelate.
"Goslin," he said, "I beg you to have compassion upon yourself and your
flock if you do not wish to perish. We beseech you to turn a favourable
ear to our words. Grant only that we shall march through the city. We
will touch nothing in the town, and we undertake to preserve all your
property, both yours and that of Eudes."
The archbishop replied at once:
"This city has been confided to us by the Emperor Charles, who is,
after God, the king and master of the powers of the earth. Holding
under his rule almost all the world, he confided it to us, with the
assurance that we should suffer no harm to come to the kingdom, but
should keep it for him safe and sure. If it had happened that the
defence of these walls had been committed to your hands, as it has been
committed to mine, what would you have done had such a demand been made
upon you? Would you have granted the demand?"
"If I had granted it," Siegfroi replied, "may my head fall under the
axe and serve as food for dogs. Nevertheless, if you do not grant our
demands, by day we will overwhelm your city with our darts, and with
poisoned arrows by night. You shall suffer all the horrors of hunger,
and year after year we will return and make a ruin of your city."
Without another word he turned, and followed by his companions, strode
through the streets of Paris, and taking his place in the boat returned
to his camp.
At daybreak the next morning the Norsemen were seen crowding into their
ships. The trumpets sounded loudly, and the citizens seized their arms
and hastened to the walls. The Norsemen crossed the river, and directed
their attack against a tower which stood at the head of the bridge
connecting the city and island with the farther bank. Those who landed
were provided with picks, crowbars, and other implements for effecting
a breach, and their approach was protected by a cloud of arrows and
javelins from the fleet which covered the surface of the river.
The French leaders soon assembled at the threatened point. Chief among
these were Eudes, his brother Robert, the Count Ragenaire, and the Abbe
Ebble, a nephew of the archbishop. The Franks bore themselves bravely,
and in spite of the rain of arrows defended the walls against the
desperate attacks of the Northmen.
The fortifications in those days were very far from having attained the
strength and solidity which a few generations later were bestowed upon
them. The stones of which they were constructed were comparatively
small, and fastened together by mortar, consequently they could ill
resist even an assault by manual weapons. Covered by their shields the
Northmen worked untiringly at the foundations, and piece by piece the
walls crumbled to the ground. Every effort, however, to enter at the
breaches so made was repulsed, and Siegfroi kept back his warriors,
determined to delay the grand assault until the next day. By nightfall
the tower was in ruins, scarce a portion of the walls remaining erect.
Many of the besieged had been killed. The archbishop was wounded with
an arrow. Frederic, a young soldier who led the troops of the church
was killed.
The besiegers had suffered much more severely, great numbers having
been killed by the stones and missiles hurled down by the defenders
while engaged in the demolition of the walls. At nightfall the Danes
carried off their wounded and recrossed the river, confident that next
day they would succeed in their assault. As soon as darkness had set in
Count Eudes collected the citizens, and these, bearing beams and
planks, crossed the bridge to the tower, and set to work. Outside the
circle of ruins holes were dug and the beams securely fixed. Planks
were nailed to these, and earth heaped up behind them.
All night the work continued, and by morning a fortification much
higher than the original tower had been erected all round the ruin. The
Danes again crossed the river in their ships, and the assault was
renewed. Javelins and great stones were hurled at the fortification,
and clouds of arrows from the shipping fell within them. Covered with
portable roofs constructed of planks the Danes strove to destroy the
wall. The besieged poured upon them a blazing mixture of oil, wax, and
pitch. Numbers of the Danes were burned to death, while others,
maddened by the pain, threw themselves into the river.
Over and over again Siegfroi led his warriors to the attack, but the
defenders, headed by Eudes and the brave Abbe Ebble, each time repelled
them. The abbe particularly distinguished himself, and he is reported
to have slain seven Danes at once with one javelin, a blow which may be
considered as bordering on the miraculous. But the number of the
defenders of the tower was small indeed to that of the enemy, and the
loss which they inflicted upon the Danes, great as it was, was as
nothing in so vast a host.
The flames of the machines, lighted by the pitch and oil, communicated
to the planks of the fortification, and soon these too were on fire. As
they burned, the earth behind them gave way, and a breach was formed.
Encouraged by this result the Danes brought up faggots, and in several
places lighted great fires against the fortifications. The defenders
began to lose all hope, when a tremendous storm of rain suddenly burst
over Paris quenching the fire.
The besieged gained heart, reinforcements crossed from the town, and
the Danes again withdrew to their ships, having lost in the day's
fighting three hundred men. After this repulse the Northmen desisted
for a time from their attack. They formed a strong fortified camp near
the church of St. Germain, and then spread over the country slaying and
burning, sparing none, man, woman, or child. From the walls of Paris
the smoke could be seen rising over the whole country, and every heart
was moved with rage and sorrow.
Edmund and his party had taken no part in the defence of the tower. Its
loss would not have involved that of the town, and Eudes requested him
to keep his band in reserve in order that they might remain intact
until the Danes should make a breach in the walls of the city itself,
when the sudden reinforcement of a party of such well-trained warriors
might decide the result.
While a portion of the Danish host were engaged upon the work of
devastation, a large number were employed upon the construction of
three great towers. These were built on wheels, and were each large
enough to hold sixty men. They far overtopped the walls, and the
citizens viewed with alarm the time when an assault should be delivered
under the protection of these formidable machines. Eighteen ships of
equal size were moored by the bank six deep. Great planks were laid
across them, and a sloping platform having been formed, the towers were
by the efforts of thousands of men moved up and placed on the ships.
"If we do not destroy those towers, Egbert," Edmund said one day as he
saw them slowly moving into their position on board the ships, "all is
lost, for from their summits the Northmen with their bows and javelins
will be able to clear the walls, while those below effect a breach at
their leisure."
"That is true enough, Edmund, but I do not see any way to destroy them.
Unfortunately we have no boats, or we might fill some of them with
combustibles, and tow them down until near enough for the stream to
carry them upon those vessels; but even then the chance were small
indeed, for the Danes would swarm out in their boats and manage to tow
or push them so that they would not touch the ships."
"I should think, Egbert, that if we could get some skins or planks we
and our band might, when it is quite dark, sally out and take to the
water at the lower end of the island and float down quietly for a mile
or two, and then gain the further bank; then we might march along
quietly until we reach those ships. The Danes know that we have no
boats, and will not fear an attack. We must not do it until an hour or
two before morning, when, after spending the early hours of the night
as usual in feasting and drinking, they will sleep heavily. Just before
we are ready to begin a small party can unmoor two or three of the
boats by the bank and push them out, one to the outside of each tier of
six vessels, so that we may have a means of retreat across the river.
When that is done we will make a rush on board the ships, cut down any
Danes we may find there, and set fire to all the vessels. We must hold
the gangways to the shore until the flames get well alight, and then
take to the boats and return."
"I think the plan is a good one, Edmund, and may well be carried out
without great loss. There are plenty of empty wine skins at present in
Paris. I will at once set about collecting a hundred of them. We will
fasten to each a stout cord so as to form a loop to go over the head
and shoulders, then we had best attach them all together by one long
cord, by which means we shall float in a body."
"Fortunately the night is very dark and I think that we shall succeed.
Say nothing about it, Egbert, and tell the men to keep silent. The good
people of Paris shall know nothing of the matter until they see the
flames dancing round the towers which they hold in so much dread."
The Saxons received with satisfaction the news of the intended
expedition. They had been disappointed at being kept back from taking
any part in the fighting during the two days' attack upon the tower,
and longed for an opportunity to inflict a blow upon their hated enemy
the Danes. The wine skins were fitted up with ropes as Egbert had
suggested, and soon after nightfall the party, armed with spear and
sword, and carrying each his float, sallied out from the gates, as
Edmund was by this time so well known among the citizens that the gate
was opened without demur on his order.
They crept along the foot of the wall until they reached the lower
extremity of the island. Across the river innumerable fires blazed
high, and the songs and shouts of the Danes rose loud in the air.
Numbers of figures could be seen moving about or standing near the
fires, the tents of the chiefs were visible some distance back, but the
number of these as well as of the fires was much less than it had been
on the first arrival of the Northmen, owing to the numbers who had gone
to the camp round St. Germain.
The night was very dark and a light rain was falling. Before taking to
the water Edmund bade his men strip off the greater portion of their
clothes and fasten them in a bundle on their heads, as it would be some
time after they landed before they could advance upon the camp, and the
cold and dripping garments would tend to lessen their spirits and
courage.
When all was ready they stepped into the water, and keeping in a body,
drifted down the stream. The wine skins floated them well above the
water, the stream was running strong, and the lights of the Danish
fires were soon left behind.
In half an hour Edmund and Egbert deemed that they were now far beyond
a point where they might chance upon any Danish stragglers. The word
was therefore given, and all made for the bank. The stream had already
drifted them in that direction, and they soon reached the shore. Here
the skins which had proved so useful were left behind, and putting on
their dry clothes, they felt comparatively comfortable. Edmund ordered
them to lay down their spears and swords by their sides, and to swing
their arms violently. This they continued to do until they were nearly
breathless, by which time the blood was coursing warmly in their veins.
They were now in December, and the water was extremely cold, and Egbert
congratulated Edmund upon having made the men strip, for had they been
compelled to remain in their wet garments while waiting for the Danish
fires to die down, they would scarce have been in a fit state to fight
when the moment for so doing had arrived.
Three hours elapsed before the glare of the distant fires began to
subside, another half hour passed, and then the band were formed up and
moved along on the bank of the river.