"And with right good-will too," the king said laughing. "Never fear, good dame, your tongue has been rough but your heart has been kindly, or never would you have borne so long with so shiftless a serving-man. But leave us now, I pray ye, for I have much to say to my good friends here. And now, Edmund, what news do you bring? I do not ask after the doings of the Dragon, for that no doubt is a long story which you shall tell me later, but how fares it with my kingdom? I have been in correspondence with several of my thanes, who have from time to time sent me news of what passes without. From what they say I deem that the time for action is at last nigh at hand. The people are everywhere desperate at the oppression and exactions of the Danes, and are ready to risk everything to free themselves from so terrible a yoke. I fled here and gave up the strife because the Saxons deemed anything better than further resistance. Now that they have found out their error it is time to be stirring again."

"That is so," Edmund said; "Egbert and I have found the people desperate at their slavery, and ready to risk all did a leader but appear. My own people will all take up arms the instant they receive my summons; they have before now proved their valour, and in my crew of the Dragon you have a body which will, I warrant me, pierce through any Danish line."

"This tallies with what I have heard," Alfred said, "and in the spring I will again raise my banner; but in the meantime I will fortify this place. There are but two or three spots where boats can penetrate through the morasses; were strong stockades and banks erected at each landing-place we might hold the island in case of defeat against any number of the enemy."

"That shall be done," Edmund said, "and quickly. I have a messenger here with me, and others waiting outside the swamp, and can send and bring my crew of the Dragon here at once."

"Let that be one man's mission," the king said; "the others I will send off with messages to the thanes of Somerset, who are only awaiting my summons to take up arms. I will bid them send hither strong working parties, but to make no show in arms until Easter, at which time I will again spread the Golden Dragon to the winds. The treasure you speak of will be right welcome, for all are so impoverished by the Danes that they live but from hand to mouth, and we must at least buy provisions to maintain the parties working here. Arms, too, must be made, for although many have hidden their weapons, the Danes have seized vast quantities, having issued an order that any Saxon found with arms shall be at once put to death. Money will be needed to set all the smithies to work at the manufacture of pikes and swords. Hides must be bought for the manufacture of shields. It will be best to send orders to the ealdormen and thanes to send hither privately the smiths, armourers, and shield-makers in the villages and towns. They cannot work with the Danes ever about, but must set up smithies here. They must bring their tools and such iron as they can carry; what more is required we must buy at the large towns and bring privately in carts to the edge of the morass. The utmost silence and secrecy must be observed, that the Danes may obtain no news of our preparations until we are ready to burst out upon them."

A fortnight later Athelney presented a changed appearance. A thousand men were gathered there. Trees had been cut down, a strong fort erected on the highest ground, and formidable works constructed at three points where alone a landing could be effected. The smoke rose from a score of great mounds, where charcoal-burners were converting timber into fuel for the forges. Fifty smiths and armourers were working vigorously at forges in the open air, roofs thatched with rushes and supported by poles being erected over them to keep the rain and snow from the fires. A score of boats were threading the mazes of the marshes bringing men and cattle to the island. All was bustle and activity, every face shone with renewed hope. King Alfred himself and his thanes moved to and fro among the workers encouraging them at their labours.

Messengers came and went in numbers, and from all parts of Wessex King Alfred received news of the joy which his people felt at the tidings that he was again about to raise his standard, and of the readiness of all to obey his summons. So well was the secret kept that no rumour of the storm about to burst upon them reached the Danes. The people, rejoicing and eager as they were, suffered no evidence of their feelings to be apparent to their cruel masters, who, believing the Saxons to be finally crushed, were lulled into a false security. The king's treasure had been brought from its hiding-place to Athelney, and Edmund and Egbert had also handed over their own share of the booty to the king. The golden cups and goblets he had refused to take, but had gladly accepted the silver.

Edmund and Egbert had left Athelney for a few days on a mission. The king had described to them minutely where he had hidden the sacred standard with the Golden Dragon. It was in the hut of a charcoal-burner in the heart of the forests of Wiltshire. Upon reaching the hut, and showing to the man the king's signet-ring, which when leaving the standard he had told him would be the signal that any who might come for it were sent by him, the man produced the standard from the thatch of his cottage, in which it was deeply buried, and hearing that it was again to be unfurled called his two stalwart sons from their work and at once set out with Edmund and Egbert to join the army.

Easter came and went, but the preparations were not yet completed. A vast supply of arms was needed, and while the smiths laboured at their work Edmund and Egbert drilled the fighting men who had assembled, in the tactics which had on a small scale proved so effective. The wedge shape was retained, and Edmund's own band claimed the honour of forming the apex, but it had now swollen until it contained a thousand men, and as it moved in a solid body, with its thick edge of spears outward, the king felt confident that it would be able to break through the strongest line of the Danes.

From morning till night Edmund and Egbert, assisted by the thanes of Somerset who had gathered there, drilled the men and taught them to rally rapidly from scattered order into solid formation. Unaccustomed to regular tactics the ease and rapidity with which these movements came to be carried out at the notes of Edmund's bugle seemed to all to be little less than miraculous, and they awaited with confidence and eagerness their meeting with the Danes on the field.

At the end of April messengers were sent out bidding the Saxons hold themselves in readiness, and on the 6th of May Alfred moved with his force from Athelney to Egbertesstan (now called Brixton), lying to the east of the forest of Selwood, which lay between Devonshire and Somerset. The Golden Dragon had been unfurled. On the fort in Athelney, and after crossing the marshes to the mainland it was carried in the centre of the phalanx.

On the 12th they reached the appointed place, where they found a great multitude of Saxons already gathered. They had poured in from Devonshire, Somerset, and Wiltshire, from Dorset and Hants. In spite of the vigorous edicts of the Danes against arms a great proportion of them bore weapons, which had been buried in the earth, or concealed in hollow trees or other hiding-places until the time for action should again arrive.

As they saw the king approaching at the head of his band, with the Golden Dragon fluttering in the breeze, a great shout of joy arose from the multitude, and they crowded round the monarch with shouts of welcome at his reappearance among them, and with vows to die rather than again to yield to the tyranny of the Northmen. The rest of the day was spent in distributing the newly fashioned arms to those who needed them, and in arranging the men in bands under their own thanes, or, in their absence, such leaders as the king appointed.

Upon the following morning the army started, marching in a north-easterly direction against the great camp of the Danes at Chippenham. That night they rested at Okeley, and then marched on until in the afternoon they came within sight of the Danes gathered at Ethandune, a place supposed to be identical with Edington near Westbury.

As the time for Alfred's reappearance approached the agitation and movement on the part of the people had attracted the attention of the Danes, and the news of his summons to the Saxons to meet him at Egbertesstan having come to their ears, they gathered hastily from all parts under Guthorn their king, who was by far the most powerful viking who had yet appeared in England, and who ruled East Anglia as well as Wessex. Confident of victory the great Danish army beheld the approach of the Saxons. Long accustomed to success, and superior in numbers, they regarded with something like contempt the approach of their foes.

In the centre Alfred placed the trained phalanx which had accompanied him from Athelney, in the centre of which waved the Golden Dragon, by whose side he placed himself. Its command he left in the hands of Edmund, he himself directing the general movements of the force. On his right were the men of Somerset and Hants; on the left those of Wilts, Dorset, and Devon.

His orders were that the advance was to be made with regularity; that the whole line were to fight for a while on the defensive, resisting the onslaught of the Danes until he gave the word for the central phalanx to advance and burst through the lines of the enemy, and that when these had been thrown into confusion by this attack the flanks were to charge forward and complete the rout. This plan was carried out. The Danes advanced with their usual impetuosity, and for hours tried to break through the lines of the Saxon spears. Both sides fought valiantly, the Danes inspired by their pride in their personal prowess and their contempt for the Saxons; the Saxons by their hatred for their oppressors, and their determination to die rather than again submit to their bondage. At length, after the battle had raged some hours, and both parties were becoming wearied from their exertions, the king gave Edmund the order.

Hitherto his men had fought in line with the rest; but at the sound of his bugle they quitted their places, and, ere the Danes could understand the meaning of this sudden movement, had formed themselves into their wedge, raised a mighty shout, and advanced against the enemy. The onslaught was irresistible. The great wedge, with its thick fringe of spears, burst its way straight through the Danish centre carrying all before it. Then at another note of Edmund's bugle it broke up into two bodies, which moved solidly to the right and left, crumpling up the Danish lines.

Alfred now gave the order for a general advance, and the Saxon ranks, with a shout of triumph, flung themselves upon the disordered Danes. Their success was instant and complete. Confounded at the sudden break up of their line, bewildered by these new and formidable tactics, attacked in front and in flank, the Danes broke and fled. The Saxons pursued them hotly, Edmund keeping his men well together in case the Danes should rally. Their rout, however, was too complete; vast numbers were slain, and the remnant of their army did not pause until they found themselves within the shelter of their camp at Chippenham.

No quarter was given by the Saxons to those who fell into their hands, and pressing upon the heels of the flying Danes the victorious army of King Alfred sat down before Chippenham. Every hour brought fresh reinforcements to the king's standard. Many were already on their way when the battle was fought; and as the news of the victory spread rapidly every man of the West Saxons capable of bearing arms made for Chippenham, feeling that now or never must a complete victory over the Danes be obtained.

No assault was made upon the Danish camp. Confident in his now vastly superior numbers, and in the enthusiasm which reigned in his army, Alfred was unwilling to waste a single life in an attack upon the entrenchments, which must ere long surrender from famine. There was no risk of reinforcements arriving to relieve the Danes. Guthorn had led to the battle the whole fighting force of the Danes in Wessex and East Anglia. This was far smaller than it would have been a year earlier; but the Northmen, having once completed their work of pillage, soon turned to fresh fields of adventure. Those whose disposition led them to prefer a quiet life had settled upon the land from which they had dispossessed the Saxons; but the principal bands of rovers, finding that England was exhausted and that no more plunder could be had, had either gone back to enjoy at home the booty they had gained, or had sailed to harry the shores of France, Spain, and Italy.

Thus the position of the Danes in Chippenham was desperate, and at the end of fourteen days, by which time they were reduced to an extremity by hunger, they sent messengers into the royal camp offering their submission. They promised if spared to quit the kingdom with all speed, and to observe this contract more faithfully than those which they had hitherto made and broken. They offered the king as many hostages as he might wish to take for the fulfilment of their promises. The haggard and emaciated condition of those who came out to treat moved Alfred to pity.

So weakened were they by famine that they could scarce drag themselves along. It would have been easy for the Saxons to have slain them to the last man; and the majority of the Saxons, smarting under the memory of the cruel oppression which they had suffered, the destruction of home and property, and the slaughter of friends and relations, would fain have exterminated their foes. King Alfred, however, thought otherwise.

Guthorn and the Danes had effected a firm settlement in East Anglia, and lived at amity with the Saxons there. They had, it is true, wrested from them the greatest portion of their lands. Still peace and order were now established. The Saxons were allowed liberty and equal rights. Intermarriages were taking place, and the two peoples were becoming welded into one. Alfred then considered that it would be well to have the king of this country as an ally; he and his settled people would soon be as hostile to further incursions of the Northmen as were the Saxons themselves, and their interests and those of Wessex would be identical.

Did he, on the other hand, carry out a general massacre of the Danes now in his power he might have brought upon England a fresh invasion of Northmen, who, next to plunder, loved revenge, and who might come over in great hosts to avenge the slaughter of their countrymen. Moved, then, by motives of policy as well as by compassion, he granted the terms they asked, and hostages having been sent in from the camp he ordered provisions to be supplied to the Danes.

The same night a messenger of rank came in from Guthorn saying that he intended to embrace Christianity. The news filled Alfred and the Saxons with joy. The king, a sincere and devoted Christian, had fought as much for his religion as for his kingdom, and his joy at the prospect of Guthorn's conversion, which would as a matter of course be followed by that of his subjects, was deep and sincere.

To the Saxons generally the temporal consequence of the conversion had no doubt greater weight than the spiritual. The conversion of Guthorn and the Danes would be a pledge far more binding than any oaths of alliance between the two kingdoms. Guthorn and his followers would be viewed with hostility by their countrymen, whose hatred of Christianity was intense, and East Anglia would, therefore, naturally seek the close alliance and assistance of its Christian neighbour.

Great were the rejoicings in the Saxon camp that night. Seldom, indeed, has a victory had so great and decisive an effect upon the future of a nation as that of Ethandune. Had the Saxons been crushed, the domination of the Danes in England would have been finally settled. Christianity would have been stamped out, and with it civilization, and the island would have made a backward step into paganism and barbarism which might have delayed her progress for centuries.

The victory established the freedom of Wessex, converted East Anglia into a settled and Christian country, and enabled King Alfred to frame the wise laws and statutes and to establish on a firm basis the institutions which raised Saxon England vastly in the scale of civilization, and have in no small degree affected the whole course of life of the English people.



CHAPTER XII: FOUR YEARS OF PEACE

Seven weeks afterwards Guthorn, accompanied by thirty of his noblest warriors, entered Alfred's camp, which was pitched at Aller, a place not far from Athelney. An altar was erected and a solemn service performed, and Guthorn and his companions were all baptized, Alfred himself becoming sponsor for Guthorn, whose name was changed to Athelstan. The Danes remained for twelve days in the Saxon camp. For the first eight they wore, in accordance with the custom of the times, the chrismal, a white linen cloth put on the head when the rite of baptism was performed; on the eighth day the solemn ceremony known as the chrism, the loosing or removal of the cloths, took place at Wedmore. This was performed by the Ealdorman Ethelnoth.

During these twelve days many conferences were held between Alfred and Athelstan as to the future of the two kingdoms. While the Danes were still in the camp a witenagemot or Saxon parliament was held at Wedmore. At this Athelstan and many of the nobles and inhabitants of East Anglia were present, and the boundary of the two kingdoms was settled. It was to commence at the mouth of the Thames, to run along the river Lea to its source, and at Bedford turn to the right along the Ouse as far as Watling Street. According to this arrangement a considerable portion of the kingdom of Mercia fell to Alfred's share.

The treaty comprehended various rules for the conduct of commerce, and courts were instituted for the trial of disputes and crimes. The Danes did not at once leave Mercia, but for a considerable time lay in camp at Cirencester; but all who refused to become Christians were ordered to depart beyond the seas, and the Danes gradually withdrew within their boundary.

Guthorn's conversion, although no doubt brought about at the moment by his admiration of the clemency of Alfred, had probably been for some time projected by him. Mingling as his people did in East Anglia with the Christian Saxons there, he must have had opportunities for learning the nature of their tenets, and of contrasting its mild and beneficent teaching with the savage worship of the pagan gods. By far the greater proportion of his people followed their king's example; but the wilder spirits quitted the country, and under their renowned leader Hasting sailed to harry the shores of France. The departure of the more turbulent portion of his followers rendered it more easy for the Danish king to carry his plans into effect.

After the holding of the witan Edmund and Egbert at once left the army with their followers, and for some months the young ealdorman devoted himself to the work of restoring the shattered homes of his people, aiding them with loans from the plunder he had gained on the seas, Alfred having at once repaid him the sums which he had lent at Athelney. As so many of his followers had also brought home money after their voyage, the work of rebuilding and restoration went on rapidly, and in a few months the marks left of the ravages by the Danes had been well-nigh effaced.

Flocks and herds again grazed in the pastures, herds of swine roamed in the woods, the fields were cultivated, and the houses rebuilt. In no part of Wessex was prosperity so speedily re-established as in the district round Sherborne governed by Edmund. The Dragon was thoroughly overhauled and repaired, for none could say how soon fresh fleets of the Northmen might make their appearance upon the southern shores of England. It was not long, indeed, before the Northmen reappeared, a great fleet sailing up the Thames at the beginning of the winter. It ascended as high as Fulham, where a great camp was formed. Seeing that the Saxons and East Anglians would unite against them did they advance further, the Danes remained quietly in their encampment during the winter, and in the spring again took ship and sailed for France.

For the next two years England enjoyed comparative quiet, the Danes turning their attention to France and Holland, sailing up the Maas, Scheldt, Somme, and Seine. Spreading from these rivers they carried fire and sword over a great extent of country. The Franks resisted bravely, and in two pitched battles defeated their invaders with great loss. The struggle going on across the Channel was watched with great interest by the Saxons, who at first hoped to see the Danes completely crushed by the Franks.

The ease, however, with which the Northmen moved from point to point in their ships gave them such immense advantage that their defeats at Hasle and Saucourt in no way checked their depredations. Appearing suddenly off the coast, or penetrating into the interior by a river, their hordes would land, ravage the country, slay all who opposed them, and carry off the women and children captives, and would then take to their ships again before the leaders of the Franks could assemble an army.

Alfred spent this time of repose in restoring as far as possible the loss and damage which his kingdom had suffered. Many wise laws were passed, churches were rebuilt, and order restored; great numbers of the monks and wealthier people who had fled to France in the days of the Danish supremacy now returned to England, which was for the time freer from danger than the land in which they had sought refuge; and many Franks from the districts exposed to the Danish ravages came over and settled in England.

Gradually the greater part of England acknowledged the rule of Alfred. The kingdom of Kent was again united to that of Wessex; while Mercia, which extended across the centre of England from Anglia to Wales, was governed for Alfred by Ethelred the Ealdorman, who was the head of the powerful family of the Hwiccas, and had received the hand of Alfred's daughter Ethelfleda. He ruled Mercia according to its own laws and customs, which differed materially from those of the West Saxons, and which prevented a more perfect union of the two kingdoms until William the Conqueror welded the whole country into a single whole. But Ethelred acknowledged the supremacy of Alfred, consulted him upon all occasions of importance, and issued all his edicts and orders in the king's name. He was ably assisted by Werfrith, the Bishop of Worcester. The energy and activity of these leaders enabled Mercia to keep abreast of Wessex in the onward progress which Alfred laboured so indefatigably to promote.

Edmund, when not occupied with the affairs of his earldom, spent much of his time with the king, who saw in him a spirit of intelligence and activity which resembled his own. Edmund was, however, of a less studious disposition than his royal master; and though he so far improved his education as to be able to read and write well, Alfred could not persuade him to undertake the study of Latin, being, as he said, well content to master some of the learning of that people by means of the king's translations.

At the end of another two years of peace Edmund was again called upon to take up arms. Although the Danes attempted no fresh invasion some of their ships hung around the English coast, capturing vessels, interfering with trade, and committing other acts of piracy.

Great complaints were made by the inhabitants of the seaports to Alfred. The king at once begged Edmund to fit out the Dragon, and collecting a few other smaller ships he took his place on Edmund's ship and sailed in search of the Danes. After some search they came upon the four large ships of the Northmen which had been a scourge to the coast.

The Saxons at once engaged them, and a desperate fight took place. The Dragon was laid alongside the largest of the Danish vessels; and the king, with Edmund and Egbert by his side, leapt on to the deck of the Danish vessel, followed by the crew of the Dragon. The Danish ship was crowded with men who fought desperately, but the discipline even more than the courage of Edmund's crew secured for them the victory. For a time each fought for himself; and although inspired by the presence of the king they were able to gain no advantage, being much out-numbered by the Northmen.

Edmund, seeing this, sounded on his horn the signal with which in battle he ordered the men to form their wedge. The signal was instantly obeyed. The Saxons were all fighting with boarding-pikes against the Northmen's swords and axes, for they had become used to these weapons and preferred them to any other.

The instant Edmund's horn was heard, each man desisted from fighting and rushed to their leader, around whom they instantly formed in their accustomed order. The Danes, astonished at the sudden cessation of the battle, and understanding nothing of the meaning of the signal or of the swift movement of the Saxons, for a minute lowered their weapons in surprise.

Before they again rushed forward the formation was complete, and in a close body with levelled spears the Saxons advanced, Egbert as usual leading the way, with Edmund and the king in the centre.

In vain the Danes strove to resist the onset; in spite of their superior numbers they were driven back step by step until crowded in a close mass at one end.

Still the Saxon line of spears pressed on. Many of the Danes leapt into the sea, others were pushed over or run through, and in a few minutes not a Northman remained alive in the captured vessel.

In the meantime the battle was raging in other parts. Two of the small vessels were engaged with one of the Danes at close quarters, while the other ships hung around the remaining Danish vessels and kept up volleys of arrows and javelins upon them.

The Dragon at once went to the assistance of the two Saxon ships, whose crews were almost overpowered by the Northmen. Laying the ship alongside, Edmund boarded the Danes. The Northmen rushed back from the decks of the Saxon ship to defend their own vessel; and the Saxons, regaining courage, at once rallied and followed them. The combat was short but desperate. Attacked on three sides, the Danes were speedily overcome and were slaughtered to a man.

An attack was next made upon the two remaining vessels. These resisted for some time, but they were overwhelmed by the missiles from the Saxon flotilla; and the greater portion of their crews being killed or wounded, their commanders prayed for mercy, which was granted them by Alfred; and with the four captured vessels the fleet returned to England.

On reaching port Alfred begged Edmund to continue for a while with the Dragon, to cruise along the coasts and to stop the depredations of the Danes; and for some weeks the Dragon kept the seas. She met with considerable success, capturing many Danish galleys. Some of these contained rich spoil, which had been gathered in France, for cruising in the seas off Dover Edmund intercepted many of the Danish vessels on their homeward way from raids up the Seine, Garonne, and other French rivers.

One day in the excitement of a long pursuit of a Danish galley, which finally succeeded in making her escape, Edmund had paid less attention than usual to the weather, and, on giving up the chase as hopeless, perceived that the sky had become greatly overcast, while the wind was rising rapidly.

"We are in for a storm from the north, Egbert," he said, "and we must make for the mouth of the Thames for shelter."

The sails were lowered, and the Dragon's head turned west. Before two hours had passed the sea had risen so greatly that it was no longer possible to row.

"What had we best do?" Edmund asked the chief of the sailors. "Think you that we can make Dover and shelter under the cliffs there?"

"I fear that we cannot do so," the sailor replied, "for there are terrible sands and shallows off the Kentish coast between the mouth of the Thames and Dover, and the wind blows so strongly that we can do nought but run before it."

"Then let us do so," Edmund replied; "anything is better than being tossed at the mercy of the waves."

A sail was hoisted, and the Dragon flew along before the wind. The storm increased in fury, and for some hours the vessel ran before it. She was but a short distance from the French coast, and as the wind veered round more to the west her danger became great.

"I fear we shall be cast ashore," Edmund said to the sailor.

"Fortunately," the man answered, "we are but a mile or two from the mouth of the Seine, and there we can run in and take shelter."

It was an anxious time until they reached the mouth of the river, for they were continually drifting nearer and nearer to the coast. However, they cleared the point in safety, and, turning her head, ran up the river and soon anchored under the walls of Havre. As she came to an anchor armed men were seen crowding the walls.

"They take us for Danes," Egbert said. "We had best hoist the Dragon, and they will then know that we are a Saxon ship."

Soon after the flag was hoisted the gates of the town were seen to open, and an officer and some men issued out. These launched a boat and rowed out to the ship. The officer mounted to the deck. He was evidently in considerable fear, but as he saw the Saxons standing about unarmed he was reassured. "Is this really a Saxon ship," he asked, "as its flag testifies?"

"It is so," Edmund replied; "it is my vessel, and I am an ealdorman of King Alfred. We have been chasing the Danish pirates, but this storm having arisen, we were blown down the French coast and forced to seek shelter here."

"The governor bids you welcome," the officer said, "and bade me invite you to land."

"That will I gladly; the more so since my ship has suffered some damage in the gale, her bulwarks having been partly shattered; and it will need a stay of a few days here to repair her for sea. Will you tell the governor that in a short time I will land with my kinsman Egbert and accept his hospitality?"

An hour later Edmund and Egbert landed and were at once conducted to the governor, who welcomed them cordially.

They found there many whom they had known at the court of King Alfred. The wealthier men, the bishops and thanes, had for the most part journeyed to Paris or to other towns in the interior to escape the dreaded Northmen; but there were many detained at Havre from want of funds to journey farther.

"It is a sad pity," the governor said as they talked over the troubled state of Western Europe, "that your English king and our Frankish monarch did not make common cause against these sea robbers. They are the enemies of mankind. Not only do they ravage all our coasts, but they have entered the Mediterranean, and have plundered and ravaged the coasts of Provence and Italy, laying towns under ransom, burning and destroying."

"I would that I could meet some of their ships on their way back from Italy," Edmund said. "I warrant that we should obtain a rare booty, with gems of art such as would delight King Alfred, but are thrown away on these barbarians; but I agree with you that 'tis shameful that the coasts of all Europe should be overrun with these pirates."

"Yes," the governor replied, "if every country in Christendom would unite against their common foe, and send a quota of ships and men, we would drive the Black Raven from the seas, and might even land on the Danish shores and give them a taste of the suffering they have inflicted elsewhere. As it is, all seem paralysed. Local efforts are made to resist them; but their numbers are too great to be thus withstood. I wonder that the pope does not call Christendom to arms against these pagan robbers, who not only destroy towns and villages, but level to the ground the holy shrines, and slay the ministers of God on the altars."



CHAPTER XIII: THE SIEGE OF PARIS

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.



CHAPTER XIV: THE REPULSE OF THE NORSEMEN

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What miracle is this?" the count exclaimed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The flames rapidly spread from the gates to the walls, which were all of wood, and soon the whole were a sheet of flames. The little band of defenders retreated on to the end of the bridge, and there, when the flames had sufficiently abated to allow them to pass, the Northmen attacked them. Edmund and Egbert were both good swimmers, but this was an accomplishment which but few of the Franks possessed, and none of the remnant of the garrison were able to swim. For a long time the little band repulsed all the efforts of the Danes, but were gradually driven back foot by foot until they reached the edge of the chasm. Here they made a last desperate stand, but were at length cut down or driven over by sheer weight of numbers. Egbert and Edmund had disencumbered themselves of all their defensive armour, and at the last moment, throwing off their helmets and relinquishing their spears, they plunged into the stream, diving deeply to avoid the arrows of the Northmen.

The fact of the river being in flood, which had caused the destruction of the tower, now proved the cause of their safety. Had the water been clear, the Danes on the bridge above could have marked their progress and poured a storm of arrows upon them as they came to the surface; but its yellow and turbid waters concealed them from sight, and each time they rose to the surface for air they were enabled to take a rapid breath and dive again before their enemies could direct and launch their arrows at them.

As they drifted far down the stream, they reached the land beyond bowshot of the Danes, and they soon entered the town amid the loud acclamations of the citizens. The Danes now for the most part drew off from the neighbourhood, and the Abbe Ebble led out a sortie, which reached the Danish camp, and driving back those whom they found within it, set it on fire and effected their retreat to Paris without loss, in spite of the efforts of the enemy, who rapidly assembled at the sight of the flames.

The Danes had brought in from the surrounding country such vast quantities of cattle, sheep, and goats, that their camps would not suffice to hold them, and they turned the church of St. Germain into a stable and crowded it with these animals. The saint, as the Abbe D'Abbon relates, indignant at this desecration, sent a terrible plague among the cattle, and when the Danes in the morning entered the church it contained nothing but carcasses in the last state of decomposition.

The valiant defence of Paris had given time for the rest of France to arm, and the Danes scattered over the country now met with a stout resistance. The Northmen were defeated in their efforts to capture Le Mans, Chartres, and other towns, and were defeated in several battles near Chartres by Godefroi and Odon.

In March Henri advanced with a strong force to the relief of Paris, and arriving at night attacked the camp of the Danes, slew great numbers, and captured a vast booty; and then, having supplied Paris with a considerable amount of provisions, retired with his band before the Danes had time to assemble in sufficient strength to oppose him. Shortly afterwards the Danes expressed the desire of Siegfroi to hold parley with the Count Eudes. Siegfroi and a number of his warriors landed, and Eudes left the city and advanced to meet them. No sooner had he reached them than he was attacked by the Northmen, but drawing his sword he defended himself with immense bravery until the garrison ran down to his succour, and the Danes were driven back to their ship with loss of nearly half of their party.

The Danes now left the church of St. Germain L'Auxerrois and surrounded the monastery of St. Germain des Pres, but the monks there paid him sixty pounds of pure silver to leave them in peace. Siegfroi now wished to abandon the siege which had already cost him so dear, but the Northmen, furious at their losses, determined upon another assault.

"Very well," the king said; "have your way then. Attack Paris on all sides, hew down its towers, and make breaches in its walls; for once I will remain a spectator."

The Danes crossed the river and landed on the island, but owing to the absence of large numbers on other expeditions, and the heavy losses which they had suffered, their numbers were no longer so overwhelming, and Count Eudes led out his forces to oppose them outside the walls. This time Edmund headed his band of Saxons, who until now had only taken part as archers in the defence.

The combat was a furious one. In spite of the valour of Eudes and Ebble the Danes pressed hard upon the Franks, and were driving them back towards the gates when Edmund led his Saxons, in the close phalanx in which they had so often met the Danes in the field, to the front. With irresistible force the wedge burst its way through the ranks of the Danes, bearing all before it with its wedge of spears. Into the gap thus formed Eudes and Ebble with their bravest men threw themselves, and the Danes, severed in two, were driven back towards their ships. But for some hours the rain had been falling heavily and the river was rapidly rising and had already overflowed a portion of the island. Thus the Danes had great difficulty in getting on board their ships again, and great numbers were killed in doing so.

There was no longer any resistance to Siegfroi's wishes. A parley was held with the city, and a further sum being added to that contributed by the monks of St. Germain des Pres the Danes drew off from the town.

At this time the long confinement of so many men within the walls had caused a pestilence to break out in Paris. The Archbishop Goslin, the Bishop Everard of Sens, the Prince Hugues, and many others died. The 16th of April was the day on which the Parisians were accustomed to go in solemn procession to the church of St. Germain. The Northmen, knowing this, in mockery filled a wagon with grain and organized a mock procession. The bullocks who drew the chariot suddenly became lame; numbers of other bullocks were attached, but although goaded by spears their united efforts were unable to drag the wagon an inch, and the Danes were obliged at last to abandon their intention.

The same day St. Germain is reported to have further shown his power. One of the Northmen, condemned for some offence to be executed, fled to the church for refuge, and was there slain by his countrymen; but all who took part in the deed at once fell dead. The Northmen, struck by these miracles, placed a certain number as guard over the church to prevent any from touching aught that it contained. One of these men, a Dane of great stature, spread his bed in the church and slept there; but to the astonishment of his comrades he was found in the morning to have shrunk to the size of a new-born infant, at which stature he remained for the rest of his life.

A miracle of an opposite kind was at the same time performed in the town. A valiant warrior had from the effects of fever fallen into an extreme weakness, and was devoured with grief at the thought that he should no longer be able to take share in the defence of the town. To him St. Germain appeared at night and told him that his prayers had been heard, and that his strength should be restored to him. On awakening in the morning he found that he was as vigorous and as robust as ever.

Another day when the soldiers were carrying the banner of the saint round the walls of the town, followed by the citizens chanting hymns, one of the bearers of the holy relics, named Gozbert, was struck by a stone from a catapult. The man who had fired it fell dead, while Gozbert continued his promenade in no way injured by the blow. The Abbe D'Abbon vouches for these miracles on the part of St. Germain in defence of his faithful city.



CHAPTER XV: FRIENDS IN TROUBLE

Although for a time the Northmen abstained from grand assaults, continued skirmishes took place. Sometimes parties landed beneath the walls, and strove to carry off the cattle which the besieged turned out to gather a little fresh food there. Sometimes the citizens, led by Eudes or Ebble, would take boat and cross, and endeavour to cut off small parties of the enemy. They had now sufficient boats at their disposal for expeditions of this kind; for, in their last defeat, the Danes had in their haste left several boats behind them. Of one of the largest of these Edmund took possession, and going out in her at night, several times succeeded in capturing Danish vessels, sometimes while they were rowing along the river unsuspicious that any foes were near, sometimes by boarding them as they lay alongside the bank.

As the vessels so captured were too large to be dragged ashore, and could have been easily recaptured by the Danes, they were, after being emptied of their contents, always burned. The plague continued its ravages, and the city became straitened for provisions. Count Eudes therefore determined to go to King Charles to urge him to hurry to the succour of the town. Almost all the chiefs of the defence had fallen victims to the pest, or had been killed in battle with the Danes, and the count at his departure committed the defence of the city to the Abbe Ebble and Edmund. He then crossed the stream at night, and made his way successfully through the Danes.

The abbe and Edmund vied with each other in keeping up the spirits of the garrison with successful little forays with the Danes, frequently crossing the river to the one bank or the other, sometimes with parties of only five or six men, and falling upon similar bodies of the enemy. Several times they pounced upon small herds of the enemy's cattle, and driving them into the river, directed them in their boats across the stream.

In the commencement of July Eudes appeared on the slopes on Mont Martre with three battalions of soldiers. The enemy, who were for the most part on the other side of the Seine, crossed the river. A desperate battle ensued. A portion of the garrison crossed in boats to the assistance of their friends, Edmund leading over his band of Saxons. With these he fell upon the rear of the Danes engaged in fighting with the force under the count, and the Northmen, attacked on both sides, gave way and took to flight. They were hotly pursued by the Franks.

The reinforcements entered Paris triumphantly by the bridge, which had long since been repaired. But the siege was not yet over. When the news of the victory of Eudes spread, the Danes again drew together from all parts, and crossing the river, attacked the city on every side. The onslaught was more furious than any which had preceded it. The Danes had provided themselves with large numbers of mangonels and catapults. Every man capable of bearing arms was upon the walls; but so furious was the attack, so vast the number of the assailants, so prodigious were the clouds of missiles which they rained upon the walls, that the besieged almost lost heart.

The relics of St. Genevieve were taken round the walls. In several places the Danes had formed breaches in the walls, and although the besieged still struggled, hope had well-nigh left them, and abject terror reigned in the city. Women ran about the streets screaming, and crying that the end was at hand. The church bells tolled dismally, and the shouts of the exultant Danes rose higher and higher. Again a general cry rose to St. Germain to come to the aid of the town. Just at this moment Edmund and Egbert, who had till now held the Saxons in reserve, feeling that a desperate effort must be made, formed up their band, and advancing to the principal breach, passed through the ranks of the disheartened Franks, and with levelled pikes charged headlong down into the crowd of Danes. The latter, already exhausted by their efforts, were at once borne back before the serried pikes of their fresh assailants. In vain their chiefs at that point tried to rally them; nothing could withstand the impetus of the Saxon attack.

Astonished at seeing the tide of battle swept away from the breach, the French believed that St. Germain had wrought a miracle in their favour, and taking heart poured out in the rear of the Saxons. The news of the miracle spread rapidly. Through the breaches, and from every gate, they poured out suddenly upon the Danes, who, struck with consternation at this sudden onslaught by a foe whom they had already regarded as beaten, hesitated, and soon took to flight. Vast numbers were cut down before they could reach their vessels. A great portion fled towards the bridge and endeavoured to cross there; but their numbers impeded them, and the Saxons and Franks, falling upon their rear, effected a terrible slaughter.

Two days after the battle a force of six hundred Franks arrived from the Emperor Charles. The Danes sought to oppose their entrance to the city, but were defeated with a loss of three thousand men. The siege was now virtually over, and in a short time the emperor himself with a great army arrived. It was now November, and after some negotiations the Danes agreed upon the receipt of seven hundred pounds of silver to retire to Burgundy and to leave the country at the beginning of March.

Having wasted Burgundy, however, they again returned to Paris. Consternation seized the capital when the fleet of the Northmen was seen approaching. A treaty was, however, made, for the wind had fallen just when the Danish fleet, which had but lately arrived and was descending the river, was abreast of Paris. As soon as the wind became favourable the Northmen broke the truce, slew a number of Franks who had mingled among them, and passed up the Marne.

In the meantime Emperor Charles had died and Count Eudes had been chosen his successor. When the Danes again advanced against Paris he speedily sent reinforcements. The town had already repulsed an attack. Eudes himself on St. John's Day was advancing with 1000 men-at-arms when he was attacked by 10,000 mounted Danes and 9000 footmen. The combat was desperate but the Franks were victorious. Eudes, however, had other difficulties. Burgundy and Aquitaine revolted, and in order to secure peace to the kingdom he made a treaty with the Danes, giving over to them the province of Normandy.

Edmund and Egbert had no part in the second siege of Paris. As soon as the place was relieved by the Emperor Charles they prepared to depart. Taking boats they ascended the river, and to their joy found the Dragon safe in the hiding place where she had been lying for nearly a year. She was brought out into the stream and floated down to Paris, where by the order of Count Eudes she was thoroughly repaired and redecorated.

The Franks, convinced that next only to the assistance of St. Germain they owed the safety of their city to the valour of the Saxons, loaded them with presents; and these, with the gifts which they had previously received after the destruction of the three towers, and the sums for which the booty captured from the Danes had been sold, made up a great treasure.

Upon the day before they had arranged to sail a Danish boat was seen rowing down the stream. It approached the Dragon and the helmsman asked:

"Is this ship the Dragon? and has it for a captain Edmund the Saxon?"

"I am Edmund," he replied, "and this is the Dragon. What would you with me?"

"I am sent by the Jarl Siegbert, who lies wounded near, to beg that you will come to him immediately, as he is in a sore strait and needs your assistance."

"I will come at once," Edmund said. "Put one of your men on board to show me where he is, for I shall be there before you."

Edmund's horn sounded the signal, and messengers were sent to the town to order the crew at once to repair on board the Dragon. Edmund landed and took leave of the Frankish leaders. The provisions and stores were hastily carried on board, and then, amidst the enthusiastic cheers of the inhabitants, who thronged the walls and shore, the oars were got out and the Dragon proceeded at the top of her speed up the river.

On the way Edmund questioned the Dane, and found that Siegbert had been wounded in the last assault upon Paris. He had not been present at the first part of the siege, having but recently arrived from Norway. His daughter Freda had accompanied him. "Yes," she was still unmarried, although many valiant Northmen had sought her hand, chief among them the brave leader Sweyn "of the left hand;" but there had been a fray on the previous night in Siegbert's camp, and it was said—but for that he could not vouch—that Freda had been carried off.