Attila and His Conquerors: A Story of the Days of St. Patrick and St. Leo the Great

by Elizabeth Rundle Charles

The voyage had been a great rest and happiness to Ethne. The beauty of the wooded hills clothed with trees, many of them new to her—chestnuts, maples, and poplars; the vineyards with their promise of grapes, and the cultivated fields, delighted her. Here and there also in the cliffs under which they passed were arched doors of caves, which she imagined might be cells of holy hermits or monks like Martin.

When they came to Orleans they found the city in a tumult of apprehension. The walls were carefully guarded, and also the approaches by the river. Soldiers in Roman armour stopped them at the landing-place and forbade them to disembark.

“We do not want any more helpless people to guard or any more hungry mouths to feed,” they said.

It was an anxious moment; if they were turned back there was no other place of refuge. But suddenly Ethne remembered the letter the monk of Tours had given them for Anianus the Bishop. She reminded Baithene, and they told Miriam and Eleazar, who had heard the name of Anianus, and eagerly caught at this means of escape. They handed the tablet to the officer of the guard, and after a little further parley he agreed to let them land, and to have them conducted to the Bishop. Eleazar remained on the quay in charge of his precious merchandise. It was a reversal of relations for Ethne and Baithene to become the patrons and protectors of Eleazar and Miriam.

The Bishop was, as was so often the case in those tumultuous times, also the secular ruler (at all events in the moment of danger), and in a sense the military commander, as well as the spiritual head of the city; the representative of the only organization out of the ancient Roman world of law and order which remained substantially standing.

The name of Anianus was their passport everywhere. When after some delay they were admitted to his presence, it was a matter of no small difficulty, in many ways, to explain their complicated relation to each other and to the world in general. Captive princes or nobles of any kind from Ireland had something of a mythical sound, as if they had dropped out of fairyland, or some old legend, or some far-off fabled Atlantis. That these high-born captives should be also Christians was still more perplexing, the fact of Patrick’s mission having scarcely yet penetrated to Orleans. To expect Ethne or Baithene to define what kind of Christians they were was quite hopeless, they being in blissful ignorance of all heresies and schisms, Eastern or Western, Pelagian, Arian, Nestorian, Eutychian, or Manichean. Then came the other side of the perplexity, their being purchased by a Jew. An Edict of Theodosius had indeed many years before recognized an essential distinction between Jews and Pagans, and had decreed that the Jewish worship was to be respected, and that the Jewish synagogues were not to be destroyed. But that a Jew should own a Catholic Christian as a slave was a questionable thing. Slavery indeed, altogether, was to the Christian Church a questionable right, indeed essentially an unquestionable wrong. But according to Roman law, as an actual fact, it had to be admitted. Not long before, in Gaul, a free woman taken captive and made a slave, though the injustice was admitted, had to be left in bondage. Manumission had always been frequent among the Romans; the redemption of slaves and captives was a constant form of charitable work in the Church; but in the present distress there were no funds at hand for ransom, and, moreover, it must have seemed doubtful whether it would be any gain to these young friendless foreigners, especially to the fair young Irish maiden, to turn them adrift free and unprotected into the world of bloodshed and disorder, of violence and wickedness of every kind around them.

After much kindly consideration, it was decided that quarters should be assigned to the four, and that the question of freedom or slavery should be left in abeyance. But to Baithene’s great joy the condition was added, that no idle hands could be tolerated in the city, threatened as it was with siege and assault from the fierce hordes of Attila, who were fast advancing to cross the Loire, and make a raid on the kingdom of the Visigoths in Aquitaine.

That evening, therefore, the four were established in rooms near the walls of the city, with a sense of freedom for Ethne and Baithene greater than they had felt since they had been swept away from their home. The reversal of relations between the captives and their purchaser, though at first exceedingly displeasing to Eleazar, proved, thanks to the tender pity of Miriam, and the sweet serviceableness of Ethne, a bond of union; Baithene also being naturally ready to render in a princely way twice as much service as he would have done by constraint. Eleazar himself, moreover, was much softened when he saw that their honour was more to be trusted than the security of bonds.

The stipulation imposed on Baithene was no child’s play. Very soon the flames of burning villages were to be seen from the walls; then came troops of fugitives flying to take refuge in the country beyond the river, the citizens not daring to extend their hospitality to helpless, hungry strangers, who might not only find the walls of Orleans no shelter for themselves, but make the defence hopeless for all.

Night and day the walls had to be manned and guarded, and the fortifications strengthened as far as possible. Excursions had to be made into the neighbouring country to gather in fruits and corn and cattle while yet there was time to save anything from the plundering of the savage hosts. Thus between carrying stones for building, convoying expeditions for foraging, and guarding the walls, Baithene had little time at home, and was well content with such morsels of food or moments of broken sleep as could be snatched at intervals during his labours. The habits of command and direction, the training of hand and eye in chase, or foray, or skirmish among the clans at home, had given him faculties for military service which were soon recognized. He had a quickness in seeing and seizing opportunities, and a dash of daring courage which delighted the Roman officers, whilst to him the training in the Roman discipline was of the highest price.