Annals of a Fortress

by Eugène-Emmanuel Viollet-le-Duc

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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