Five days had been spent in these labours, and on the fifth day—that is to say, the next day after the fall of the square tower of the corner—the curtain near the north gate was undermined for a length of thirty paces. The stays and props were set on fire during the night, and in the morning the curtain sank down into the fosse, separating into two masses. The Franks immediately threw a quantity of fascines into the fosse, brought ladders, and rushed in great numbers on the ruined wall, which still rose about six feet above the interior level of the cité. The Burgundians, taken by surprise, could scarcely offer any resistance to this escalade, and their efforts were at most confined to hindering the assailants from crossing the breach. The position of the defenders was one of the most unfavourable that can be imagined, especially as they had raised no retrenchment at this point. They barricaded themselves, however—making use of the houses, and hurling a quantity of projectiles from the top of the neighbouring tower upon the assailants; and the struggle was prolonged. Then it was that Secondinus sent workmen to destroy the ceiling of the mine gallery, A, which terminated on the inside of the wall. In four hours this was effected, and the besieged saw a large hole on their left. In a few seconds this gaping orifice poured forth a stream of enemies, who spread themselves along the wall, outflanked the defenders, and hurried towards the gate to burst it open.
The guard that defended this gate were massacred, and the doors being smashed with axes and battering-rams, fresh troops were enabled to get into the city. The town was taken, but the conflict was being kept up in the streets and houses. Night came on, and the defenders of the retrenchment, perceiving that the enemy had got round them, had retired in haste towards the interior of the cité.
The Franks no longer gave ear to the orders of their chief, but rushed in small bands into every opening that presented itself, burning, killing, and pillaging; many of them fell in with numerous bodies of the besieged and met their death.
The women, mad with fury, threw tiles, furniture, logs of wood, and stones upon the Franks dispersed in the streets. As most of the houses were of timber, the fire, fanned by a wind from the west, spread rapidly in every direction. Besiegers and besieged fought till they were surrounded with flames. It was a series of isolated struggles, in which the voices of the chiefs on either side were unable to make themselves heard.
Gondomar, with about a thousand men, had taken refuge in the castle; and from the summit of its towers the Burgundian king could see his faithful cité burning, and hear the shouts of the victors and the vanquished approaching nearer and nearer the walls of this last retreat. He had been unwilling to close the gates, that he might gather in the unfortunate defenders; and towards the end of the night these, driven into the southern extremity of the cité by the enemy and the fire, began then to arrive in crowds, many being wounded, and among them women and children. The castle was being filled, and the enemy was approaching; so the bridge was thrown into the fosse and the gates were shut.
Engrossed with pillage, the Franks allowed the day which succeeded this disastrous night to pass by without attempting anything against the castle; and not before evening could the Frank king restore any degree of order in the burning cité.
There were not enough provisions in the castle to feed its numerous occupants for forty hours. This was just what Secondinus anticipated; accordingly he had no difficulty in persuading the Frank king to rest content with investing the stronghold. Gondomar, overwhelmed with grief, and seeing his helplessness, sought death by throwing himself from the top of one of the towers. The fugitives were forced to surrender at discretion, and most of them were carried away into slavery.
The Frank kings destroyed the most important of the defensive works, so as to render the cité Juliana incapable of sustaining a siege. But those Roman works were massive; and two centuries afterwards the remains of the towers and ramparts still presented an imposing mass of ruins. The plateau was then a waste, and the ruins were overgrown with a luxuriant vegetation; only a few shepherds' huts were to be seen in this desolated region. On the western declivity, between the river and the ancient ramparts, extended a poor little town, whose population did not amount to more than twelve or fifteen hundred souls.