Messire Charles d'Amboise, standing on the breach, a b, was continually sending reinforcements to the assailants, and when he saw his people too fatigued he would replace them by fresh troops. The Burgundians had not enough men to do the like, so that about four o'clock they were exhausted, and some were beginning to file off along the ramparts. At length a vigorous effort forced the centre of the retrenchment, and the French pushed forward through the street running along the old wall of the abbey. The Sire de Montcler, however, retreated in good order in three columns, two along the ramparts, and the third by the road in the middle. When he saw his men sheltered behind the second retrenchment, he discharged the pierrier placed at M, and the culverin mounted at I, so that the assailants fell back in disorder. Then, followed by some brave men—his last reserve—he fell on the French coming along by the abbey and the western rampart. From the top of this rampart the assailants were also exposed to a shower of darts. Night was advancing: the brave men who had kept close to the governor were urging forward, attempting to recapture the first retrenchment. Many of the Burgundians who had retired behind the second retrenchment, seeing the enemy fall back, began to issue forth in their turn, filled with fresh ardour.
Messire Charles d'Amboise, however, was able to keep his troops at the first retrenchment, and had some small pieces brought up which fired on the groups of Burgundians who were still distinguishable in the torchlight.
The combat lasted thus for two hours more, in the midst of confusion, and the Sire de Montcler was obliged to sound the retreat several times to rally his troops.
In this engagement he had lost nearly five hundred men taken, killed, or wounded. About ten o'clock at night there was silence on both sides; the Sire de Montcler, retreating to the second retrenchment, sent back all his men who had remained on the ramparts beyond this retrenchment, and prepared to defend this last line vigorously—the castle being his only refuge should that be taken. But on reviewing his troops, he observed the absence of a body of five hundred Germans, whom he had posted in the abbey to protect the retreat of the defenders of the first retrenchment.
These Germans, seeing the unfavourable position of affairs, and taking advantage of the general confusion during the last struggle, had gone away through the abbey postern.
The governor had only a thousand men remaining. He endeavoured to persuade his men that the Germans were shut up in the castle by his orders; but few were deceived by this, for it was evident to all that after the taking of the corner tower the Germans scarcely cared to fight for a cause which had no great interest for them, and which they regarded as lost.
The fate of these runaways was, by the way, miserable enough. To support themselves they took to plundering in the outskirts, were surprised by a corps of French gendarmerie employed as scouts round the camp, and put to the sword or hanged as thieves. The few who succeeded in escaping perished under the blows of the peasants in arms against marauders.
It seemed hard to the Sire de Montcler to abandon his second retrenchment without awaiting an attack; so as he had scarcely any need to economise the provisions in the town, he had a double ration distributed to his men, and encouraged them by cheering words, preserving his animation in mien and gesture when among them. He told them that succour would soon arrive, and that if they resisted a few days longer Charles d'Amboise would be obliged to raise the siege.
Having examined the retrenchment, and posted men in the houses behind and in the northern building of the abbey, the Sire de Montcler was preparing to take some repose, when he was informed that along the slopes, above the bridge, the sentinels posted on the boulevards thought they perceived some movement on the part of the enemy. He went immediately towards that quarter, and saw in effect a black mass that appeared to be advancing up the slope like the rising tide, opposite to the boulevard, B.[See [Fig. 48].]
To summon the garrison of the castle and to draw them up in this boulevard—they were only two hundred in number—required only a few minutes. The escarpment of this boulevard, whose platform was on the level of the castle ditch, rose but slightly above the acclivities (about twelve feet). Before the assailant had placed his ladders, the governor fired on that moving mass, which the darkness of the night did not completely hide from view. The balls from the culverin and the bombards made furrows among them; shouts were heard, and the assailants, separating into two columns, set up their ladders on the two flanks of the boulevard.