847. “The Danes come into the lower parts of Gaul inhabited by the Bretons, and gain a victory over them in three battles. Noménoe, vanquished, flees with his men, and then, by presents sent, leads them to leave his country....”
859. “The Danish pirates having made a long circuit by sea, for they had sailed between Spain and Africa, enter the Rhone, plunder many cities and monasteries, and establish themselves in the island called Camargue.”
860. “Those of these Danes who had established themselves on the Rhone came, ravaging on their way to the city of Valentia; then, having plundered all the neighbouring regions, returned to the island where they had taken up their abode.”
“The Danes on the Rhone go towards Italy, take and plunder Pisa and other cities....”
We might give many more extracts from the Annals of St. Bertin and the Annals of Metz; but the above will suffice to show that in the latter part of the 9th century these Northmen were carrying their incursions, with hundreds of ships and thousands of men, all over Europe, ascending its great rivers, ravaging its coasts, marching through and then settling in its countries, and levying tribute from the people.
In the Narrative of Abbon, we have a striking and graphic description, by an eye-witness, of one of the Sieges of Paris by the Northmen, which lasted from November 885 to May 887. The special value of the narrative to us lies in the minute description which it contains of the methods adopted by the Vikings in attacking a town or fortress. Abbon begins by describing the arrival of the fleet of the Northmen in the river.
“Thy (Paris’s) blood was poured out by these barbarians, who came on board of seven hundred sailing vessels, and innumerable smaller ships commonly called barques. The deep-water bed of the Seine was so covered by them that its waters could not be seen for a space of more than six miles: one asked with astonishment in what cave the river had hidden itself; it could not be seen; the pine, the oak, and the alder entirely concealed its surface.”
“The Danes then make, astonishing to see, three huge machines, mounted on sixteen wheels—monsters made of immense oak trees bound together; upon each was placed a battering ram, covered with a high roof—in the interior and on the sides of which could be placed and concealed, they said, sixty men armed with their helmets. The besiegers had already finished one of these machines of suitable form and size; a second was soon made, and they were at work on a third; but from the tower they shot accurately, with the whole force of the bowstring and javelin against the workers on them. Thus they were the first to receive the death they were preparing for us; and when one of these cruel machines was destroyed, the other soon followed.
“From the hide torn from the neck and back of young bulls, the Danes then made a thousand large bucklers, which a Latin writer would call pluteos[[453]] or crates,[[454]] each one of which would cover four or six men even. During the night, the enemy gave themselves no rest, and not a moment of sleep; they sharpened, repaired, and forged swift missiles, strengthened their old shields, and made new ones.... (At sunrise) suddenly the Danes, the progeny of Satan, armed with their formidable missiles, rushed furiously from their camp, and like light bees, ran toward the tower. Born for our misfortune, they advanced with their backs bent under the bows; the missiles quiver on their shoulders, their swords cover the ground, their shields hide from sight the waters of the Seine; thousands of leaden balls, scattered like a thick hail in the air, fall upon the city, and powerful catapults thunder upon the forts which defend the bridge. Mars, reawaking his fury, extends in every direction his fierce empire. The citizens are terrified, the trumpets give forth violent bursts, and fear seizes on those who guard the towers. Still there were seen many great and bold men; above all, the prelate Gozlio shone conspicuous; then his nephew, the brave Abbé Ebble; admirable also were Robert, Eudes, Ragenaire, Ulton, Herilang; all these were counts; but the most noble of all was Eudes, who laid low as many Danes as he threw javelins....”
January 29, 886.—“The fierce Dane divided his army into three bodies, ranged in the form of a wedge. The largest he opposed to the tower, and the two others, borne on painted ships, he directed against the bridge; thinking that, if he could gain possession of the bridge, the tower would soon be in his power.... The tower, reddened with blood, groans under the blows which strike it.... At its base are seen at a distance only the painted shields which cover the ground and hide it from sight; in every direction can be seen only the fatal stones and cruel missiles which fly in the air like dense swarms of bees; the sky itself between the tower and the clouds is obscured by them. Loud cries are heard, and everywhere reigns the greatest fear, amid terrible noises. Some attack, others resist: and the Northmen, clashing their arms, add to the already cruel horrors of battle. No child of earth has ever laid eyes upon so many warriors on foot, armed with swords, moving in a single body, under a painted testudo[[455]] of such immense size. The Danes made of this testudo a roof which sheltered them but none dared to raise his head above its protection, though beneath it their weapons caused a frightful slaughter.... The fierce nation approached the desolated tower, under the cover of their large bucklers made of wood and the skins of freshly killed bulls; some pass the night under arms, others sleep, others scour the roads, shooting their feathered arrows, from which is dropped poison.”