Chapter X: The Fourth Siege (1)

The Duke of Burgundy was making all speed to reduce his vassal. In the space of a fortnight he had gathered six or seven thousand men, and was beginning his march. Anseric and Baron Guy had not failed to make the most of this respite. They provisioned the castle for three months at least. They fabricated four large trebuchets and half-a-dozen catapults. Timber in sufficient quantity had been cut in the forest for making hoardings, palisades, and wooden defences. Thirty stone-cutters were constantly at work making projectiles of sixty and a hundred pounds weight for the mangonels. Each workman could produce ten in a day, and at the end of a fortnight they had amassed a store of four thousand five hundred. In the town, cross-bows and quarrels were being made; for the townsmen who had to render service were bound to come armed, equipped, and provided with missiles in sufficient quantity. There were archers also, for whom arrows of ashwood, bows of yew, and cords of long-fibred hemp were being made.

Although the lord of Roche-Pont could not, as stated above, assemble more than eighteen hundred men, and therefore could not contemplate defending the whole plateau--that is to say, the castle and the abbey--Baron Guy, who had reasons for it, urged him not to allow the enemy to occupy the monastery without defending it, even were it feebly. "You ought to defend the monastery," he would say to his nephew, "whenever the interests of the suzerain are involved; and since henceforth you are going to do homage for your fief to the king of France, he is your suzerain; his interests, therefore, are involved, and it is your duty to defend the abbey."

To this specious reasoning Anseric could find nothing to answer. The northern wall of the abbey was therefore put in a state of defence; they connected its north-east angle with the _débris_ of the Roman wall still existing on the edge of the plateau by a strong palisade and ditch, and barricaded the western brow above the town, between the abbey and the bailey of the castle.

The abbot had made a show of opposing these works, asserting with reason that the abbey was not at war with the Duke of Burgundy, and did not refuse its customary homage. But Baron Guy, as an old crusader, was a casuist of the first order, and, relying on the letter of the charter, maintained that the lord of Roche-Pont was fighting for the cause of his suzerain, and that consequently he must be faithful to the stipulations respecting the abbey. These debates did not stop the workmen; and although the abbot had sent for his vassals with a view to guard the monastery, they were in no hurry to obey his summons, believing that they were not in a condition to resist Anseric's vassals, and preferring to await the result of what was being done before taking any side.

The baron also had a trench dug from the south-east angle of the abbey wall to the eastern ridge of the plateau; then he had the trench covered with timbers and faggots, and the turf replaced above it, so as to leave no external sign of its existence. Outside the barbican of the castle and the ditch was raised a strong palisade which protected its circumference, leaving between it and the wall a space of twenty paces, and which gave lists thirty paces wide in front of the counterscarp of the ditch.

The twenty-second day after Anseric's answer (the 5th of May), the duke's troops appeared on the plateau before the abbey. The first comers spread themselves in the town, and were beginning to plunder it, when the duke interposed, and, contrary to his wont, gave orders that the inhabitants and their property should be respected. Listening to wise counsels for once, he was intending to separate the interests of Anseric's vassals from those of their lord, to isolate the latter, and thus subdue him more easily. So that very evening he issued a proclamation by sound of trumpet through the whole town, to the effect that he was attacking the lord of Roche-Pont only, who had been declared a felon for having broken his fealty to the Duke of Burgundy; that the inhabitants of the town and of the valley would be respected as long as they did not take part with the lord of Roche-Pont; that from this day forwards they were free of all dues and services towards the said lord; but that those who should be convicted of taking part with him should be hanged as traitors to their lawful lord, the Duke of Burgundy. A herald presented himself before the walls of the abbey, and in a loud voice uttered the same proclamation.[21] But the baron had foreseen this contingency, and all the townsmen who had come in arms at Anseric's summons were shut up in the castle. He had appointed for the defence of the abbey, only men on whom he could rely--men who were directly dependent on Anseric, and attached to his fortunes--with some of those adventurers whose services were enlisted in any wars that might arise, and who, having no ties of family or country, used to fight for those who paid them best.

These defenders of the abbey were scarcely more than one hundred resolute men. They received the herald's proclamation with derisive shouts, answering that they knew no other lord but the king of France; and that if it came to hanging, they could play at that game quite as well as the duke's people. During the night two mangonels were mounted opposite the north wall of the monastery, and had soon dismantled the defences; but Anseric's men had retrenched themselves in the building behind that wall; and when the Burgundians advanced with ladders to scale the wall, they received them with a shower of darts, which killed some of the assailants.

Nevertheless, the besiegers mounted the wall and descended into the long narrow court enclosed by the building. There they were exposed to the stones and _débris_ of timber which the defenders threw at them out of the windows. The east court was barricaded, and Anseric, with about twenty men, was guarding the barricades. He defended it bravely for a good hour, and the Burgundians, fighting in a narrow space, sustained some losses. They succeeded, however, in breaking open a door of the building, and rushed into the cloister. There they were still exposed to the darts and stones hurled at them by some of the defenders posted on the north side of the church.

A body of Burgundians began to attack the south-east barricade, outside the enclosure, to take the abbey in the rear. It was there that the baron was posted, with about fifty men. The combat was severe and sanguinary, and before withdrawing, seeing that the defenders were gradually abandoning the abbey, he had the faggots in the trench behind set on fire.

Already Anseric and his men were on the road to the _château_, and were sheltered by the defences of the barbican. Guy rejoined them, pursued by a large body of Burgundians. But a thick smoke soon began to issue from the trench, and the assailants who were coming up, seeing the ground undermined beneath them, dared not advance. On this Guy and Anseric fell upon those who had ventured within bowshot of the barbican, and killed a good number of them. Excited by the struggle, and exasperated by the resistance they met with, the duke's men entered the various buildings of the abbey, killing the wounded, and plundering. Fire, kindled by the defenders or the Burgundians, soon reached the cloister and the roof of the church.

The poor monks, assembled in the choir during the struggle, were soon forced to quit this retreat; for burning brands were falling on the pavement through the holes in the vaulted ceiling. It was already night, and many were massacred by the drunken soldiery. Most of them had cowered down trembling in a vaulted chamber on the ground floor. It was there that the duke found them when he entered the burning abbey. The abbot threw himself on his knees; but the irritated duke repulsed him harshly, saying: "Sir abbot, it ill becomes ecclesiastics to fight against their lord; and if I do not have you and your monks hanged, you may thank your habit. Begone, and tell your brethren of your _forfeitures_!" Vainly did the abbot protest his innocence, and asseverate that if the abbey had been defended, it was against his will; and the duke, whose anger seemed to gather warmth at every word the father spoke, ended by ordering his men to drive out all the monks.

The unhappy fraternity, perishing of hunger, betook themselves to the town, where some kindly-disposed persons took them in; but the duke would not allow this, and proclaimed next day that every inhabitant who should give shelter to a monk should be hanged. Collecting some provisions, therefore, they started for Cluny on foot.

The duke had given orders to extinguish the flames, for he was intending to reside in the abbey during the siege of the castle; but there remained no part of it fit for habitation except the abbot's dwelling, situated north of the church.[22]

Retired within the castle, after having lost a fourth of their men who had been engaged in the struggle, Anseric and the baron were making their final arrangements. The troops who had re-entered with them were in high spirits, for they had inflicted sensible losses on the enemy; and thought of nothing but defending themselves to the uttermost. Guy was delighted, and his sombre visage was lighted up with an air of gaiety.

"We are getting on bravely," said he to his nephew, when they were alone, "bravely, I say: now that the abbey is burned we are sure to be aided by the king of France; we have made a capital commencement." "But these poor monks; what has become of them? Ah! my worthy uncle, it would have been better to leave them alone; we should now have some thirty brave fellows more here, and should not have to reproach ourselves with having caused the convent to be burned and the monks massacred, perhaps." "Stay, stay, my good nephew; monks always get out of their difficulties, and they are sure to be able to restore their abbey. Besides, it is the duke's men who have burned it! Besides, was it not our duty to defend it? Say no more about it. Jean Otté will get out to-night by the donjon postern. He is a rough sort of fellow, but a cunning blade; in five days he will be with our gentle Eleanor, and tell how that the noble duke has sacked the abbey, and burned all the monkery! It's capital! capital!"

On either side about a dozen prisoners had been taken. The next morning, May 7th, the people of the castle saw three of these unhappy men hanging up, by the duke's orders, on the trees of the pleasance. Immediately three Burgundian prisoners were hanged on the battlements of the barbican.

None of the bridges had been destroyed by the besieged. They were occupied by the duke's men, and defended each by a good _bretèche_ (Fig. 38), to hinder any communication from one bank to the other. The south wall of the abbey was strengthened by palisades joining the two ridges west and east of the plateau. A guard was posted in the two mills belonging to the monastery,[23] and a wooden tower built by the side of the rivulet, below the south-east part of the castle.

These first measures adopted, the duke had a ditch dug, with a mound crossing the pleasance of the castle within bowshot, and connecting the two ridges. This intrenchment of contravallation was strengthened by two wooden towers, one at each end, with an outlet near each of them, and one in the middle (Fig. 39). The castle was thus completely invested (May 15th).

While these works were being executed, there were trifling skirmishes every day between the defenders and the besiegers. They were trying each other's strength, but nothing serious was attempted. The duke bent his whole strength towards preventing the lord of Roche-Pont and his men from escaping: he was taking his time. Baron Guy was often closeted with a certain individual whom he called his chaplain, and who had accompanied him from Palestine. In the castle, this so-called chaplain never went by any other name than the _Saracen_. He was a tall, thin personage, with dark brown skin, black eyes and hair, always dressed in a coarse grey surtout. He spoke little, and drank nothing but water; but never failed to be present at mass in the chapel of the castle, and would remain long hours in prayer. The baron asserted that he was a monk of the order of Bethlehem. Whatever he was, he had charge of the sick, and possessed remedies for wounds of all kinds. He was gentle in manner, never looked a woman in the face, was a scholar, and would read aloud so as to charm the most delicate ears. His official name was Brother Jerome. Now, during the leisure which the enemy left the besieged (who were not sufficiently numerous to offer any hindrance to the siege works of the Burgundians, and could do nothing but keep a careful look-out), it was remarked at the castle that the baron and Brother Jerome passed whole hours together, in the lower apartment of one of the towers, of which they alone had the key. Their clothes were often observed to be blackened when they came out.

It was the eighth day of the investment, which appeared now to be complete (May 22nd). The baron had a secret conference with his nephew and Brother Jerome in the evening, and about six o'clock, orders were given to prepare one of the largest trebuchets, whose framing had been transported thither during the preceding night, at the western end of the lists, outside the ditch.

About two o'clock in the morning, the engine was mounted, the night being still completely dark, as it would be at that season. They then tried its range against the right-hand tower of the besiegers' contravallation, with stones; and when the proper range had been secured--a point ascertained by the noise of the projectiles that fell on the woodwork--Brother Jerome placed in the lowered pouch of the stone-propeller a barrel provided with a match, and giving orders to let go the beam of the engine, set fire to the match with a brand taken from a brasier kindled for the purpose.

With a whizzing sound, the end of the beam traced a bow of fire, and the barrel was shot forth, leaving a long and luminous trail behind it; it struck the wooden tower, and in bursting spread a sheaf of white flames which seemed to cling to the woodwork. The engine, lowered anew, sent a second barrel and a third. The wooden tower then resembled a furnace (Fig. 40).

Great was the agitation among the guard of the besiegers, and the defenders could hear their shouts from the ramparts. Taking advantage of their confusion, Anseric had the barrier of the lists opened, and followed by two hundred men, went at full speed to the contravallation, passed through the central gate, which was but slightly guarded, and turned to the left, passing along the interior of the enemy's earthwork.

The Burgundians had betaken themselves to the tower to try to extinguish the flames. The besieged rushed upon the disorderly mass, most of them being unarmed. The baron had also gone out with a second body to protect his nephew's retreat. The duke heard the shouting from the abbey, saw the fire, and immediately gave orders to march forward. But during the last hours of night, men are not very active. Before help arrived, Anseric had had time to kill or put to flight all who were guarding the contravallation. He could therefore re-enter the lists at his leisure, and without having lost a single man; some few being wounded. Daylight revealed to the duke the smoking remains of one of his towers.

This sally raised the courage of the besieged; none of them, except those who had been in the wars of the Crusaders, knew the effects of the Greek fire. They deemed themselves, thenceforth, invincible. This was the baron's object in planning this attack, whose result was otherwise of little value to the besieged.

In place of the wooden tower that had been burned, the duke had a platform raised, consisting of wicker-work and turf, on which was placed a substantial floor of beams to receive a _trebuchet_ which swept the lists, and almost reached the barbican. Then he raised a second platform, in the very centre of the front of the contravallation, with a mangonel, whose projectiles fell right into the barbican. To these engines the besieged opposed the first trebuchet, and another mounted in the barbican. But on neither side was any great damage effected by them during a whole day's working, for as soon as the soldiers saw the beam of the enemy's engine lowered, they got out of the way. The besiegers enlarged the central platform, and were then able to mount the mangonels upon it, which succeeded in utterly destroying the trebuchet set up in the barbican, and the palisades in front, and in dismantling the battlements. The garrison of the castle were obliged to cower down against the walls, if they would avoid abandoning the works. When the besiegers deemed the palisades indefensible, and the battlements sufficiently broken down, the signal was given for the assault (May 25th).

In the first place, protected by mantelets or by their bucklers, the archers and crossbowmen advanced to about sixty paces from the barbican, forming an arc of a circle around it--the archers in the front rank, the crossbowmen behind. Immediately one of the defenders showed himself on the rampart, he was hit. The garrison, sheltered as far as possible by the remains of the merlons, and by their bucklers, replied as best they could, but ineffectually, for their situation was a very trying one. Not wishing to risk his men's lives uselessly, Anseric made them lie flat on their faces on the rampart, so as to be ready at the moment of assault.

Two bodies of Burgundians then advanced, provided with ladders having hooks, and with planks, which they threw over the little ditch of the palisade. Some resolute men defended the palisade, but it was so broken by the projectiles that these defenders had to abandon it. Then about thirty ladders were set up against the barbican, and strings of men climbed their rounds; but the garrison succeeded in unhooking the ladders and throwing down the assailants; others, making use of the _débris_ of the merlons, crushed them. Those of the assailants who reached the summit were received with blows of bills, boarspears, and crowbars.

The foot of the barbican was already covered with dead and wounded, with the _débris_ of ladders, and stones. From the towers of the bailey gate skilful crossbowmen, well protected, hit most of those assailants who succeeded in mounting on the remains of the parapet. The assault, three times renewed, was as often repelled, with considerable loss to the Burgundians. The assailants had burst in the gate of the barbican; but the baron, seeing that the lists could not be defended, had caused the gate to be barricaded, leaving only a narrow egress to allow the last defenders of the palisades to re-enter. As soon as these had got in, beams and barrels were heaped up against this gate. On this side the assailants were exposed to the projectiles hurled from the towers and curtains of the bailey. They succeeded, however, in setting up mantelets to protect them, and throwing sulphur and resin on these remains of the gate, set it on fire. The flames were communicated to the barricade, but the defenders incessantly brought up fresh pieces of wood, and night came without the enemy having been able to occupy the work. He nevertheless maintained his position around the barbican, sheltered behind fascines and mantelets, and piling against its walls trunks of trees, clods of turf, and mattresses taken from the scattered houses; while a trebuchet was incessantly discharging stones on the area of the defence. The besieged had abandoned it since midnight, and had thrown down the bridge giving entrance to the bailey.

At sunrise, therefore (May 26th), the Burgundians were able to get within the walls of the barbican without opposition, but they found themselves directly exposed to the projectiles thrown from the defences of the bailey, which were provided with hoarding. It was not without loss that the besiegers got a lodgment within the barbican, a considerable length of whose wall they threw down. Then, having cleared the breach, they set to work to bring forward a _cat_ which had been framed together beforehand out of range, at some distance from the contravallation, while two terraces were being raised outside the walls of the barbican, and abutting against them (Fig. 41).

The Burgundians could not undertake a new attack before these works were completed. Baron Guy determined to avail himself of this respite. Behind the left-hand curtain of the bailey gate, he set up the two remaining trebuchets on a wooden platform, and then connected the corner of the chapel and the corner of the building D, belonging to the stables, by a good palisading with a ditch.[24] The trebuchets were mounted within this palisading, forming an interior retrenchment. The timbers of the hoarding were thoroughly wetted and smeared with mud--as far as the enemy's attacks permitted. This precaution was not useless, for the Burgundians soon discharged on these hoardings, with their catapults, darts furnished with tow dipped in pitch and lighted. The besieged, armed with poles to which were fastened pieces of wet blanket, extinguished these missiles without much trouble; for the flame had not the intensity of the Greek fire, and did not cling to the wood. In fact the tow would sometimes be extinguished in its passage.

In twelve hours the trebuchets of the besieged were mounted, and began to hurl stones of sixty and a hundred pounds weight on the barbican occupied by the enemy, and even beyond, which annoyed them excessively; for not seeing the engines, they were unable to aim in return--except by guess--with the mangonels they had set up on the terraces; and all the projectiles passed over the heads of the defenders. During three days no change occurred in the situation on either side. The Burgundians, however, had succeeded in filling up the fosse on the right of the bailey gate; and they had thrown so many stones with their mangonels against the hoarding of the neighbouring towers, that these timber defences fell to pieces; but the stone battlement behind remained intact, and the defenders were still perfectly sheltered behind their merlons, whence they sent showers of quarrels and arrows.

The fosse having been filled up (May 30th), the _cat_ advanced, rolling on planks between the two terraces, through the breach of the barbican. Then as the filling in of the fosse had an inclination towards the curtain, the _cat_ of itself went striking its iron muzzle against the wall (Fig. 42). Thereupon the besieged threw down on its double-sloped roof huge stones, beams, and small barrels of Greek fire. But the roof was solidly plated with iron; its slopes greatly inclined, and covered with earth and wetted mattresses, allowed the stones, beams, and barrels to slip off right and left. Men placed within the _cat_ thrust away the inflammable projectiles with long forks, so that they might not set fire to the sides of the gallery. This latter was preserved, therefore, despite the efforts of the besieged, and the miners, protected by its roof, set to work at the base of the wall.

The following night Baron Guy determined to make a last effort to set the _cat_ on fire. The working of the miners could be heard. Beneath the gate B[25] of the bailey, there was a drain which discharged the rain-water of the court into the ditch. This mouth had been in great part walled up when the enemy presented themselves before the place. The floor of the bridge, in falling, had moreover hidden it from the besiegers. The baron had the walling removed noiselessly with crowbars, and when the opening was large enough to allow a man to pass, he chose three determined fellows who, with Brother Jerome, slid down into the ditch. Crawling up the mound which supported the _cat_, they slipped beneath its gallery two small barrels of Greek fire. Lighting the match with the aid of a preparation which the brother brought in a box, they went back as they had come, and the mouth of the drain was again walled up.

From the summit of the neighbouring towers the besieged had then the pleasure of seeing the barrels spread streams of white flames, which, clinging to the timbers of the gallery, set it on fire.

The more water the besiegers threw on the flames the more intense they became, so they began to try turf and mould. The defenders then recommenced throwing beams and stones on the roof of the _cat_; then more barrels of Greek fire, bundles of straw, and faggots.

In spite of the efforts of the Burgundians, the gallery being quite filled with suffocating smoke, was no longer tenable. They were forced to abandon it; and it was with great difficulty that they were able to preserve from the fire about eighteen feet by cutting it away with axes. The besieged on their side had not been able to prevent part of the remains of the hoardings above the _cat_ from catching fire; but these hoardings were already past service, and their efforts were confined to preventing the fire from extending right and left. The entire head of the _cat_ against the wall and twenty feet of its length was burned. The operations of the miners were not much advanced, still they had already removed enough material to give shelter to two men from the projectiles falling from the ramparts. Under favour of night, therefore, some pioneers returned to the mine-hole by creeping under the _débris_ of the _cat_. The darkness was great and the defenders did not observe them. But Brother Jerome was on the watch for suspicious sounds, and soon came to inform the baron that they were mining again. "Well," said the latter, "let us repeat yesterday's manoeuvre; send men out through the mouth of the drain which these Burgundians are so stupid as not to have looked for; and let some good thrusts of the knife relieve us of these burrowers; but let there be no noise!" The mouth of the drain was once more unwalled, and Brother Jerome with his three companions in the previous exploit, armed with long knives and gliding along the wall, reached the hole of the mine. Three pioneers, intent on their work, were noiselessly killed; a fourth, who was outside hidden in the _débris_ of the _cat_ to watch, slept, heard nothing, and remained there unperceived by Brother Jerome and his companions. Waking up soon afterwards he called in a low voice to his comrades ... there was no answer; he felt with his hand, touched a dead body--then a second, then a third. Terrified and not daring to return to the Burgundians from fear (a very reasonable one) of being hanged, he followed the wall, came to the _débris_ of the bridge, and found himself in front of the mouth of the drain, which was being silently walled up for the third time. Only a dark lantern threw its faint light on the workmen who were visible through the small opening which remained to be closed. The Burgundian comprehended, and immediately determined what to do. "A deserter!" said he in a low voice at the orifice. "Thy hand!" replied Brother Jerome. The hand appeared at the entrance of the hole, and the whole body was forcibly dragged through, not without excoriations, by the friar and one of his companions. The new comer was disarmed and conducted before Anseric and the baron as soon as the mouth of the drain had been securely closed. The poor wretch remained trembling before the two Seigneurs and naïvely recounted what had happened to him. He was a young man from Sémur, in Auxois, who, like most of his countrymen, was not wanting in intelligence. He gave all the information demanded of him concerning the duke's army: "Listen attentively to what I say," said the baron: "if the castle is taken, thou wilt be hanged by us before the first Burgundian enters. If the duke's men take the castle, thou wilt be hanged by them, to a certainty. If thou servest us faithfully and the duke's troops are obliged to raise the siege, the Lord of Roche-Pont will take thee into his service: what is thy calling?" "A harness-maker" "Well then! thou shalt be attached to his stables--shall he not, my worthy nephew?" "Certainly; and if he aids us efficiently, and if events show us that he speaks the truth, he shall have two pounds of silver on the raising of the siege."

These last words completely loosened the harness-maker's tongue; and he told all that he knew as to the number of the engines, the arrangements of the besiegers, the posts they guarded, and the towers of the contravallation; after which he was sent to the servants' hall, where he soon made friends with Anseric's dependants. Friar Jerome, however, was ordered not to lose sight of him.

It was not before the time when the miners were to be relieved (by another set) that the Burgundians discovered what had happened. The vanished harness-maker was strongly suspected of having assassinated his comrades while at work; they sought for him--to no purpose, of course.

Before sunrise the baron commenced a countermine at the point indicated by the deserter, inside the bailey wall. "If thou mistakest by so much as a yard," said the baron to the harness-maker, "thou shalt be hanged."

The work was carried on by both parties, and towards the close of the day the miners and counterminers met and attacked each other in their close quarters with crowbars and pickaxes. The Burgundians and the Lord of Roche-Pont each sent men to seize the mines. A barrel of Greek fire dislodged the duke's men; but the masonry of the wall, whose mortar had not thoroughly set, cracked above the mine. Seeing this, the Burgundians next night, making use of the rescued portion of the _cat_, set up a kind of front-work, formed of pieces of timber; and in the morning brought a _bosson_, or battering-ram on wheels (Fig. 43), with which they set to work to batter the base of the wall. At each blow the masonry was shaken, and stones fell down within and without.

The besieged tried to break the _bosson_, by letting fall great pieces of timber on its head, and to set fire to the timber; but these had been wetted, covered with mud, and filled round with manure at the bottom: the parapet was so well swept by the duke's mangonels and by the crossbow men that it was scarcely possible to retain a footing on it. Besides the men upon this wall, shaken as it was and vibrating at every blow of the ram, lost their self-possession and did not do their best; while the _bosson_ held out, especially as the assailants had put large pieces of timber in an inclined position against the wall, which caused the beams thrown by the besieged to slide off.

At the end of three hours of continued effort, the wall gave way, and a piece about twelve feet long fell on the bosson. The Burgundians immediately bringing up planks and ladders rushed to the assault through the narrow breach. The struggle was severe, and the garrison themselves, mounted on the ruins of the wall, fought bravely and maintained their front unbroken.

From the parts of curtains that remained intact and from the towers the defenders showered darts and stones on the assaulting column. The trebuchets within the rampart continued to send stones which, passing over the heads of the defenders and assailants on the breach, struck those who were gathered around the remains of the _cat_, and made wide lanes among them. By the evening, the Burgundians were masters of the breach; but seeing the interior rampart before them they did not venture to descend, but took up a position on the breach, protected by mantelets and fascines.

The same evening they set miners to work between the tower of the north-west angle and its neighbour; reckoning on thus getting round the retrenchment by passing through a second breach.[26] They likewise took possession of the two rampart walks of the curtain in which the breach had been made; but the tower of the gate and that on the left were still holding out at eight o'clock in the evening.

An hour later, the assailants being masters of the rampart walk in that quarter, set fire to the roofs of these towers (Fig. 44), which the defenders were forced to abandon.

In the morning, therefore, the gate was in the power of the enemy. The defenders still held the rampart walk to the east and west of the towers that had been burned, had raised barricades, and were determined to contest the position inch by inch.

The assailants as well as the defenders needed rest. Notwithstanding their progress, the Burgundians were suffering considerable losses, while of the force in the castle there were only a hundred killed and wounded. By a kind of tacit agreement the day following the assault passed without fighting. The duke, alarmed at the losses he had already sustained, determined not to continue the attack without taking every precaution; for his men were complaining that they were always made to fight unprotected against soldiers carefully shielded, and asserting that even if they got as far as the donjon, there would not be a man left in the duke's army to enter it.

That day was spent by the Burgundians in thoroughly protecting their quarters on the breach, in placing a catapult, then in crenelating the back walls of the towers, of which they had got possession, and in constructing a kind of wooden tower provided with a second catapult at the interior opening of the gateway. The defenders, on the other hand, made a second retrenchment from the angle of the building D of the stabling to the western curtain, and a strong barricade from the angle of the chapel choir E, to the neighbouring tower. Next, in front of the main gateway of the castle, a _bretèche_, or outwork with palisading to protect the men in case of retreat. It was evident that next day, the 6th of June, a decisive action would render the Burgundians masters of the bailey, even if they did not exert themselves to the utmost; but the defenders were resolved that they should pay dearly for their success. Anseric, firmly resolved to resist to the last extremity, and to perish under the ruins of his donjon, congratulated himself on Eleanor's absence, and regretted that his children were not with her. The noble lady was, however, not far off. The evening of the day that had been entirely employed in preparations for attacking and defending the bailey, she and her escort had arrived at the dwelling of the vavassor, Pierre Landry, who had immediately despatched a trusty messenger to the castle.

At the base of the donjon was pierced a slanting aperture one foot six inches square, which, opening into the lower hall, ended in the rampart walk left between the great tower and its outer inclosure. From this rampart walk a subterranean passage made along the foundations of the Roman wall, descended the slope of the plateau for a length of sixty feet, and opened out in an old quarry overgrown with brambles. Two strong iron gratings closed this tunnel. Watchmen were posted night and day in this passage; they were let down and hoisted up through the inclined shaft of the donjon by means of a carriage worked by a windlass.

By this passage Anseric had often sent out and brought in spies, who at night made their way furtively among the Burgundian posts. Now in the dead of night, Pierre Landry's messenger presented himself at the entrance of the subterranean passage, gave the signal agreed upon, and handed to the watchman a little box, saying that he was awaiting the answer hidden in the quarry. The box was immediately transmitted to Anseric. Eleanor informed him of her return, and said that she would contrive to re-enter the castle with her train the following night by the donjon postern. Anseric hardly knew whether to rejoice or grieve at this return. But the baron called his attention to a flower which Eleanor had attached to the end of the vellum on which the letter was written, and which was a token of good news.

On the morning of the 6th of June the Burgundians were in no hurry to attack; they contented themselves with sending darts inside the retrenchment, with their catapults and quarrels and arrows in great numbers from the top of the abandoned towers; they were replied to from the top of the church, the stabling, and the great towers of the castle gateway. About three o'clock in the afternoon, the miners engaged (as above mentioned) at the north-west curtain, threw down a part of it. The duke had thus three openings into the bailey; this last breach, the one effected two days before, and the gateway. Baron Guy advised that time and men should not be lost in defending this second breach, since they were intrenched behind; but, thanks to the corner tower, he was able to resist the immediate capture of the rampart of the curtains on that side. The defenders occupying the tower Y[27] were thus cut off. Anseric sent them a note by means of an arrow, urging them to hold out as long as possible. Fortunately this tower had no doors opening on the bailey, and no perceptible communication except with the ramparts. Now those adjacent to this tower still remained in the power of the occupants of the castle; as the Burgundians only possessed the defences of the middle part of the front. About five o'clock the signal for the assault was given. Three columns entered in good order by the two breaches and the gateway, and rushed, protected by their shields and bucklers, against the palisading, resolutely throwing themselves into the little ditch, in spite of the missiles which the defenders, who still possessed the tower Y and its curtains, hurled upon them from behind.

An egress had been left in the strong barricade which connected the angle of the chapel choir with the adjacent tower.

Anseric and a party of his best men issued by this outlet and fell upon the flank of the attack, which fell back in disorder.

Then other egresses well masked were opened on the front of the retrenchment, and the defenders resumed the offensive. They very nearly regained possession of these breaches and of the gateway; but the duke, on seeing his force in disorder, brought up his reserves, and the three bodies of assailants, four times more numerous than the defenders, obliged the latter to retire again behind their retrenchments. Then about seven o'clock in the evening--for the combat was prolonged without decisive success on either side, and the days are long at this period of the year--the two catapults discharged a quantity of darts furnished with burning tow on the roof of the stabling and of the chapel. The men of the castle exclusively occupied with the defence of the retrenchment, had no time to think of extinguishing the fire, more especially as the crossbowmen stationed on the defences of the bailey, now in the hands of the Burgundians, struck every defender showing himself on these buildings. The fire, therefore, soon gained the roofs. During the attack on the retrenchment, the duke resolved to get rid of the defenders remaining in his rear in the tower Y, and who annoyed the assailants. He called to them by a herald, that they could no longer hope for relief, that if they did not instantly surrender they should all be put to the sword. These brave men sent, as their only reply to the herald, a crossbow bolt, which wounded him. Then the duke, much irritated, ordered straw and faggots to be collected within the bailey and in the outside ditch, and all the wood they might have at hand, and set fire to, in order to smoke out the rebels. Very soon, in fact, the tower was licked by curls of flame, and communicated the fire to the hoarding and roof. Not one man cried "quarter!" for all seeing the fire gaining them, and blinded by the smoke, had retreated by a subterranean passage which from this tower communicated with the gateway of the castle--it was a Roman work preserved beneath the ancient curtain.[28] In withdrawing, they had stopped up the outlet of this passage, which, moreover, was soon filled up by the smoking _débris_ of the tower floors. The duke was persuaded that they had perished in the flames rather than surrender, and that set him gravely thinking.

To the last glimmering of daylight succeeded, for the combatants, the illumination of these three fires.

It seemed as if the heavens were bent on adding to the horror of the scene. The day had been fiercely hot; a storm soon arose accompanied by gusts of wind from the south-west, which blew down the smoke and strewed burning brands over the combatants.

At one time Anseric began to resume the offensive with his best soldiers by the barricade of the chapel; then transporting himself to the opposite palisade, he debouched along the western rampart upon the assailants, who on this side tried to get round the stable building. The direction of the wind was most unfavourable to the Burgundians; they received full in their faces both the smoke and the sparks from the western building. The attack languished, despite the efforts of the duke to obtain a decided advantage, and to bring his united force to bear on one point. A pouring rain and fatigue stopped the combatants about nine o'clock in the evening.

They almost touched one another, being only separated by the retrenchment. The rain fell so heavily that, in every direction, assailants and defenders sought shelter, until there remained none but the watchmen within and without the palisading.

At nightfall, Eleanor and her escort, habited as Burgundian soldiers, departed on horseback from the house of the vavassor, Pierre Landry, and under his guidance. They ascended the valley in silence, and saw before them the outline of the castle in dark relief before the sky, lit up by the fires. With hearts full of anxiety, none dared to express their fears.... What was burning? Was the enemy already within the bailey? Had he succeeded in setting fire to the northern defences of the castle? Having got to within two bowshots of the wooden tower, erected by the duke, at the junction of the river with the stream, they kept along the latter, forded it below the mill, left their horses there under the care of the vavassor's men, and ascended a-foot the slope of the plateau in the direction of the quarry. But at some distance from the opening, Pierre Landry, who was walking in front, perceived through the rain some men occupying the point of the plateau beneath the outer wall of the donjon. The duke had in fact sent some parties to watch the environs of the castle during the combat, and especially the base of the donjon, supposing, with reason, that this defence possessed a postern, as was usual, and fearing, that if the assault turned in his favour, the garrison, in despair of maintaining the defence any longer, after the taking of the bailey, might attempt to escape by some secret outlets.

Pierre Landry turned back towards Eleanor's escort and communicated to it this disagreeable discovery. To enter the quarry was not to be thought of. What was to be done?...

The vavassor concealed Eleanor, her two women, the three monks, and the twelve men-at-arms, as well as their captain, in the best way he could, and made his way along the escarpment by creeping through the underwood. Flashes of distant lightning enabled him from time to time to make out the eastern walls of the castle. No troop appeared on that side; he advanced therefore gradually as far as the foot of the rampart.

After the combat, Anseric, full of anxiety, and without stopping to change his martial accoutrements, covered with mud and blood, had hastened towards the postern of the donjon. There he had learned from his watchmen that the environs of the outer wall were occupied by the Burgundians about bowshot distant, that they were numerous, well shielded, and communicated with another post established beneath the western rampart, and with a third on the eastern side.

Anseric felt a cold sweat cover his face; but he said to himself that the vavassor was cautious, and certainly would not come and throw himself blindly into the snare. He thought for the moment of sallying with his bravest men by the postern to fall on the troop; but to what purpose? The latter would quickly be supported, the post of the wooden tower would take to their arms, and all chance of getting Eleanor and her party in would be compromised. It would be better to send away his wife and to await events.... But how communicate with her? It was impossible to send her a message. He then remounted the steps of the postern in anxious thought. The baron came that way, and Anseric related everything to him.

"Nothing is lost, dear nephew; we will get Eleanor in, for it is necessary that we should know from herself the result of her mission; that must influence, one way or the other, the sequel of our defence..... Leave me to act.... Brother Jerome is an intelligent fellow; we will consult together....

"In the meanwhile, go and watch without from the top of the eastern ramparts; for, whether Pierre Landry comes alone or with our party, it can only be by that side, since he cannot cross the river whose bridges are guarded. He must have crossed the rivulet in order to get to the outlet of the postern. Go, look and listen attentively!".... Anseric, ascending the eastern defences, enjoined on his men the greatest silence, and put his ear to the listening places--first in one tower then in the next; but he only heard the dripping of the rain on the roofs, and the sighing of the wind. In a little while the baron and brother Jerome, provided with a long rope, came to seek him. "Make yourself easy, dear nephew; Brother Jerome is first going to reconnoitre.... But call four men to help us."

A board was fastened transversely to one end of the cord; this end was thrown over the outside through one of the embrasures, while the cord was held by the four men. Brother Jerome, with his grey dress tucked up, a large knife at his belt, put his feet on the board, grasped the cord with both hands, and he was gently let down. When the rope was slack, the brother was at the foot of the rampart, and they waited.

At the end of half-an-hour, which seemed an age to Anseric, a slight movement given to the cord intimated that brother Jerome was returning. The cord tightened, and the four men had soon hoisted the brother up to the merlons. "Well?" said Anseric. "The vavassor is there; I was very nearly killing him, taking him for a Burgundian, for he has the dress of one; it was he who recognised me and called me by my name." "Well! well! Eleanor?"--"All are there concealed, for the Burgundians are not far off; in this diabolical weather they are earthed like rabbits; no time must be lost. Let down a _barquette_ at the end of the cord; we will hoist up the Lady Eleanor, and the others afterwards, if the Burgundians let us."

The _barquette_ was quickly brought, and firmly attached to the cord, then let down; a shake of the rope intimated that Pierre Landry was below: soon after, a second shake intimated that the _barquette_ was loaded. They hoisted, and dame Eleanor very soon showed her face at the battlement; all hands lifted her to the arms of her husband. The two women, the captain, the eleven men-at-arms, and the three monks were thus hoisted, without mishap, but were wetted to the skin.

In spite of the loss of the bailey, and the death of a good number on their side, Anseric's men were full of joy when at dawn the defenders were told that an army of the King of France was coming to their relief, and that it was only a question of continuing the defence a few days longer.

Eleanor's mission had perfectly succeeded. The king, Philip Augustus, who appeared to hesitate at first, had quickly determined when the messenger Jean Otté came to tell Eleanor of the burning of the abbey. The king had desired to see this messenger, and the latter, who knew whom he had to deal with, had recounted how the duke's men, without warning, without any provocation, had taken possession of the monastery, had set it on fire, had massacred some of the monks, and driven out those who remained. Soon after, a letter from the abbot of Cluny came to confirm the fact, imploring the justice of the king.

Eleanor, as a woman who knew what she was about, had not failed to make known to the suzerain that the dearest wish of her husband and herself for a long while had been to put the fief of La Roche-Pont into the hands of the king: that they should not, however, have declined the homage rendered to the duke for the fief, if that noble had not, by his violence and the plundering of his men, provoked this decision on their part; that far from being the protector of his vassals, the said duke was bent upon ruining them: and that if he (the king of France) presented himself on the domain of Roche-Pont, he would be received there as the sole and puissant justiciary, alone worthy to govern.

The opportunity was too tempting for Philip Augustus not to be eager to avail himself of it. To lessen the power of a great vassal under so plausible a pretext, and with the rights of the case in his favour, accorded too completely with his general policy to allow him to display less than the full measure of that vigour and firmness for which he was so distinguished. Eleanor quitted the court with the assurance that, a few days after her return to Roche-Pont, the royal army would confront the forces of the Duke of Burgundy.