town showed no signs of resistance. But behind the
battlements[12] the citizens were stacking piles of stones and darts.
Masses of picked men were posted at various vantage-points for
sallying forth. Spies were hidden in the long reeds and grass all
round the city, and sentinels unseen were guarding all the walls, from
the main road at the Porte Beauvoisine, round the heavy ramparts to
the north and east. Upon their south-west was the river, and there was
plenty of provisions stored inside. The quiet reported to the allies
was but the confident repose of thorough preparation, and this the
Germans discovered as soon as they drew near the city. The young Duke
Richard suddenly dashed out over the drawbridge with seven hundred
full-armed Norman knights on horseback shouting "Dex Aie!" behind him.
They rode straight upon the German spears, cut their way through and
back again taking fifteen captives with them, and slaying their
leader, the "Edeling" himself who had followed them to the very
bridge. Otto fainted at the sight of the dead body of the brave
Edeling whose "Flamberg" and Castilian steed are often mentioned in
the story though his name does not appear. Then the braying of
aurochs' horns, of cornets and of trumpets, announced the coming
vengeance of the allies. Their catapults rained missiles on the town,
and their men-at-arms waited impatiently for a breach to be battered
in the Porte Beauvoisine. But it remained steadfastly shut, and the
Duke made another brilliant sally from a postern gate with the
blood-red standard waving again above his Norman knights, and swept
back once more the assailing lines of Germany until the French had to
bring up their reinforcements from the rear and save the field. That
evening, in Otto's pavilion, the funeral service of the Edeling was
held. All night he lay beneath the silk of his funeral pall with
tapers burning at his head and feet, and the low chant of prayer
sounded till the dawn. All night had Otto stayed awake in sorrow and
unrest. At last, with the rising of the sun he heard a burst of
minstrelsy. Rouen was silent no longer; the songs of triumph and
defiance burst from every parapet and tower, while the very birds
(says the chronicler) seemed to join in the chorus of happiness all
round the beaten camp. Then Otto rode moodily along the city walls and
watched the waggons bringing in supplies across the bridge, and noted
that the bridge-head at Ermondeville (St. Sever as it