Historical Tales, Vol. 6 | Page 4

of enemies was at hand. There was no time to
occupy and attempt to defend the city. If his men were assailed by
citizens and soldiers in those narrow streets they might be slaughtered
without mercy. Prudence dictated a retreat.
Attila was as prudent as he was daring. The sound of trumpets recalled
his obedient hordes. Out they swarmed through the openings which had
permitted their entrance. Soon the army of the Huns was in full retreat,
while the advancing host of Romans and Goths marched proudly into
the open gates of the delivered city, with banners proudly floating and
trumpets loudly blaring, while every heart within those walls was in a
thrill of joy. Orleans had been saved, almost by magic as it seemed, for
never had been peril more extreme, need more pressing. An hour more
of delay, and Orleans, perhaps the whole province of Gaul, had been
lost.
We may briefly conclude the story of this invasion of the Huns. Attila,
convinced of the strength and spirit of his enemy, retreated in haste,
foreseeing ruin if he should be defeated in the heart of Gaul. He crossed
the Seine, and halted not until he had reached the plains of Châlons,

whose level surface was well adapted to the evolutions of the skilled
horsemen who formed the strength of his hordes.
As he retreated, the Romans and Goths followed, pressing him sharply,
making havoc in his rear-guard, reaching Châlons so closely upon his
march that the Goths, under Torismond, the young and valiant son of
their king, were able to seize a commanding height in the midst of the
field, driving back the Huns who were ascending from the opposite
side.
The battle that followed was one of the decisive battles of history. Had
the Huns won the victory, all western Europe might have become their
prey. The victory of Ætius was the first check received by this mighty
horde in their career of ruin and devastation. The conflict, as described
by the historians of the time, was "fierce, various, obstinate, and bloody,
such as could not be paralleled, either in the present or in past ages."
The number of the slain is variously estimated at from three hundred
thousand to about half that number. Exaggerated as these estimates
undoubtedly are, they will serve to indicate the ferocity and bloody
nature of the struggle. For a time it seemed as if the Huns would win.
Led by their king, they broke through the centre of the allies, separated
their wings, turned their whole strength against the Goths, and slew
Theodoric, their king, at the head of his men.
But the victory which seemed theirs was snatched from them by the
valiant Torismond, who descended from the height he had seized,
assailed the Huns with intrepid courage, and so changed the fortune of
the field that Attila was obliged to retreat,--vanquished for the first time
in his long career. The approach of night alone saved the Huns from a
total defeat. They retired within the circle of their wagons, and
remained there as in a fort, while the triumphant allies encamped upon
the field.
That night was one of anxiety for Attila. He feared an attack, and knew
that the Huns, dismounted and fighting behind a barricade, were in
imminent danger of defeat. Their strength lay in their horses. On foot
they were but feeble warriors. Dreading utter ruin, Attila prepared a
funeral pile of the saddles and rich equipments of the cavalry, resolved,

if his camp should be forced, to rush into the flames, and deprive his
enemies of the glory of slaying or capturing the great barbarian king.
The attack did not come. The army of Ætius was in no condition for an
assault. Nor did it seem safe to them to attempt to storm the camp of
their formidable antagonist, who lay behind his wagons, as the
historians of the time say, like a lion in his den, encompassed by the
hunters, and daring them to the attack. His trumpets sounded defiance.
Such troops as advanced to the assault were checked or destroyed by
showers of arrows. It was at length determined, in a council of war, to
besiege the Huns in their camp, and by dread of starvation to force
them into battle on unequal terms, or to a treaty disgraceful to their
king.
For this Attila did not wait. Breaking camp he retreated, and by
crossing the Rhine acknowledged his defeat. The Roman empire had
won its last victory in the west, and saved Gaul for the Franks, whose
day of conquest was soon to come.

THE WOOING OF CLOTILDE.
A beautiful, wise, and well-learned maiden was Clotilde, princess of
Burgundy, the noblest and most charming of the daughters of the
Franks. Such was the