and Narbonness; the Burgundians, under their kings Gundichaire and Gundioch, in Lyonness, from the southern point of Alsatia right into Provence, along the two banks of the Saone and the left bank of the Rhone, and also in Switzerland.  In 451 the arrival in Gaul of the Huns and their king Attila—­already famous, both king and nation, for their wild habits, their fierce valor, and their successes against the Eastern empire—­gravely complicated the situation.  The common interest of resistance against the most barbarous of barbarians, and the renown and energy of Aetius, united, for the moment, the old and new masters of Gaul; Romans, Gauls, Visigoths, Burgundians, Franks, Alans, Saxons, and Britons, formed the army led by Aetius against that of Attila, who also had in his ranks Goths, Burgundians, Gepidians, Alans, and beyond Rhine Franks, gathered together and enlisted on his road.  It was a chaos and a conflict of barbarians, of every name and race, disputing one with another, pell-mell, the remnants of the Roman empire torn asunder and in dissolution.  Attila had already arrived before Orleans, and was laying siege to it.  The bishop, St. Anianus, sustained a while the courage of the besieged, by promising them aid from Aetius and his allies.  The aid was slow to come; and the bishop sent to Aetius a message:  “If thou be not here this very day, my son, it will be too late.”  Still Aetius came not.  The people of Orleans determined to surrender; the gates flew open; the Huns entered; the plundering began without much disorder; “wagons were stationed to receive the booty as it was taken from the houses, and the captives, arranged in groups, were divided by lot between the victorious chieftains.”  Suddenly a shout re-echoed through the streets:  it was Aetius, Theodoric, and Thorismund, his son, who were coming with the eagles of the Roman legions and with the banners of the Visigoths.  A fight took place between them and the Huns, at first on the banks of the Loire, and then in the streets of the city.  The people of Orleans joined their liberators; the danger was great for the Huns, and Attila ordered a retreat.  It was the 14th of June, 451, and that day was for a long while celebrated in the church of Orleans, as the date of a signal deliverance.  The Huns retired towards Champagne, which they had already crossed at their coming into Gaul; and when they were before Troyes, the bishop, St. Lupus, repaired to Attila’s camp, and besought him to spare a defenceless city, which had neither walls nor garrison.  “So be it!” answered Attila; “but thou shalt come with me and see the Rhine; I promise then to send thee back again.”  With mingled prudence and superstition, the barbarian meant to keep the holy man as a hostage.  The Huns arrived at the plains hard by Chalons-sur-Marne; Aetius and all his allies had followed them; and Attila, perceiving that a battle was inevitable, halted in a position for delivering it.  The Gothic historian Jornandes