A Captive of the Roman Eagles Part 34

Meanwhile Saturninus had convinced himself that, for the moment, no pressing danger threatened the northern or Praetorian Gate, and hurrying down the steps inside the wall, he exchanged, his part of warrior for that of Commander. Gathering his officers about him in the open s.p.a.ce at the foot of the wall, about a hundred paces north of the pine-tree of the earth-G.o.ddess, he curtly issued swift commands. "Let all the hors.e.m.e.n dismount and fight on the walls, except the first squadron of mailed riders; but these are not to dismount--do you hear?--on pain of death, under any pretext. All the riderless horses must be led to the Porta Dec.u.mana; for if a sally should be made, or"--he added in a lower tone so that only his officers could hear--"if it should be necessary to leave the camp, we shall go to the south to aid Nannienus. If he be not attacked himself, he will instantly a.s.sail the Barbarians in the rear at that gate."

"Help at the Porta Princ.i.p.alis Sinistra!" entreated a horseman dashing from the west.

Saturninus turned to speak to the messenger and, in doing so, turned his back to the pine-tree; but he had scarcely addressed a few words to the man, when a centurion standing behind the General uttered a cry of terror and seized him by the arm: "Look around you, Tribune! There! By the pine-tree! The earth is trembling; the abyss is opening; the altar stones have sprung apart!"

Just at that moment the Barbarians' war-cry: "Odin! Odin! Alemanni!"

rang out in the midst of the camp, and Saturninus's face blanched as he saw a gigantic figure in a white helmet, near the pine-tree, strike down with his long spear a Celtic archer, who, shrieking, tried to escape. Three, six, eight, twelve Barbarians had risen from the earth.

With a cry of savage fury the brave Roman rushed toward the giant. But he could not reach him, his own soldiers threw him down.

It was a body of the Celts, hot-blooded, brave in a.s.sault, but easily disheartened after an unfavorable turn. They saw the foe in the midst of the camp; only a few had noticed whence they came or how small at first was their number. Seized with panic, many throwing away their weapons, they fled in frantic terror.

"Treason! Treason! The enemy is in the camp!" With these shouts a whole troop of fugitives had flung themselves between the Duke and the Roman General. The latter instantly sprang to his feet again.

"Halt, you cowards," shouted the fearless Tribune, again trying to check with flashing sword, the mad rush of the fugitives. "Look around you. There is only a handful of the enemy. And where will you fly?

Outside of the camp? Among the greatly superior number of the foe? Only these walls can save you!"

"To the ships! To Nannienus! Across the lake! To Arbor!"

"Then die, you coward!" he cried fiercely, striking down the nearest shouter, a standard bearer of the Celts; and tearing from the falling man the dragon standard, with its fluttering purple streamers, he swung it aloft, crying, "Roma! Roma!" and pressed forward.

For a moment he really succeeded in checking the fugitives. And now the bold little band of intruders was in the utmost peril; then Saturninus's attention was suddenly diverted to the top of the wall.

Many, many of its defenders had turned at the noise behind them, seen German helmets in the midst of the camp, heard the cries of terror from the Celts, and noticed their General himself rush into the midst of the fugitives. They believed that the camp had been taken from the opposite direction, and feared every moment that they would be attacked from the rear. So they leaped from the top of the wall in large numbers or came rushing down the stairs. The besiegers outside, hitherto held in check by a heavy shower of missies, suddenly saw whole ranks of the defenders vanish, whole stretches of the wall left empty and, with wild shouts, they climbed boldly and confidently up the ladders. When the Tribune looked up, the a.s.sailants were already springing from the wall in dense ma.s.ses, hewing down the few Romans who had gathered around him, while the fierce giant's terrible spear struck down one after another.

Saturninus cast one more glance at the top of the wall: countless bands of Barbarians were appearing on it. Then, in a voice whose tones rang above the din of battle, he shouted the order: "Leave the camp! Follow this standard! To the Porta Dec.u.mana! Close ranks! If you open them, you will be lost!"

These words had their effect. Often had these soldiers proved that this solid closing of their ranks was the best, nay, the only means of repelling the a.s.sault of the Germans. The hope of reaching their comrades on the ships revived their courage; retreating toward the south, fighting as they marched, they followed their trusted leader.

The pursuers from the north and east pressed hotly upon them; but the Romans moving southward received considerable reenforcements from the east and the west, where the cross streets from both sides ran into the one extending from north to south--the Via Media. Meanwhile the troops defending the eastern and western gates had heard the war-cry of the Alemanni within the camp and the shouts of their own fugitives, and giving up the hopeless resistance, they thronged, according to a standing rule in the camp, into the long central street which led to the Porta Dec.u.mana, the gate a.s.signed for the Roman line of retreat.

True, the troops from the western gate, where the a.s.sailants had already made considerable progress, poured down in great confusion; but Dedus and Ausonius led the legionaries of the Twenty-second Cohort from the eastern gate in good order. Saturninus saw the two leaders from the distance, but separated by the whole flood of marching men, they could not meet. So the columns, overtaken and pressed by the Barbarians only in the rear, gradually reached in better order the spot where the Via Princ.i.p.alis, near the Dec.u.manian Gate, intersected the long central street leading to it. Here all the baggage, with many hundred carts and wagons, was piled together. Such a barricade, a valuable defence to German bands on the migrations, was the most dangerous obstacle and interruption to the Roman order of marching and fighting; for no matter whether the attempt to pa.s.s was made by going around or climbing over it, in either case the firmly closed ranks were broken into little groups, nay sometimes even separated into individual warriors, who were forced to press forward or climb over the wagons one behind another.

But the old Duke had not studied the plan of the camp in vain: he had noted accurately where the baggage, the carts and wagons were placed, and eagerly distributed all the bands of his men who poured toward him.

They came from the three gates north, west, and east, which they had long since forced open, and they pa.s.sed through the streets of the camp in such a manner, as they pressed forward in pursuit, that they pushed from all sides down the long and the cross streets upon the fugitives, just at this exact point.

CHAPTER L.

In the midst of the intoxication of victory another joy filled the old leader's heart: delight in the progress which, within a single generation, the training in obedience had made in the subjection of his Alemanni to the military authority of their Duke.

The traditions of their forefathers and his own youthful experience contained many an instance in which Germans had lost a victory already won, because the conquerors, against their leader's commands, began, in unbridled l.u.s.t for booty, to plunder the captured camp. They would scatter themselves through tents and baggage wagons, each vying with his comrades, so that the Romans, little disturbed by pursuit, found the opportunity to a.s.semble again and, with closed ranks, could wrest from the dispersed pillagers both camp and victory. So the old Commander could say to himself with proud delight: "They have learned something, through me--under me--ay, for love of me!"

Before the commencement of the a.s.sault he had proposed, for he could not command: "The camp and all its contents shall belong to the whole army, after the victory is won. When the morning sun shines down upon it, a division shall be made according to districts, families, and individuals. Whoever takes, in advance, even a vessel or a weapon shall be regarded as a thief who has robbed his people, and shall be hanged."

The bands had a.s.sented, and they loyally kept their word: not a man turned from the battle, or left the ranks to plunder, or even stooped to pick up the costly gold and silver articles which the slaves, flying from Ausonius's tent, had tried to hide, or perhaps steal. The slaves had soon thrown down these articles that they might not be hampered in their flight.

Obedient to Hariowald's orders, the Alemanni drove the fugitives from all directions toward the central street of the camp; so the confused torrent which, hitherto, had poured through many separate channels southward, was dammed by this obstacle and checked.

The first men, still running at full speed down the narrow side paths at the right and left, squeezed past the wide rows of carts, or, if not too much crowded by their neighbors, climbed over them; but both plans soon became possible only by the most violent struggles for precedence on the part of the fugitives, as the hundreds driven here and there by the Duke's followers rushed upon the closed ranks of the two leaders'

orderly columns. These fugitives pressed forward with the strength of despair, especially after they perceived, with horror, that throwing down their weapons and surrendering did not save them from death.

"Woe, they are killing every one! Make way! Let us pa.s.s! They are murdering the prisoners!"

"No!" shouted the Duke to the nearest shrieker, "they are not murdering the prisoners, for they have none!" and struck him down.

Then the ranks which had remained closed began to waver. Saturninus succeeded in crowding past the wagons on the right and hastened onward toward the gate. The scene was brightly lighted by many blazing tents, into which the victors had flung f.a.ggots smeared with pitch and resin.

At the corner of one of the cross streets Saturninus saw two of his beautiful large dogs, with torn bodies, lying one above the other, while he heard the others barking furiously, and at intervals the sound of fierce growling. The next instant he was pushed far forward by the men crowding behind him. He looked around for Ausonius, who had been mounted, and saw him on foot trying to climb over the barricade of wagons. He was making slow progress, and already, close upon this band of fugitives, the war-cry of the pursuers sounded nearer and nearer.

The Tribune ordered several pioneers whom he met to break a pa.s.sage with their axes through the carts for Ausonius and the left column. The men did not obey willingly; they were reluctant to turn back, with the Dec.u.manian Gate in sight, to meet the furious attack of the foe; but Roman military discipline and the habit of obedience to their honored General again conquered, so they went to meet Ausonius, while the Tribune hastened onward.

The rising flames, the echoing blows of the axes, accompanied by the ominous crash of splintering wood, urged the Tribune to still greater speed; this gate must not be opened from the outside if his last attempt to escape was not to fail. But scarcely had he reached the open s.p.a.ce before it, when fresh cries of despair rose from the column at the left commanded by Ausonius. Before the pioneers had broken a pa.s.sage to the Prefect, his men had been reached by the arrows and spears of the pursuers, and he himself, falling between two wagons, suddenly vanished from their eyes. Loud lamentations from his followers burst forth.

Then the pioneers turned and fled in the opposite direction; the Barbarians were threatening on the left, so they ran down one of the cross streets at the right which intersected the central one.

"Fly," called the foremost one, running directly past Hercula.n.u.s, who was making desperate but fruitless efforts to tear with his unchained hands the solid oak-block from the earth or to release his feet from the small holes and iron clamps. "Fly! Ausonius has fallen!"

"Ausonius is dead!" shouted the second; throwing away his heavy axe, which impeded his flight. It fell near the prisoner, who, without heeding the violent pain which the movement caused to his strained feet and bruised ankles, stretched both arms toward it. Triumph! He could reach it. At least he could touch the handle with the tips of his fingers, draw it slowly nearer, then at last seize and drag it to his side.

One of Ausonius's slaves, who had been wounded by an arrow, limped along more slowly. "Oh, my kind master, Ausonius! He has fallen. He is dead."

"Dead?" cried Hercula.n.u.s, "are you sure he is dead?"

But the fugitive had not heard, or did not wish to hear him--he had already moved on to Davus.

"Help me!" wailed the latter. "Don't leave me here to burn--or to fall into the hands of the Barbarians!"

"Miserable murderer!" was the only answer. The fugitive had already disappeared around the corner.

Meanwhile Hercula.n.u.s, seizing the sharp axe with both hands and bending downward, dealt blows with all his strength upon the oak-block which held his feet, just between the two holes pierced from the top to the bottom. At last the solid wood parted, breaking open the holes; two more blows severed the shackles which bound his feet to the two halves.

The prisoner was free. Yet it was only with difficulty and severe pain that he could use his legs, stiffened by sitting still so many hours and swollen by the pressure on the bones. But the desire to live, the hope of escape, conquered the pain: he walked, at first very slowly, toward Davus, who had watched him enviously.

"Help me out too. You, you alone, have brought me to this."

"Yes, traitor, I'll help you out," cried the other, with an angry laugh. Cleaving the slave's skull with the axe, he ran on more quickly, his limbs becoming more supple at every step, toward the western end of the cross street; for the noise from the east grew louder and louder.

The conflagration did not extend to this part of the camp. He glided into a tent and hid himself, for he still had cause to fear his own countrymen almost as much as the Barbarians. Here he found a short dagger, like those worn by the Thracians, which he thrust into his belt; he then put down the long-handled heavy axe, which had burdened him while running.

Ausonius dead! Perhaps all who knew of that incident were dead too! He could not shake off the thought while peering cautiously between two folds of the tent, watching for a way of escape between Romans and Barbarians.

CHAPTER LI.

Hercula.n.u.s was mistaken: Ausonius was not slain. In the attempt to leap from one cart to another he had fallen between them and slightly hurt his foot. But Decius and some legionaries of the Twenty-second Cohort had helped him up again and taken him at once to the Dec.u.manian Gate.

Here, meanwhile, the Tribune had quickly made his arrangements, gathering the fugitives arriving singly around a body of his Illyrians, to whom he also entrusted the standard.

"Where is the ala of mailed riders whom I ordered here, forbidding them to dismount? We need them now at the head of the sortie."