A Struggle For Rome Volume Ii Part 50

Belisarius had set forth with such certainty of victory, that he had ordered all the carriages and baggage of the army, and even the herds of cattle--which, according to the custom of the time, were driven after--to follow the troops upon the high-roads.

The retreating ma.s.ses now encountered this slowly advancing body, difficult to move and difficult to disperse, and indescribable confusion ensued.

Soldiers and drivers came to blows; the order of march was broken against the wagons, carriages, and chests. The l.u.s.t of booty was awakened, and many of the soldiers began to plunder the wagons, before they should fall into the hands of the enemy.

On all sides arose altercations, curses, laments, and throats, accompanied by the crash of broken wagons, and the bleating and bellowing of the terrified herds.

"Sacrifice the baggage! Fire the wagons! Gallop through the herds!"

cried Belisarius, who, sword in hand, now broke a path through the turmoil with the remnant of his body-guard.

But it was all in vain.

Ever thicker, ever more entangled became the coil; it seemed impossible to unravel it.

Despair at length tore it asunder.

The cry, "The barbarians are upon us!" sounded from the rear.

And it was no idle rumour.

Hildebad, with his foot-soldiers, had descended to the plain, and his foremost ranks now attacked the defenceless ma.s.s. There ensued a fearful press to the front; cries of terror--of rage from the body-guard, who, mindful of their former valour, attempted to fight, but could not--of anguish from those trampled and crushed; and suddenly the greater part of the wagons, with their teams and the thousands who were crowded upon them or jammed between them, fell with a thundering crash into the ditches on the right and left of the high-road.

So at last the way was open--and impetuously, all discipline at an end, the stream of fugitives rushed on to the camp.

With loud cries of victory the Gothic foot-soldiers followed, slaying their easy prey with arrows, slings, and spears; while Belisarius, in the rear, resisted with difficulty the unceasing attacks of Totila and the King.

"Help, Belisarius!" cried Aigan, the leader of the Ma.s.sagetian mercenaries, as he rode up from among the scattered groups, wiping the blood from his face. "My countrymen swear they see the devil amidst the enemy. They will not stand. Help me! Usually they fear you much more than the devil!"

Grinding his teeth, Belisarius looked across at his right wing, which was flying in disorder over the fallows, pursued by the Goths.

"O Justinian, my imperial master," he exclaimed, "how badly I keep my word!"

And, entrusting the further defence of the retreat to the camp to Demetrius--for the uneven ground upon which they had now entered embarra.s.sed the pursuit of the enemy's horse---he galloped across country with Aigan and his mounted guard to join the mercenaries.

"Halt!" he thundered; "halt, you cowardly dogs! Who flies, when Belisarius stands? I am with you; turn and win!" And he raised his visor, and showed them his majestic countenance.

And such was the power of his personality, so great the belief in his invincibility, that all who recognised the tall form of the commander on his roan, hesitated, halted, and with a cry of encouragement, turned once more to face the pursuing Goths.

Here, at least, the flight was at an end.

Up came a tremendous Goth, easily forcing his way.

"Ha, ha! I am glad you are tired of running, you swift-footed Greeks! I could no longer pant after you! Your legs are superior to ours; let us see if your arms be so too. Ha! why do you fall back, my lads? Because of him on the roan? What of him?"

"Sir, that must be a King among the southerners; one can hardly bear the glance of his angry eye."

"That would indeed be curious. Ah! that must be Belisarius! I am glad to meet thee, thou bold hero!" he cried across to Belisarius.

"Dismount, and let us measure the strength of our arms. Look, I too am on foot. Thou wilt not?" he cried angrily. "Must I fetch thee down from thy hack?"

And he swung his immense spear in his right hand.

"Turn, sir, avoid him!" cried Aigan: "that giant hurls small masts!"

"Turn, general," repeated the hypaspistes anxiously.

But Belisarius, raising his short sword, rode quietly a horse's length nearer to the Goth. Whizzing came the mighty spear, straight at his breast.

But just before it touched, a swift stroke of his short Roman sword, and the spear fell harmless on one side.

"Hail to Belisarius, hail!" cried the Byzantines, and they pressed forward anew.

"A famous stroke!" laughed Hildebad angrily. "Let us see if thy fence can parry _this_!"

And, bending forward, he lifted from the ploughed field an old jagged boundary-stone, swung it in both hands backward and forward, lifted it above his head, and hurled it with all his might at the advancing hero.

A cry from the Byzantines--Belisarius fell backwards from his horse.

All was over.

"Belisarius down! Woe, woe! All is lost!" cried the Byzantines, as the tall form disappeared, and fled madly towards the camp.

A few ran on without pause until they reached the gates of Rome.

It was in vain that the lance and spear-bearers threw themselves desperately against the Goths; they could only save their chief, but not the battle.

The first sword-stroke of Hildebad, who now rushed up to Belisarius, was received on the faithful breast of Maxentius. But also a Gothic horseman, who was the next to reach the place, and who had killed seven men before he could make his way to the magister militum, fell from his horse. His followers found him pierced by thirteen wounds. But he was still alive, and he was one of the few who fought through and outlived the whole war--Wisand, the bandelarius.

Belisarius, who, lifted on to his horse by Aigan and Valentinus, his groom, had quickly recovered his senses, raised his general's staff in vain, and cried to the fugitives to stand. They could not and would not hear. In vain he struck at them right and left; he was irresistibly carried away by the press to the very camp.

There, behind the solid gates, he at last succeeded in arresting the pursuit of the Goths.

"All honour is lost," he said indignantly; "let us at least save our lives."

With these words he closed the gates, without any regard to the large ma.s.ses of people still outside.

An attempt of Hildebad to enter the camp without more ado was frustrated by the strong oaken palisades, which defied the spears and stones hurled at them.

Leaning on his sword, Hildebad cooled himself for a moment. Just then Teja, who, like the King and Totila, had long since dismounted, turned the corner of the wall, which he had been examining and measuring.

"This confounded wooden fortress!" cried Hildebad, as Teja came up.

"Neither stone nor iron can do any good here."

"No," said Teja; "but fire can!"

He stirred with his foot a heap of ashes which lay near.

"These are from last night's watch-fires. Here are still some sparks, and brushwood lies near. Come, my men, put up your swords and kindle the brushwood. Set the camp on fire!"