CHAPTER XVIII.
THE PICTS.
The journey to Venta Belgarum was accomplished in safety, and, by dint ofstarting long before sunrise, in a single day. The distance was a littlemore than twenty miles, and the road, which was so straight that the endof the journey might almost have been seen from the beginning, lay almostthrough an open country. This was favourable for speed, as there waslittle or no need to reconnoitre the ground in advance. It was just aftersunrise when the party reached the spot where the traces of the great campof Constantius Chlorus may still be seen. It had even then ceased to beoccupied, but the soldiers' huts were still standing, and the avenues,though overgrown with grass, looked as if they might easily be throngedagain with all the busy life of a camp. The Count called a halt for a fewminutes, and pointed out the locality to Carna.
"See," said he, with a sigh, "there Constantius had his camp, the greatConstantius to whom we owe so much."
"And was Constantine himself ever there?" cried the girl, to whom thefirst Christian Emperor was the object of an admiration which we, knowingas we do more about him, can hardly share.
"I doubt it," returned the Count. "Constantius made it and held it duringhis campaigns with Allectus. But, my child, I was thinking not of itspast, but of its future. It will never be occupied again."
"Why should it?" exclaimed the girl, almost forgetting in her excitementthat she was speaking to a Roman. "Why should it? Why should not Britainbe happy and safe and free without the legions? Forgive me, father," sheadded, remembering herself again; "I am the last person in the world whoshould be ungrateful to Rome."
"I don't blame you," said the Count, and as he looked at the maiden'sflashing eyes and remembered how bravely she had gone through terrorswhich would have driven most women out of their senses, he thought tohimself--"Ah, if there were but a few thousand men who had half the spiritof this woman in them, the end might be different. My child," he went on,"I would not discourage you, but there are dark days before this island.She has enemies by sea and land, and I doubt whether she has the strengthto strike a sufficient blow for herself. I am thankful that you will besafely away before it comes."
Carna was about to speak, but checked herself. It was not the time shefelt to speak out her heart.
For some time after this little or nothing of interest occurred; but asthe party approached within a few miles of Venta the scene underwent aremarkable change. The road had hitherto been almost entirely deserted; itwas now thronged: but the face of every passenger was turned towardsVenta, not a single traveller was going the other way. Every by-way andbridle-path and foot-path that touched the road contributed to swell thethrong. In fact, the whole countryside was in motion. And the fugitives,for their manifest hurry and alarm proclaimed to be nothing less, carriedall their property with them. Carts laden with rustic furniture, on thetop of which women and children were perched, waggons loaded with theharvest of the year, droves of sheep and cattle helped to crowd the roadtill it was almost impassable. And still the hurrying pace, the fearfulanxious glances cast behind showed that it was some terrible danger fromwhich this timid multitude was flying. For some time, so stupified withfear were the fugitives, AElius could get no rational answer to thequestions which he put. "The Picts! The Picts! They are upon us!" at lastsaid a man whom a sudden catastrophe that brought a great pile ofhousehold goods to the ground, had compelled to halt, and who was glad toget the help of the Count's attendants to restore them, all help fromneighbours being utterly out of the question when all were selfishlyintent on saving their own lives and property. When his property had beenset in its place again the man thanked the Count very heartily, and wascollected enough to tell all he knew.
"There is no doubt that the Picts are not far off. I have not seenanything of them myself, thank heaven! but I could see the fires lastnight all along the sky to the north."
"Have they ever been here before?"
"Never quite here. You see, sir, the camp at Calleva(44) kept them incheck. A party did slip by, I know, some little way to the westward, and Iwas glad to hear they got rather roughly handled. But, generally, they didnot like to come anywhere near the camps. But now these are deserted, andthere is nothing to keep them back."
"But why don't you defend yourselves?"
"Ah, sir, we have not the strength, nor even the arms. You are a Roman, Isee, and, if I may judge, a man in authority, and you know that I amspeaking the truth. You have not allowed us to do anything for ourselves,and how can we do it now at a few months' notice?"
The Count made no answer; indeed, none was possible.
"And you expect to find shelter at Venta?"
"I don't say that I expect it, but it is our only chance. The place has atleast walls."
"And any one to man them?"
"There should be some old soldiers, but how many I cannot say; anyhow,scarcely enough for a garrison."
When the Count learned the situation he felt that his best course would beto press on with his party to Venta with all the speed possible. The chiefauthority of the town was in the hands of a native, who had the title ofHead of the City.(45) It was possible that this officer might be a man ofcourage and capacity; but it was far more likely that he would be quiteunequal to the emergency. In either case the Count felt that his adviceand personal influence might be of very great use. Even the twenty stoutsoldiers whom he had with him would be no inconsiderable addition to thefighting force of the place. Accordingly he gave orders to his followersto quicken their pace. Fortunately the greater part of the fugitives wasbehind them; still it was no easy task for the party to make its waythrough the struggling masses of human beings and cattle, and it was pastsunset when they rode up to the gates of Venta.
It was evident that the bad news had already arrived. The gates wereclosely shut, while the walls were crowded with spectators anxiouslylooking northwards for signs of the approaching enemy. The porter was atfirst unwilling to admit the strangers, peering anxiously through thewicket at them, and declaring that he must first consult his superior. Oneof the spectators on the wall happened, however, to recognize the Count,and the party was admitted without further question, and rode up at onceto the quarters of the Commander of the Town.
If he had hoped to find an official with whom it would be possible orprofitable to co-operate in the _Princeps_ of Venta, the Count was verymuch disappointed. He was an elderly man, who had realized a fair fortuneby contracting for the provisioning of the army in Southern Britain, andhad done very fairly as long as he had nothing to do but execute theorders of the military governor. Left to himself he was absolutelyhelpless. Indeed he had been taking refuge from his anxieties in thewine-cup, and the Count found him at least half intoxicated. At the momentof the party's arrival the poor creature had reached the valorous stage ofdrunkenness, and was loud in his declarations that there was no possibledanger.
"They will know better," he said, "than to come near Venta. If they do,very few will go back. Indeed I should like nothing better than to givethem a lesson. You shall see something worth looking at if you will giveus the pleasure of your company in our little town for a day or two."
Another cup, which he drained to the prosperity of Britain and theconfusion of her enemies, changed his mood. He now seemed to haveforgotten all about the invaders, insisted on recognizing a dear friend ofpast times in the Count, and invited him to spend the rest of the day intalking over old times.
The Count did not waste many minutes with the old man, but when he leftthe house the darkness had already closed in. After finding with somedifficulty accommodation for Carna, he returned to the gate, anxious tolearn for himself how things were going on. He found the place a scene offrightful confusion. The warders had abandoned their office as hopeless.An incessant stream of fugitives, men, women, and children, mingled withcarts and waggons of every shape and size, was pouring into the town.Every now and then one of these vehicles, brought out perhaps in thesu
dden emergency from the repose of years, broke down and blocked the way.Then the living torrent began to rage at the obstacle, as a river in floodroars about a tree which has fallen across its current. Shortly theoffending vehicle would be removed by main force, and with a very scantyregard for its contents. Then the uproar lulled again, though there neverceased a babel of voices, cursing, entreating, complaining, quarrelling,through all the gamut of notes, from the deepest base to the shrillesttreble. The wall was crowded with the inhabitants of the town, and everyeye was fixed intently on the northern horizon. There, as was only tooplainly to be seen, the sky was reddened with a dull glow, which mighthave been described as a sunrise out of place, but that it was brightenednow and then for a moment by a shoot of flame. "Where are they?" "How soonwill they be here?" were the questions which every one was asking, andwhich no one attempted to answer. The Count made his way with somedifficulty along the top of the rampart in search of some one from whom hemight hope to get some rational account of the situation. At last he foundamong the spectators an old man, whose bearing struck him as havingsomething soldierly about it. A nearer look showed him a militarydecoration. He lost no time in addressing him.
"Comrade," he said, "I see that you have followed the eagles."
The veteran recognized something of the tone of command in the Count'svoice, and made a military salute.
"Yes, sir, so I have, though my sword has been hanging up for more thanthirty years."
"And what do you think of the prospect?"
"Badly, sir, badly. This is just what I feared; but it has come evensooner than I looked for it. Things have been very bad for some time inthe north ever since the garrisons were taken from the Wall,(46) but,except for a troop of robbers now and then, we were fairly safe here. Butnow that these barbarians know that the legions are gone, there will be nostopping them."
"They are the Picts, I hear. Have you ever had to do with them?"
"Yes, sir, I have seen as much of them as ever I want to see. I came tothis island thirty-nine years ago with Theodosius, grandfather, you know,of the Augustus;" and the old man, who was steadfastly loyal to theEmperor, bared his head as he spoke. "I am a Batavian from the island ofthe Rhine, and was then a deputy-centurion in Theodosius' army. We foundBritain full of the savages. They had positively over-run the wholecountry as far as the southern sea, and only the walled towns had escapedthem, and these were almost in despair. I shall never forget how thepeople at Londinium crowded about the general, kissing his hands and feet,when he rode into the town. But I must not tire you with an old soldier'sstories. You ask me about the Picts. They are the worst savages I eversaw, and I have had some experience too. They go naked but for some kindof a skin girdle about their loins, and they are hideously painted, andtheir hair is more like a beast's than a man's, and then they eat humanflesh. Ah, sir, you may shake your head, but I know it. We used to finddead bodies with the fleshy parts cut off where they had been. I shudderto think of what I saw in those days. Well, we gave them a good lesson,drove them back to their own country, and an awful country it is, alllakes and mountains, with not so much as a blade of corn from one end tothe other. But now they will be as bad as ever."
"But you are safe here in Venta, I suppose?"
"Safe! I wish we were. If we had a proper garrison here, there is no oneto command them. You have seen the _Princeps_?"
The Count said nothing, but his silence was significant.
"But there is no garrison. There are not more than fifty men in the placewho have ever carried arms."
"But surely the people will defend themselves. You, as an old soldier,know very well that civilians, who would be quite useless in the field,may do good service behind walls."
"True, sir, if they have two things--a spirit and a leader; and thesepeople, as far as I can tell, have neither."
"That is a bad look out. But tell me--how soon do you think the enemy willbe here?"
"Not to-night, certainly; perhaps not to-morrow. And indeed it is justpossible that they may not come at all. You see that they get a greatquantity of plunder in the country without much trouble or danger, andthey may leave the towns alone. Barbarians mostly don't care to knocktheir heads against stone walls, and of course they think us a great dealstronger than we are."
After making an appointment with his new acquaintance for a meeting on thefollowing day, the Count rejoined his party.
The next day the _Princeps_ called a meeting of the principal burgesses ofthe town, at which the Count, in consideration of his rank as a Romanofficial, was invited to attend. The tone of the meeting was better thanhe had expected. There were one or two resolute men among the localmagistrates, and these contrived to communicate something of their spiritto the rest. A general levy of the inhabitants between the ages of sixteenand sixty was to be made. The town was divided into districts, andrecruiting officers were appointed for each. By an unanimous vote of themeeting the Count was requested to take the chief command. The delay ofthe invaders gave some time for carrying out these preparations fordefence. A force was speedily raised, sufficient, as far at least asnumbers were concerned, to garrison the walls. This was divided intocompanies, each having two watches, which were to be on duty alternately.The whole extent of work was divided among them, and the town was storedwith such missiles as could be collected or manufactured, while Carnabusied herself among the women, organizing the supply of food and drinkfor the guards of the wall, and preparations for the care of the wounded.
The Count of the Saxon Shore; or The Villa in Vectis. Page 20
