XV
The army was marching along the left bank of the Euphrates; on thebroad plain, level as the sea, and covered with silvery wormwood, nota tree was in sight. On all sides lay grass and sweet-smelling bushes.From time to time, troops of wild asses appeared on the horizon,raising clouds of dust. Ostriches were seen running; and the soldiersused to roast the delicate flesh of the bustard at their camp-fires.Jests and songs lasted till night-fall. The desert received thesesoldiers, hungry for glory, booty, and blood, with mute caresses,starry nights, gentle dawns and sunsets, night-coolnesses breathingthe bitter smell of wormwood. Deeper and deeper they plunged into thesolitudes, without meeting the enemy. Hardly had they passed when calmdescended on the plain, as on the sea over a sunken ship; and thegrass, trampled by the legionaries, lifted up anew its soft spears.
Suddenly the desert became menacing. Clouds hid the sky; rains began;and a soldier watering his horses was killed by lightning. At the endof April came the heats. Soldiers envied their comrades who marched inthe shadow of a dromedary or of a wagon. The men of the north, Gaulsand Sicambri, began to die of sunstroke. The plains became sad, bare,tufted here and there with scorched grass, and every step sank intothe sand. Fierce gusts of wind assailed the army, tearing thestandards from their poles, and blowing away tents. Then again a calmwas restored which in its strangeness and profundity, seemed to thefrightened soldiers more terrible than tempest. Raillery andmarching-songs ceased; but the march went on, day after day; and yetthey never caught a glimpse of the enemy.
At the beginning of May the palm-groves of Assyria were reached.
At Mazeprakt, where lay ruins of the enormous wall constructed byancient Syrian kings, the enemy was seen for the first time. ThePersians hastily retreated, and under a rain of poisoned arrows theRomans crossed the wide canal joining the Euphrates to the Tigris.This magnificent piece of engineering, made of Babylonian brick,cutting Mesopotamia in two, was called Nazar Malka, the River ofKings. Suddenly the Persians disappeared. The waters of the NazarMalka rose, overflowed the banks, and flooded the vast surroundingplains. The Persians had organised the inundation by opening thesluices and dykes which lay on all sides, threatening the friablewastes. The foot-soldiers marched on, up to the knees in water, andtheir legs sank deep into mud. Entire companies disappeared intoinvisible ditches. Even horsemen and dromedaries with their burdensvanished suddenly. The track had to be sounded for with poles. Thewhole desert was transformed into a lake, and the palm-groves appearedlike islands.
"Whither are we going?" the cowardly began to murmur. "Why not retireat once to the river, and get on shipboard? We are soldiers; not frogsmade for dabbling through mud!"
Julian marched on foot with the infantry, even in the most difficultplaces. He helped to haul the labouring chariots out of mud-holes bytheir wheels; and laughed at his own soaked and clay-stained purple.Fascines and floating bridges were formed of palm stems; and atnight-fall the army succeeded in reaching a dry place. The soldiersfell asleep, utterly exhausted.
In the morning they saw the fortress of Perizaborh.
From the tops of walls and inaccessible towers, spread with thickcarpets and goat-skins, to defend them from the shock ofsiege-weapons, the Persians poured down scorn upon their enemies.
The whole day passed in the exchange of insults and projectiles. Then,profiting by the darkness of a moonless night, the Romans, in absolutesilence, carried the catapults and battering-ram from their ships(which had all this way accompanied the march) and propped theseweapons against the walls of Perizaborh. The fosses were filled withearth, and by means of a _malleolus_, or enormous spindle-shapedarrow, full of an inflammable matter, made of pitch, sulphur, oil, andbitumen, the Romans succeeded in setting the goatskin carpets on fire.
The Persians rushed to extinguish the conflagration, and profiting bythe momentary confusion the Emperor ordered an attack by the greatbattering-ram. This was a huge pine-stem, swung by chains from apyramidal tower of beams, and pointed by a ram's head in metal. Ahundred strong legionaries, hauling in rhythm on thick ropes made ofox-sinew, slowly heaved and balanced the enormous shaft. The firstblow sounded like the rumbling of thunder. Earth shook and the wallsresounded. The furious ram butted his metal head in a swift andtremendous succession of blows against the walls. There was a greatcrash; an entire corner of the wall had given way. The Persians, withdespairing cries, fled in all directions; and Julian, the star ofwhose helmet glittered through clouds of dust, bright and terrible asthe star of Mars, galloped into the conquered town.
For two days the army rested under the fresh and shadowy groves on theother side of the city; the men regaling themselves with a kind ofwine made of palm-juice, and amber-clear dates from Babylon.
Then they resumed their march and entered a rocky plain.
The heat was painful. Men and horses died in great numbers. At noonthe air danced above the rocks in burning rays, and through theashen-grey desert wound the silvery waves of Tigris, like a lazyserpent basking his coils in the sun.
The Romans saw at length, beyond the Tigris, a lofty rock rising,rose-coloured, bare and jagged. This was the second fortress defendingCtesiphon, the southern capital of Persia. It was a place far moredifficult to take than Perizaborh, and soared to the clouds like aneagle's nest.
The sixteen towers and double enclosing walls of Maogamalki were builtwith the famous bricks of Babylon, sun-dried and mortared withbitumen, like all the ancient monuments of Assyria, which fear not thecenturies.
The attack commenced. Again the ungainly slings groaned, and thepulleys of _scorpions_ and _onagers_, or frames for flinging stones.Again huge flaming beams hissed like arrows from their engines. At thehour when even lizards go to sleep in fissures of the rock, thesun-rays fell vertically on the backs and heads of soldiers, stiflingthem like a crushing weight. The desperate legionaries, in defiance oftheir officers and of increased danger, snatched off their helmetsand bloodied armour, preferring the chance of wounds to enduring thatfearful heat. Above the brown towers and loopholes of Maogamalki,vomiting poisoned arrows, lances, stones, leaden bullets, and Persianfire-darts of choking sulphur, stretched the dazzling blue-grey of adusty sky, blind and implacable as death.
The heavens beat down the hatred of men. Besiegers and besieged,utterly exhausted, ceased fighting. And a silence of noon-day, moresullen than the blackest night, fell on both hosts.
The Romans lost no whit of their courage. After the taking ofPerizaborh they believed in the invincibility of the Emperor, comparedhim to Alexander the Great, and expected miracles from him.
For several days, on the east side of Maogamalki where the rocky steepwas less abrupt, soldiers were set to hollow a tunnel. This mine,passing under the walls of the fortress, led up to the centre of thetown. The width of the passage--three cubits--allowed two soldiers toproceed abreast. Huge beams at intervals supported the ceiling. Thediggers worked gaily. The damp and obscurity seemed delicious to themafter the excess of sunlight.
"A day or two ago we were frogs and now we're moles," said thesoldiers to each other, laughing.
Three cohorts, the Mattiarians, Lactiniarians, and Victorians, fifteenhundred picked men, keeping the sternest silence, crawled into thesubterranean passage, impatiently waiting orders to burst into thetown. At daybreak the attack was expressly directed on two oppositesides, in order to divert the attention of the Persians, and Julianhimself led up the soldiers by a single narrow path under a hail ofstones and arrows.
"We shall see," he said to himself with glee at the danger; "we shallsee if the gods preserve me, or if, by a miracle, I shall escape deatheven now."
Some irresistible curiosity, or thirst for the supernatural, urged himto expose himself, and with a defiant smile to challenge Fate to doher worst. It was not death he feared, but only defeat in hispurposeless and intoxicating game against the higher powers.
The soldiers followed him on, fascinated by and catching the contagionof his mad mood.
Meantime the Persians, lau
ghing at the efforts of the besiegers, weresinging on the battlements songs in glory of King Sapor, "Son of theSun." And from the precipitous terraces they shouted to the Romans:
"Julian will scale the heavenly palace of Ormuzd before he gets intoour fortress!"
When the fire of action had risen to its hottest, the Emperor, in alow voice, sent word to his officers on the far side of the city.
The legionaries hidden in the tunnel burst out into the interior ofthe city, and found themselves in the cellar of a house where an oldPersian woman was kneading bread. She uttered a piercing cry at thesight of the Roman legionaries, and was promptly killed. Then, glidingunperceived, they threw themselves on the rear of the besieged. ThePersians flung down their arms, and scattered into the streets. TheRomans then rushed to the city gates, and by the double assault thetown was taken. From that moment not a legionary doubted that theEmperor, like Alexander of Macedon, would conquer the whole of thePersian Empire as far as the Indies.
Leaving its larger ships behind on the Euphrates, the army now drewnear to Ctesiphon, on the river Tigris. But Julian, whose almostunnaturally feverish imagination gave his enemies no time to recover,made practicable the old Roman canal, hollowed by Trajan and SeptimiusSeverus between the Tigris and the Euphrates; the same channel thathad been filled in and flooded by the Persians. By this means thewhole fleet left the Euphrates and reached the Tigris a little aboveCtesiphon. The conqueror found himself thus at the centre of theAsiatic Empire.
On the following day Julian summoned a council of war and declaredthat the troops should be transported that night to the other bank,under the walls of the capital. Dagalaif, Hormizdas, Secundinus,Victor, Sallustius, all seasoned warriors, were terrified at thisidea. For hours they strove to persuade the Emperor to relinquish sorash a project, urging the fatigue of the soldiers, the width andrapid currents of the river, the steepness of the banks, the proximityof Ctesiphon, and the innumerable army of Sapor; the Persians beingcertain to make a sortie at the moment of disembarkation. Julian wouldlisten to nothing.
"Wait as long as we will," he exclaimed impatiently, "the river willnot grow narrower nor the banks less steep; and the Persian army willget bigger every day we delay. If I had listened to your advice, weshould still be at Antioch."
The chiefs left his tent in consternation.
"He cannot last long in this mood," murmured the well-tried and wilyDagalaif, a Goth grown old in the service of Rome. "Remember what Itell you. He seems gay, and even laughs, but there is something ill inhis expression. I've seen it in people who are close to despair ordeath. That gaiety augurs evil."
The warm misty twilight descended rapidly on the immenseriver-reaches. At a given signal five galleys bearing four hundredwarriors, were unlashed from their moorings, and for long nothing washeard but the regular dip of their muffled oars. Then, silence. Theobscurity became impenetrable. Julian gazed fixedly in the directionin which the boats had disappeared, concealing his emotion underaffected cheerfulness. The generals muttered among themselves.Suddenly a blaze lit up the night. Everyone drew his breath, and alllooks were turned on the Emperor. He understood what that blaze meant.The Persians had succeeded in setting light to the Roman ships, bymeans of fire-balls hurled from engines on the other bank.
Julian grew pale, but immediately collecting himself and giving hissoldiers no time to think, he rushed into the first ship lying alongshore and shouted to the army--
"Victory, victory! Do you see that fire? They have landed and aremasters of the bank. I myself ordered the cohorts to light the bonfireas a signal of success. Follow me, comrades!"
"What is this?" muttered the prudent Sallustius in his ear. "All islost; that fire is on board our galleys...."
"Caesar has gone mad!" groaned the terrified Hormizdas to Dagalaif.That wily barbarian shrugged his shoulders in perplexity.
With an irresistible impulse the legions dashed down to the river, allranks elbowing each other and shouting "Victory! victory!" Jostling,falling into the water, dragging each other out, the men swarmed onboard.
A few small boats nearly sank; and there was no room on the galleys totake over all. Many cavalry swam across, hanging to the manes andtails of their horses. The Celts and Batavians flung themselves intothe water, pushing over, afloat, their great hollowed leather shields.Through fog they swam, many being caught and whirled round in eddies,but regardless of danger they too shouted "Victory, victory!" from thewater. So great was the number of ships that the current was slightlybroken, thus aiding the swimmers. The conflagration of the first fivegalleys was extinguished without difficulty. Then only did all ranksunderstand the Emperor's audacious ruse. But the spirit of thesoldiers rose still higher after the avoidance of such a danger. Noweverything seemed possible.
A little before dawn they made themselves masters of the heights ofthe far bank, but hardly had the Romans time for a brief rest on theirarms when they saw at daybreak a vast army sally from the walls ofCtesiphon into the plain round the city.
The battle lasted twelve hours. The Persians fought with thefierceness of despair. Julian's army here saw for the first time thegreat war-elephants which could crush a cohort like a tuft of grass.Never had the Romans won such a victory since the great days of theEmperors Trajan, Vespasian, and Titus.
On the following morning at daybreak Julian brought a gratefuloffering to Ares, the god of war. It consisted of ten white bulls,beautiful beasts like those on the old Greek bas-reliefs. The wholearmy was given up to merrymaking. Only the Tuscan wizards, who atevery victory of Julian's had become more sombre, mute, and enigmatic,remained obstinately sullen.
The first bull, arrayed with laurels, was led to the smoking altar. Hewalked slowly and passively. Suddenly he stumbled to his knees, lowingpitifully, almost humanly, so that a thrill ran through thespectators; and then, burying his muzzle in the dust, shuddered.Before the axe of the slayer had touched his forehead he had reeledover and died. A second bull similarly fell dead, then a third and afourth. All paced weakly to the altar, seeming hardly able to standupright, as if attacked by some mortal malady.
The army was in dismay at the presage. Some said that the Etruscanwizards had poisoned the bulls, to revenge themselves for theEmperor's contempt for their art. Nine bulls thus fell, and the tenth,snapping his bonds, escaped, and rushed bellowing through the campbeyond hope of recapture.
The ceremonial became disorganised, and the augurs smiled amongthemselves a satisfied smile. When the entrails of the dead bulls wereopened Julian, being skilled in magic, saw at a glance terrifyingomens in the organs. He turned aside, his brow dark with wrath,attempting but failing to assume carelessness.
Turning again he approached the altar and spurned it violently withhis foot. The altar reeled, but did not fall. The crowd uttered deepsighs and the prefect Sallustius rushed towards the Emperor,whispering--
"The men are looking! It would be better to cut short thesacrifice...."
Julian waved him away, and overturned the altar with his foot. Theembers were scattered and the fire extinguished, but the fragrantsmoke still thickly ascended.
"Woe, woe upon us! The altar is profaned!" groaned a voice.
"I tell you he is mad," growled Hormizdas, grasping Dagalaif's arm."Look at him.... How is it that the rest don't see it?"
The Etruscan augurs watched the proceedings, motionless, withimperturbable faces.
Julian's eyes kindled and he raised his arms to the sky. He cried--
"I swear by the eternal joy, locked here, in my heart, I renounce You,as you have renounced me! I abandon you as you have abandoned me,impotent Deities! Single-handed against you, phantom Olympians, I amlike unto you, but not your equal, because I am a man and you are onlygods!... Long, long has my heart aspired to this deliverance; and nowI break our alliance, laugh at my superstitious terrors, at yourchildish oracles. I was living like a slave, and I might have died aslave! I understand that I am stronger than the gods, because, vowedto death, I have conquered death! No melanch
oly, no fear, no victims,no prayer! All that is past. Henceforth in my life there shall not bea single shade, nor trembling. Nothing! except that everlastingOlympian smile which I have learnt from you, the Dead! Nothing, butthe sacred fire of which I rob you, O Immortals! Mine be the cloudlesssky in which you have dwelt till now, and from which you have died, togive place to man-gods! Maximus! Maximus! you were right; over my soulyour mind hovers still...."
An augur of ninety years old put his hand on the shoulder of theEmperor.
"Speak lower, my son, speak lower. If thou hast understood themystery, rejoice in silence! Tempt not the crowd. Those who hear theecannot understand."
The general murmurs of indignation became louder.
"He's raving," said Hormizdas to Dagalaif. "Take him to his tent, orall will go ill!"
Oribazius, like the devoted physician that he was, took Julian's handand began to persuade him soothingly.
"Well-beloved Augustus, you must take rest. There are dangerous feversin this country. Come into the tent. The sun is hurtful.... Yourillness may get worse!"
The Emperor looked at him with a pre-occupied air.
"Stay, Oribazius, I have forgotten something.... Ah, yes, yes!... Itis the chiefest thing of all! Listen. Say not, 'The gods are no more,'but rather 'The gods as yet are not.' They are not, but they shallexist; not in fables, but on earth. We shall all be gods, all; only tobecome so we must create in ourselves such daring as no man has yetfelt, not even Alexander!"
The agitation of the army became more pronounced. Murmurs andexclamations joined into a general hum of indignation. No one clearlyunderstood; but everyone had a suspicion that something abnormal wasgoing on.
Some cried:
"Sacrilege! Set up the altar again!"
Others answered:
"The sacrificial priests have poisoned Caesar because he would notlisten to them! Let us kill them! They are bringing ruin on us!"
The Galileans took advantage of the occasion, and slipped about fromgroup to group, whispering and inventing pieces of scandal.
"Were you watching the Emperor? It is the chastisement of God on him.Devils have seized him and troubled his mind. That's why he revoltsagainst his own gods. He has renounced the One God!"
As if awaking from a deep sleep, the Emperor looked slowly over thecrowd, and at last asked Oribazius, indifferently:
"What is the matter--these shouts? What has happened? Ah, yes!... thealtar upset!"
And contemplating the extinct embers with a sad smile he said:
"Do you know, my learned friends, one cannot offend people more thanby telling them the truth!... Poor simple children!... Well, let themcry, let them weep, they will get over it! Come, Oribazius, we will gointo the shade. You are right, the sun is dangerous. I am tired, andmy eyes hurt me...."
Julian went slowly away leaning on the arm of the doctor. At the doorof his tent he made a languid sign that all should leave him. Thedoor-curtain was lowered, and the tent plunged in darkness.
The Emperor went up to the camp-bed, a lion's skin, and sank on itexhausted. He remained stretched thus a long time, holding his headtightly in his hands, as in childhood, after some fit of anger ordisappointment.
"Quiet! quiet! Caesar is ill!" the generals said, to calm the soldiers.
And the men were immediately dumb.
Throughout the Roman camp, as in the chamber of the dying, reigned thesilence of painful expectation. The Galileans alone took time by theforelock, gliding furtively hither and thither, penetratingeverywhere, hawking about sinister rumours, and, like reptiles wakedby the sun's warmth after their winter's sleep, ceaselessly whispered:
"Do you not understand? This is the punishment of God on him!"
The Death of the Gods Page 39
