The Roman Traitor, Vol. 2

by Henry William Herbert

  CHAPTER XI.

  THE YOUNG PATRICIAN.

  Not always robes of state are worn, Most nobly by the nobly born. H. W. H.

  The light of that eventful morning, which broke, pregnant with ruin to theconspiracy, found Aulus Fulvius and his band, still struggling among therugged defiles which it was necessary to traverse, in order to gain theVia Cassia or western branch of the Great North Road.

  It had been necessary to make a wide circuit, in order to effect this,inasmuch as the Latin road, of which the Labican way was a branch, leftthe city to the South-eastward, nearly opposite to the Flaminian, or northroad, so that the two if prolonged would have met in the forum, and madealmost a right line.

  Nor had this been their only difficulty, for they had been compelled toavoid all the villages and scattered farm houses, which lay on theirroute, in the fear that Julia’s outcries and resistance—for she frequentlysucceeded in removing the bandage from her mouth—would awaken suspicionand cause their arrest, while in the immediate vicinity of Rome.

  At one time, the party had been within a very few miles of the city,passing over the Tiber, scarce five miles above the Mulvian bridge, aboutan hour before the arrest of the ambassadors; and it was from this point,that Aulus sent off his messenger to Lentulus, announcing his success,thereby directly disobeying the commands of Catiline, who had enjoined iton him almost with his last words, to communicate this enterprise to noneof his colleagues in guilt.

  Crossing the Flaminian, or great northern road, they had found a relay offresh horses, stationed in a little grove, of which by this time theystood greatly in need, and striking across the country, at length reachedthe Cassian road, near the little river Galera, just as the sun rose abovethe eastern hills.

  At this moment they had not actually effected above ten miles of theirjourney, as reckoned from the gates of Rome to the camp of Catiline, whichwas nearly two hundred miles distant, though they had traversed nearlyforty during the night, in their wearisome but unavoidable circuit.

  They were, however, admirably mounted on fresh horses, and had procured a_cisium_, or light carriage for two persons, not much unlike in form to alight gig, in which they had placed the unhappy Julia, with a slight boy,the son of Caius Crispus, as the driver.

  By threats of the most atrocious nature, they had at length succeeded incompelling her to temporary silence. Death she had not only despised, butimplored, even when the point of their daggers were razing the skin of hersoft neck; and so terribly were they embarrassed and exasperated by herpersistence, that it is probable they would have taken her life, had itnot been for fear of Catiline, whose orders were express to bring her tohis camp alive and in honor.

  At length Aulus Fulvius had threatened in the plainest language outragesso enormous, that the poor girl’s spirit sank, and that she took an oath,in order to avoid immediate indignities, and those the most atrocious, toremain silent during the next six hours.

  Had she been able to possess herself of any weapon, she would undoubtedlyhave destroyed herself, as the only means she could imagine of escapingwhat to her was worse than loss of life, the loss of honor; and it waschiefly in the hope of effecting this ere nightfall, that she took theoath prescribed to her, in terms of such tremendous sanctity, that noRoman would dream of breaking it, on any pretext of compulsion.

  Liberated by their success in this atrocious scheme, from thatapprehension, they now pushed forward rapidly, and reached the station atBaccanæ, in a wooded gorge between a range of low hills, and a clear lake,at about nine in the morning, of our time, or the third hour by Romancomputation.

  Here they obtained a fresh horse for the vehicle which carried Julia, andtarrying so long only as to swallow a draught of wine, they pressed onwardthrough a steep defile along which the road wound among wooded cragstoward Sutrium.

  At this place, which was a city of some note, they were joined by forty orfifty partisans, well armed and mounted on good horses, all veteransoldiers who had been settled on the confiscated estates of his enemies bythe great usurper Sylla, and thenceforth feeling themselves strong enoughto overawe any opposition they might meet on the way, they journeyed at aslower rate in perfect confidence of success, numbering now not less thansixty well-equipped Cavaliers.

  Before noon, they were thirty miles distant from Rome, and had reached thebottom of a long and almost precipitous ascent where the road, scorningany divergence to the right or left, scaled the abrupt heights of a craggyhill, known at the present day as the Monte Soriano, the ancient name ofwhich has not descended to these times.

  Scarcely however had they reached the first pitch of the hill, in looseand straggling order, when the rearmost rider, came spurring furiously tothe head of the column, and announced to Aulus Fulvius, that they werepursued by a body of men, nearly equal to themselves in number, who werecoming up at a rate so rapid, as made it certain that they would beovertaken, encumbered as they were with the wheeled carriage conveying thehapless Julia.

  A brief council was held, in which, firmly resisting the proposal of thenew-comers to murder their captive, and disperse in small bodies among thehills, Aulus Fulvius and Caius Crispus determined on dividing their meninto two parties. The first of these, commanded by the smith, andconsisting of two-thirds of their whole force, was destined to pressforward as rapidly as possible; while Fulvius, with the second, shouldmake a charge down hill upon the pursuers, by which it was hoped that theymight be so effectually checked and alarmed as to give up the pursuit.

  No time was lost in the execution, a second horse was attached to the_cisium_, for they had many sumpter animals along with them, and severalspare chargers; and so much speed did they make, that Crispus had reachedthe summit of the ridge and commenced the descent before the pursuers hadcome up with Fulvius and the rear.

  There is a little hollow midway the ascent, which is thickly set withevergreen oaks, and hollies, and in the centre of this hollow, the roadmakes a turn almost at right angles.

  Behind the corner of the wood, which entirely concealed them from anypersons coming up the hill, Aulus drew up his men in double lines, and asthe band, whom he suspected to be in pursuit of him, came into the openspace, in loose array, and with their horses blown and weary, he chargedupon them with a fierce shout, and threw them into disorder in a moment.

  Nothing could indicate more clearly, the utter recklessness of theCatilinarian party, and the cheap estimate at which they held human life,than the perfect unconcern with which they set upon a party of men, whoseidentity with those whom they feared was so entirely unproved.

  Nothing, at the same time, could indicate more clearly, the fury anduncalculating valor which had grown up among them, nurtured by the strangepolicy of Catiline, during a peace of eighteen years’ duration.

  Eighteen men, for, Aulus Fulvius included, they numbered no more, setfiercely upon a force of nearly three times their number, with noadvantage of arms or accoutrement, or even of discipline, for although allold soldiers, these men had not, for years, been accustomed to acttogether, nor were any of them personally acquainted with the youngleader, who for the first time commanded them.

  The one link which held them together, was welded out of crime anddesperation. Each man knew that his neighbor, as well as himself, must winor die—there was no compromise, no half-way measure that could by anypossibility preserve them.

  And therefore as one man they charged, as one man they struck, and deathfollowed every blow.

  At their first onset, with horses comparatively fresh, against the blownchargers and disordered mass of their pursuers, they were entirelysuccessful. Above a dozen of their opponents went down horse and man, andthe remainder were driven scattering along the slope, nearly to the footof the declivity.

  Uncertain as he had been at the first who were the men, whom he thusrecklessly attacked, Aulus Fulvius had not well turned the angle of thewood, before he recognized the faces of almost all the leading men of theopposite party.


  They were the oldest and most trusty of the clients of his house; and halfa dozen, at the least, of his own name and kindred led them.

  It needed not a moment therefore, to satisfy him that they were in questof himself, and of himself alone—that they were no organized troop andinvested with no state authority, but merely a band suddenly collectedfrom his father’s household, to bring him back in person from the fatalroad on which he had entered so fatally.

  Well did he know the rigor of the old Roman law, as regarded the paternalpower, and well did he know, the severity with which his father wouldexecute it.

  The terrors inspired by the thought of an avenging country, would havebeen nothing—the bare idea of being surrendered a fettered captive to hisdread father’s indignation, maddened him.

  Fiercely therefore, as he rushed out leading his ambushed followers, thefury of his first charge was mere boy’s play when compared to the virulentand concentrated rage with which he fought, after he had discovered fairlyagainst whom he was pitted.

  Had his men shared his feeling, the pursuers must have been utterlydefeated and cut to pieces, without the possibility of escape.

  But while he recognized his personal enemies in the persons he attacked,the men who followed him as quickly perceived that those, whom they werecutting down, were not regular soldiers, nor led by any Roman magistrate.

  They almost doubted, therefore, as they charged, whether they were not inerror; and when the horsemen of the other faction were discomfitted anddriven down the hill on the instant, they felt no inclination to pursue orharass them farther.

  Not so, however, Aulus. He had observed in the first onset, the featuresof a cousin, whom he hated; and now, added to other motives, the fiercethirst for his kinsman’s blood, stirred his blood almost into frenzy.Knowing, moreover, that he was himself the object of their pursuit, heknew likewise that the pursuit would not be given up for any casual check,but that to conquer, he must crush them.

  Precipitately, madly therefore he drove down the hill, oversettinghorseman after horseman, the greater part of them unwounded—for the shortRoman sword, however efficient at close quarters and on foot, was a mostineffective weapon for a cavalier—until he reached the bottom of the hill.

  There he reined up his charger for a moment, and looked back, waving hishand and shouting loudly to bring on his comrades to a second charge.

  To his astonishment, however, he saw them collected in a body at nearly amile’s distance, on the brow of the first hill, beckoning him to comeback, and evidently possessed by no thought, less than that of riskingtheir lives or liberty by any fresh act of hostility.

  In the mean time, the fugitives, who had now reached the level ground andfound themselves unpressed, began to halt; and before Aulus Fulvius hadwell made up his mind what to do, they had been rallied and reformed, andwere advancing slowly, with a firm and unbroken front, well calculated todeter his handful, which had already been diminished in strength, by oneman killed, and four or five more or less severely wounded, from rashlymaking any fresh attack.

  Alone and unsupported, nothing remained for him but to retreat ifpossible, and make his way back to his people, who, he felt well assuredwould again charge, if again menaced with pursuit. To do this, however,had now ceased to be an easy, perhaps to be a feasible matter.

  Between himself and his own men, there were at least ten of his father’sclients; several of them indeed were wounded, and all had been overthrownin the shock either by himself or his troopers; but they had all regainedtheir horses, and—apparently in consequence of some agreement or tacitunderstanding with his comrades, were coming down the hill at a gentletrot to rejoin their own party.

  Now it was that Aulus began to regret having sent forward the smith, andthose of the conspirators to whom he was individually known, with Julia inthe van. Since of the fellows who had followed him thus far, merelybecause inferior will always follow superior daring, and who now appearedmightily inclined to desert him, not three were so much as acquainted withhis name, and not one had any intimacy with him, or indeed any communityof feeling unless it were the community of crime.

  These things flashed upon Aulus in an instant; the rather that he saw thehated cousin, whom he had passed unnoticed in his headlong charge, quietlybringing the clients into line between himself and his waveringassociates.

  He was in fact hemmed in on every side; he was alone, and his horse, whichhe had taxed to the uttermost, was wounded and failing fast.

  His case was indeed desperate, for he could now see that his own factionwere drawing off already with the evident intention of rejoining the bulkof the party, careless of his fate, and glad to escape at so small asacrifice.

  Still, even in this extremity he had no thought of surrender—indeed to himdeath and surrender were but two names for one thing.

  He looked to the right and to the left, if there were any possibility ofscaling the wooded slopes and so rejoining the sturdy swordsmith withoutcoming to blows again with his father’s household; but one glance told himthat such hopes were vain indeed. On either hand the crags roseinaccessible even to the foot of man, unless he were a practisedmountaineer.

  Then rose the untamed spirit of his race, the firm Roman hardihood,deeming naught done while anything remains to do, and holding all thingsfeasible to the bold heart and ready hand—the spirit which saved Rome whenHannibal was thundering at her gates, which made her from a petty town thequeen and mistress of the universe.

  He gathered his reins firmly in his hand, and turning his horse’s headdown the declivity put the beast to a slow trot, as if he had resolved toforce his way toward Rome; but in a moment, when his manœuvre had, as heexpected caused the men in his rear to put their horses to their speed,and thus to break their line, he again wheeled, and giving his charger thespur with pitiless severity drove up the steep declivity like athunderbolt, and meeting his enemies straggling along in succession,actually succeeded in cutting down two, before he was envelopped, unhorsedand disarmed, which, as his cousin’s men came charging up and down theroad at once, it was inevitable that he must be from the beginning.

  "Curses upon thee! it is thou!" he said, grinding his teeth and shakinghis weaponless hand at his kinsman in impotent malignity—"it is thou!Caius. Curses upon thee! from my birth thou hast crossed me."

  "It were better thou hadst died, Aulus," replied the other solemnly, butin sorrow more than anger, "better that thou hadst died, than been so ledback to Rome."

  "Why didst _thou_ not kill me then?" asked Aulus with a sneer of sarcasticspite—"Why dost thou not kill me now."

  "Thou art _sacro sanctus_!" answered the other, with an expression ofhorror in his eyes—"doomed, set apart, sanctified unto destruction—words,alas! henceforth avail nothing. Bind him"—he continued, turning toward hismen—"Bind him, I say, hard, with his hands behind his back, and his legsunder his horse’s belly! Go your way," he added, "Go to your bloody camp,and accursed leader"—waving his hand as he spoke, to the veterans above,who seemed half inclined to make an effort to rescue the prisoner. "Goyour way. We have no quarrel with you now; we came for him, and having gothim we return."

  "What?" cried the dark-eyed boy who had come up too late to the Latinvilla on the preceding night, and who, strange to state, was riding withthe clients of the Fulvian house, unwearied—"What, will you not save_her_? will you not do that for which alone I led ye hither? will you befalsifiers of your word and dishonored?"

  "Alas!" answered Caius Fulvius, "it is impossible.—We are outnumbered, mypoor boy, and may not aid you, as we would; but be of good cheer, thisvillain taken, they will not dare to harm her."

  The youth shook his head mournfully; but made no reply.

  Aulus, however, who had heard all that was said, glared savagely upon theboy, and after examining his features minutely for a moment exclaimed—"Iknow thy face! who art thou! quick thy name?"

  "I have no name!" replied the other gloomily.

  "That voice! I know thee!" he shouted,
an expression of infernal joyanimating his features. "Thou miserable fool, and driveller! and is it forthis—for this, that thou hast brought the bloodhounds on my track, torestore _her_ to _him_? Mark me, then, mark me, and see if I am notavenged—her dishonor, her agony, her infamy are no less certain than mydeath. Catiline, Catiline shall avenge me upon her—upon him—upon thee—thouweaker, more variable thing than—woman! Catiline! think’st thou he willfail?"

  "He hath failed ere now!" replied the boy proudly.

  "Failed! when?" exclaimed Aulus, forgetting his own situation in theexcitement of the wordy contest.

  "When he crossed me"—then turning once more to the leader of the Fulvianclients, the dark-eyed boy said in a calm determined voice, "You will not,therefore, aid me?"

  "We cannot."

  "Enough! Look to him, then, that he escape you not."

  "Fear us not. But whither goest thou?"

  "To rescue Julia. Tell thou to Arvina how these things have fallen out,and whither they have led her; and, above all, that one is on her traceswho will die or save her."

  "Ha! ha!" laughed Aulus savagely in the glee of his vengeful triumph,"Thou wilt die, but not save her. I am avenged, already—avenged in Julia’sruin!"

  "Wretch!" exclaimed his kinsman, indignant and disgusted—"almost it shamesme that my name is Fulvius! Fearful, however, is the punishment thatoverhangs thee! think on that, Aulus! and if shame fetter not thy tongue,at least let terror freeze it."

  "Terror? of whom? perhaps of thee, accursed?"

  "Aulus. Thou hast—a father!"

  At that word father, his eyes dropped instantly, their haughty insolenceabashed; his face turned deadly pale; his tongue _was_ frozen; he spoke noword again until at an early hour of morning, they reached the house hehad so fatally dishonored.

  Meanwhile, as the party, who had captured him, returned slowly with theirprisoner down the mountain side, the last of the rebels having galloppedoff long before to join the swordsmith and his gang, the boy, who took sodeep an interest in Julia, dismounted from the white horse, which hadborne him for so many hours with unabated fire and spirit, and leaving thehigh road, turned into a glade among the holm oaks, watered by a smallstreamlet, leading his courser by the rein.

  Having reached a secluded spot, quite removed from sight of the highway,he drew from a small wallet, which was attached to the croupe, some piecesof coarse bread and a skin of generous wine, of which he partook sparinglyhimself, giving by far the larger portion to his four-footed friend, whogreedily devoured the cake saturated with the rich grape-juice.

  This done he fastened the beast to a tree so that he could both graze anddrink from the stream; and then throwing himself down at length on thegrass, he soon fell into a heavy and quiet sleep.

  It was already sunset, when he awoke, and the gray hues of night weregathering fast over the landscape; but he seemed to care nothing for theapproaching darkness as he arose reinvigorated and full of spirit, andwalked up to his horse which whinnied his joyful recognition, and tossedhis long thin mane with a spirited and fiery air, as he felt thewell-known hand clapping his high arched crest.

  "Courage! brave horse," he cried—"Courage, White Ister. We will yet saveher, for—Arvina!"

  And, with the words he mounted, and cantered away through the gloom of thewoodland night, on the road toward Bolsena, well assured of the routetaken by Caius Crispus and his infernal crew.