CHAPTER XXI
PROCOPIUS TO CETHEGUS:
It is over! Thank God, or whoever else may be entitled to ourgratitude. Three months, full of utter weariness, we remained encampedbefore the mountain of defiance. It is March; the nights are stillcool, but at noonday the sun already burns with scorching heat. Anattempted flight was baffled by treachery; Verus, Gelimer's chancellorand closest friend, deserves the credit of this base deed. Obeying thepriest's directions we sought the Soloes concealed on the southernslope who were to accompany the fugitives to the sea, but found onlythe prints of numerous hoofs. We blocked the outlet. Then the Kingvoluntarily, without any farther trouble, offered to surrender. Farawas greatly delighted; he would have granted any condition that enabledhim to deliver the King a captive to Belisarius, who was even moreimpatient for the end of the war than we. At the entrance of theravine, which we had never been able to penetrate, I received thelittle band of Vandals--about twenty were left. The Moors, too, camedown; at Gelimer's earnest entreaty, Fara immediately set them atliberty. These Vandals--what images of misery, famine, privation,sickness, suffering! I do not understand how they could still hold out,still offer resistance. They could scarcely carry their arms, andwillingly allowed us to take them.
But when I saw and talked with Gelimer--crushed though he is now--Irealized that this man's mind and will could control, rule, supportothers as long as he desired. I have never seen any human being likehim,--a monk, an enthusiast, and yet a royal hero.
I entreated Fara to let me shelter him in my tent. While we couldscarcely restrain the others from immoderately greedy indulgence inmeats and other foods of which they had long been deprived, hevoluntarily continued the fast so long forced upon him. Fara withdifficulty induced him to drink some wine; the Herulian probably fearedthat his prisoner would die on the way, before he could deliver him toBelisarius. For a long time he refused; but when I suggested that hewas probably seeking death in this way, he at once drank the wine andate some bread.
Long and fully, for nearly half the night, he talked with me, full ofgentle submission, concerning his destiny. It is touching, impressive,to hear him attribute everything to the providence of God. But I cannotalways follow his train of thought. For instance, I remarked that,after holding out so long, the baffled attempt to escape had probablycaused the sudden resolution to surrender. He smiled sadly and replied:"Oh, no. Had our flight been frustrated by any other reason, I wouldhave held out unto death. But Verus, Verus!" He was silent, then headded: "You will not understand it. But now I know that God hasabandoned me, if He was ever with me. Now I know this, too, was sin,was hollow vanity, that I loved my people so ardently that from pridein the Asding blood, in our ancient warlike fame, I would not yield,would not surrender. We must love God alone, and live only for Heaven!"
Just at that moment Fara broke into the tent somewhat rudely.
"You have, not kept your promise. King!" he cried wrathfully. "Youagreed to deliver up all the weapons and field flags, but the mostimportant prize,--Belisarius specially urged me to look to it, for hesaw it rescued from the battle, and I myself noticed it in a woman'shand a short time ago, when we made the attack,--King Genseric's greatbanner, is missing. Our people, I myself, guided by Vandals, havesearched everywhere on the mountain; we found nothing except, among theashes of a burned hut, with some bones, these gold nails,--the Vandalssay they belonged to the pole of the banner. Did you burn it?"
"Oh, no, my Lord, I should not have grudged you and Belisarius thebauble; a woman did it Hilda. She killed herself. O God, I beseech Theefor her: forgive her!" And this is not hypocrisy. I hardly understandit. Yet these strange events force upon me thoughts which usually Iwould willingly avoid. Whoever has once meddled with philosophy--I shunit, but carry it ever in my brain--will never again escape thequestioning concerning the Why?
Lucky accidents have always happened in the destinies of men;but whether any enterprise has ever been attended with such goodfortune as ours is doubtful. Belisarius himself marvels. Fivethousand horsemen,--for our foot-soldiers scarcely entered thebattle,--strangers who, after they were put on shore, had no refuge,no citadel, possessed no spot of ground in all Africa except thesoil on which they stood, did not know where they were to lay theirheads,--five thousand horsemen, in two short conflicts, against tentimes their number, destroyed the kingdom of the terrible Genseric,took his grandson prisoner, seized his royal citadel and royaltreasures! It is incomprehensible. If I had not witnessed it myself, Iwould not have believed it. After all, is there a God dwelling in theclouds who wonderfully guides the destinies of men?
Belisarius's generalship, and our brave, battle-trained army did much;something, though not a large share, was accomplished, as now appears,by Verus's long-planned treachery, carried out to the end. Without ourknowledge, he has corresponded all this time with the Emperor, andespecially with the Empress. The most was due to the degeneracy of thepeople, except the royal House, which lost three men in the struggle.The incomprehensible, contradictory nature of this King alsocontributed to the destruction. Yet all these things would not haveproduced the result so speedily, but for the unexampled good fortunewhich has attended us from the beginning.
And this luck--is it blind? Is it the work of God, Who desired topunish the Vandals for the sins of their forefathers and for theirown? It may be so. And not without reverence do I bow to such a rule.But--and here again the mocking doubt which never entirely deserts me,again rises in my mind--then we must say that God is not fastidious inHis choice of tools, for this Gelimer and his brothers are hardlysurpassed in virtue by Theodora, Justinian, Belisarius himself;perhaps, O Cethegus, not even by the friend who has written you theselines.