CHAPTER IX.
THE DEPARTURE OF THE LEGIONS.
The resolution to leave Britain was announced at a general meeting of thesoldiers on the following day, and was received by it with tremendousenthusiasm. To most who were present, Gaul seemed a land of promise. Itwas from Gaul that almost every article of luxury that they either had orwished to have was imported, and some of the necessities of life, asnotably wine, were known to be both better and cheaper there than inBritain. Comfortable quarters in wealthy cities, which were ready to befriendly, or could easily be brought to reason if they were not; easycampaigns, not against naked Picts, but against civilized enemies who hadsomething to lose; and when the time of service was over, a snug littlefarm, with corn land, pasture, and vineyard, and a hard-working native totill it--such were the dreams which floated through the soldiers' minds;and they were ready to go anywhere with the man who promised to make theminto realities. Older and more prudent men who knew that there were twosides to the question, and the unadventurous, who were well content tostay where they were, could not resist the tide of popular feeling, andconcealed, if they did not abandon, their doubts and scruples. As moneywas scarce, the men volunteered to forego their pay till it could bereturned to them with large interest in the shape of prize-money. Theyeven gave up to the melting pot the silver ornaments from their arms andfrom the trappings of their horses. The messengers who were sent with thetidings of the proposed movement to the other camps--which were now mainlyto be found in the southern part of the island--found the troops everywherewell disposed, and within a few days every military station was alive withthe stir and bustle of preparations for a move.
One of the most pressing cares of the new leaders of the army was thesecuring the means of transport. There was a great number of merchantships, indeed, which could be pressed into the service, and which wouldperform it very well if only the passage in the Channel could be madewithout meeting opposition. The question to be considered was whether theycould reckon upon this, or would the fleet, which was still supposed toacknowledge the authority of Honorius, prevent them from crossing. Thechief person to be reckoned with in this matter was, of course, the Countof the Shore, and a despatch was immediately sent to him. It was theproduction of Constans, and ran thus--
"_Constantine, Emperor of Britain and the West, to Lucius AElius, Count ofthe Saxon Shore, greeting._
"_Having been called to Empire by the unanimous voice of the People andArmy of Britain, and desiring to give deliverance from tyranny andprotection from violence to other provinces besides this my Island ofBritain, I purpose to transport such forces as it may be necessary to usefor this purpose to the land of Gaul. I call upon you therefore, havingfull confidence in your loyalty, to give me such assistance as may be inyour power, for the accomplishment of this end, and promise you, on theother hand, my favour and protection. Farewell._
"_Given at the Camp of the Great Harbour._"
The Count received this communication about ten days after his arrival atthe villa. The writer would scarcely have been pleased at the commentswhich he made as he read it.
"'Constantine, Emperor.' How many more Emperors are we to have in thisunlucky island? 'Of Britain and the West.' And I doubt whether he can calla foot of ground his own fifty miles from the camp. 'To deliver otherprovinces from oppression and violence.' Why not begin by trying his handat home? 'Full confidence in my loyalty.' Truly valuable praise from soexcellent a judge in the matter. 'Such assistance as may be in my power.'Well, I should be glad to see the last of this crew of adventurers andvillains; but he sha'n't have my ships."
The Count's position indeed was one of singular difficulty. He had thoughtit best--indeed he had found it necessary, if he was to do his own work--tokeep on friendly terms with the usurpers who had gone before Constantine.It had been quite hopeless for him to attempt to coerce the legions. Ifthey chose to make Emperors for themselves, he must let them do it, solong as they did not interfere with his liberty as a loyal subject. Butthis was a different matter. Crossing over into Gaul meant downrighthostility to the authorities in Italy. How could he help it forward? Andyet how could he prevent it? He had three ships available. All the otherswere laid up for the winter in harbours on the eastern and south-easternshores of the island. With these he might do some damage to the legions intheir passage; but the passage he could not hope to prevent. And if he didprevent it, what would be his own future relations with the army? Clearlyhe could not stay in Vectis, or indeed anywhere in Britain, for there wasno place which he could hope to hold against a small detachment of thearmy. And to go, though it could easily be done, and would save him a vastamount of trouble, would be to give up his whole work, and to leave theunhappy inhabitants of the coast without protection from the pirates ofthe East. After long and anxious deliberation, which he did not disdain toshare with his daughter and Carna, he resolved on a middle course, byfollowing which he would neither help nor hinder. The first thing was toseek an interview with Constantine or his representatives, and a messengerwas accordingly despatched suggesting a conference to be held onshipboard, under a flag of truce, off the mouth of the Great Harbour.
The proposition was accepted, and three days afterwards the conference washeld, in the way that the Count had suggested. Each party brought a singleship, which was anchored for the greater convenience of carrying on theconversation, but was perfectly ready to slip its anchor in case of anythreatening of treachery. The Count's vessel had the Imperial standard atits mast-head; Constantine's, on the other hand, had no distinguishingcharacteristic. Both he and his two sons were present, but the father wasas silent as usual, and the chief spokesman was Julian.
The Count was very brief in his greetings, and indicated, as plainly as hecould without saying it in so many words, that he did not acknowledge thepretensions of the usurper.
"My lord," he said, "you have asked me to help in the transport of yourarmy across the Channel. Briefly then I have not the means. I have butthree ships ready for sea, and not one of these can I spare."
"The Emperor can command their services," said Julian.
"I have received no instructions from my master," returned the Count, "touse them except for the protection of the coast."
"You have them now," said Julian, "and you will refuse to obey them atyour peril."
"My commission is made out by Flavius Honorius Augustus, and I know noother to whom I can yield obedience."
A pause followed this plain speech; the party on board with Constantinedebated the situation with some heat, Julian maintaining that the Countmust be brought to reason, the others being anxious to keep on good termswith him.
"A single cohort can bring him to order," cried the young Prince.
"Can drive him out of the villa doubtless," said the more prudentConstans, "but not bring us an inch nearer getting the ships."
"We may at least count on your friendship," said Constans, Julian retiringsulkily from the negotiations; "you will not hinder the passage."
"I have nothing to do with the disposition of the legions," answered theCount, "and, as I said before, have no instructions except to defend theshore against the Pirates."
"His Majesty will not be ungrateful," said Constans.
"I owe no duty but to Honorius, and desire no favour but from him," wasthe Count's reply, and the conference was at an end.
The result was as favourable as Constantine could have expected. At leastno opposition would be offered. Preparations for the passage wereaccordingly hurried on with all possible speed. All the towns along thecoast were put under requisition for all the shipping that they couldfurnish, and, for the most part, were glad enough to answer the call.Whatever might happen in the future, it would be at least something to berid of such troublesome neighbours. If other legions were to come, theymight be more orderly and well-behaved. If these were to be the last,perhaps this would be a change for the better. Every one accordinglyexerted himself to the utmo
st to supply the demand for transports.
It was a curious medley of vessels that assembled in the Great Harbour inthe late autumn for the embarkation of the army. Old ships of war that hadlain high and dry from before the memory of man were hastily pitched overand launched. Merchant vessels of every kind were there, from the hugehulks that were accustomed to carry heavy cargoes of metal from Cornwall,to the light barks that carried on the trade in wine, olive oil, fruit,and such light goods between Armorica and Britain; even the fishingvessels from the villages along the coast were pressed into the service,and laden to the full, sometimes even to a dangerous depth, with militarymaterial and all the miscellaneous property with which an army of twentythousand men would be likely to be encumbered. The greater part of thisforce had been collected at the Camp of the Great Harbour, which indeedwas overflowing, and more than overflowing, with troops. But the garrisonsthat were situated to the eastward, as at Regnum(30) and Anderida,(31)were to join the fleet as it sailed, while those from the inland and coaststations of South and Eastern Britain were to make the best of their wayto the Portus Lemanus. This was to be the rendezvous for the whole force,and the point for commencing the passage. The longer voyage, direct fromthe Great Harbour to the mouth of the Sequana (the Seine) or theprojecting peninsula, now known as Manche, was dreaded, for the Channelhad even a worse reputation in those days than it has now. It wasarranged, accordingly, that the flotilla should sail along the coast asfar as the Portus Lemanus, and cross from thence to Bononia.(32) The firsthalf of November had passed before the preparations for departure werecompleted, and there were some who advised Constantine to delay hispassage till the following spring. That he knew to be impossible; it wasbetter to run any risk of storm or shipwreck than to face the winter withan ill-paid and discontented army.
At early dawn, on the fifteenth of the month, the embarkation began, themunitions of war, stores, and other baggage having been already, as far aswas possible, put on board of the heavier transports. The water-gate ofthe camp was thrown open, and at this Constantine, his sons, and hisprincipal officers took their place. The priest who served the churchwithin the camp offered a few prayers, and solemnly blessed the eagle ofthe Second Legion, which constituted, as has been said, the main part ofthe forces in the camp. When this ceremony was concluded, Constantineaddressed the army.
"By this gate in the days of our ancestors Vespasian led forth the SecondLegion, then, as now, one of the chief ornaments and supports of theEmpire, to execute the judgment of God on the rebellious nation of theJews, and to receive before long as his reward the Empire of Rome. By thisgate I lead you forth, worthy successors as you are of those who conqueredwith him, to a service not less honourable, and certain to receive no lessdistinguished a reward. Let my name, which recommended me to your favour,and this place, already famous as the starting-point of victorious armies,be accepted as omens of success. Comrades, follow me on a march which hasfor its end nothing less than the Capitol of Rome."
He then took his seat in a boat manned with a picked crew, and, amidstshouts of applause from the assembled soldiers and spectators, was rowedto the ship, one of the few war galleys of recent construction that wereto be found in the fleet. Then began the embarkation of the troops.
It was a singular scene. The news had spread with the greatest rapiditythrough the whole countryside, and the native population had crowded towitness the departure. Every point from which the sight could be seen wasoccupied by spectators. Even the slopes of Portsdown were thickly dottedby them. Nearer the camp the emotion and excitement were intense. Aregiment that marches out of a town in which it has been in garrison for ayear or two leaves many sad hearts behind it; even so brief a space islong enough for the binding of many ties. But the legions had been almostpermanent residents in Britain, and they were bound to its people by bondsmany and close. And this people was not, it must be remembered, theself-restrained English race, so chary of sighs and groans, and so muchashamed of tears, but a race of excitable Celts, always ready to expressall, and even more, than they felt. Wives, children, kinsfolk, friendswere now to be left behind, and probably left for ever--for who couldbelieve that the legions, whose departure had been threatened so long,could ever come back?
The Departure of the Legions.]
The embarkation went on. Some of the lighters could be brought close tothe shore, and were boarded by gangways. To others of heavier burden themen had to be carried in boats. A strong guard had been posted to keep theplace of embarkation clear. But the guard was powerless, or perhapsunwilling--for who could deal harshly with women and children sosituated?--to check the rush of the excited crowd. Some of the women threwthemselves on their departing husbands and lovers, clasped them roundtheir necks, or hung to their knees. Others sat on the shore rockingthemselves to and fro, or frozen by the extremity of their grief intostillness; some uttered shrill cries; others were sunk in a speechlessdespair. Nor were there wanting scenes of a less harrowing kind. Not a fewof the departing soldiers were breaking other obligations besides those ofthe heart. Creditors were to be seen clinging to debtors whom they sawvanishing out of their sight. The Jew trader from the village outside thecamp seemed to be in despair. Probably he had secured himself fairly wellagainst the consequences of an event which he must have been shrewd enoughto foresee; but to judge from the bitterness and frequency of his appealshe was hopelessly ruined. He swore by the patriarchs and prophets that hehad always carried on his business at a loss, and that if his debts werenot now settled in full he should be reduced to beggary. Thetavern-keepers were also busy, running to and fro, getting, or trying toget, payment of scores from customers whom they had trusted. There wereothers who had something to sell, some provisions for the voyage, a cloak,or a mantle, and offered it as a bargain--not, however, without a margin ofprofit--to dear friends with whom they were not likely to have dealingsagain. Other noisy claimants for attention were young Britons who wantedto enlist. For days past these had been flocking into the camp, and nowthat their last chance was about to disappear, they became importunate inthe extreme. The numbers of the legions could have been almost doubledfrom these candidates for service.
Slowly, as ship after ship received its complement of men, the turmoil onthe shore lessened, and about sunset the embarkation was completed. Theweather was beautifully calm, a light wind blowing from the land duringthe day, and even this falling as the light declined. When the moonrose--the time of the full had been chosen for the embarkation--the sea wasalmost calm. Then, amidst a great cry of "Farewell," from the shore, thefleet slowly moved down the harbour. All night, making the most of thefavourable weather, it pursued its way along the coast, being joined as itwent by other detachments. At the Portus Lemanus it found the fleet whichcarried the garrisons of the eastern stations ready to start, and thewhole made its way without hindrance across the Channel to Bononia, havingas prosperous a voyage as had the legions which more than four hundred andfifty years before Caesar had brought to the island.