CHAPTER X.
DANGERS AHEAD.
The winter that followed the departure of the legions was a busy time withthe Count. He was now almost the only representative of Roman power inSouthern Britain, and the villa on the island became a place ofconsiderable importance. A military force of some strength was gatheredthere. Constantine's enterprise was not universally popular, and many hadtaken any chance that offered itself of escaping from it. Some hadreached, or very nearly reached, the end of their time of service, andclaimed their discharge; others were known to be loyal to Rome, and wereallowed to retire. Not a few of those who found themselves without home oremployment, and did not happen to have friends or kinsfolk in Britain,rallied to the Count. The families, too, of some that had gone with thelegions were glad to claim such shelter and protection as theneighbourhood of the villa could give. Among these were the wife anddaughters of the Centurion Decius; the old mother had steadily refused toaccompany them, and, with an aged dependent of nearly the same age,continued to occupy the house near the deserted camp. It was an anxiousmatter with the Count what was to be done with these helpless people.While things were quiet they could live safely, if not very comfortably,in the neighbouring village; but if trouble were to come--and there wereseveral quarters from which it might come--they would have to be shelteredsomewhere in the villa. This never could be made into a really strongplace; but it might serve well enough for a time and against ordinaryattack. Some of the outbuildings and domestic offices were fortified aswell as the position admitted; such material of war as could be got wasaccumulated, and provisions also were stored. The most reliable resource,however, was in the ships of war. These were not, as was usual, drawn upon the beach for the winter, but were kept at anchor, ready for immediateuse.
Nor were these precautions unnecessary, for indeed, as we shall see,mischief of a very formidable kind was brewing, and indeed had beenbrewing ever since the departure of the legions, and even before thatevent. And it was mischief of a kind of which it may safely be affirmedthat neither the Count nor any Roman official, had any notion. Britain, toall appearance, had for many generations been thoroughly subdued. AnyRoman, if he had been told that there was any danger of rebellion amongthe Britons, would have laughed the suggestion to scorn. The legions,indeed, had often been mutinous and turbulent, and their generalsambitious and unscrupulous. The island indeed had gained so bad areputation for loyalty to the Empire that it had been called the mother oftyrants, by "tyrant" being meant "usurper." But whenever Rome had beendefied, she had been defied by her own troops. The Britons had enlisted inthe rebel armies, but they had never attempted to assert anything likeBritish independence. And yet the tradition of independence and libertyhad always been kept alive. The Celtic race is singularly tenacious ofsuch ideas, and also singularly skilful in concealing them from those whoare its masters for the time, and the Britons were Celts of the purestblood. Caradoc(33) and Boadicea, and other heroes and heroines of Britishindependence, were household words in many families which were yetthoroughly Roman in spirit and manners. Just as the Christianized Jews ofSpain, though to all appearances devout worshippers at church, still clungin secret to the rites of their own worship, so these loyal subjects ofthe Empire, as all the world believed them, cherished in their hearts thememory of the free Britain of the past and the hope of a free Britain inthe future. And the time was now at hand when their leaders thought thatthis hope might be fulfilled.
The Shanklin Chine of to-day is not a little different from the ShanklinChine of fifteen hundred years ago. It has, so to speak, been subdued andcivilized. Now it is a very pretty and pleasant wood; then it was analmost impenetrable thicket, a noted lair of elk and wild boar.Inaccessible, however, as it seemed to any one who surveyed it from above,there was for those who were in the secret a way of approaching itsrecesses. A little path, the beginning of which it was almost impossibleto discover without a guide, led up from the sea-end of the ravine to ahut which had been constructed about half way up the ascent. It consistedof a single chamber, about fourteen feet long, ten broad, and not morethan seven in height, and was constructed of roughly-hewn logs, theinterstices of which were filled with clay. The walls, however, were notvisible, for they were covered with hangings of a dark blue material,something like serge. The floor was strewn with rushes. In the centre ofthe apartment there was a hearth, having over it an aperture in the roof,not, however, opening directly into the outer air, by which the smokemight escape. On this hearth two or three logs were smouldering with adull heat which it would have been easy to fan into flame. There were twowindows unglazed, but closed with rough wooden lattices.
On three settles, roughly but strongly made of oak, which, with arudely-polished slab of wood that served for table, constituted all thefurniture of the hut, sat three confederates, and behind each stood astalwart attendant armed with a wicker shield which hung from his neck,and a long Gallic sword. The three chiefs were curiously different inappearance. One, as far, at least, as dress and manner were concerned,might have passed anywhere for a genuine Roman. He was taller, it is true,than the Romans commonly were; and his complexion, though dark rather thanfair, had a ruddier hue than was often seen under the more glowing skin ofItaly; still he might have walked down the Sacred Way or the Saburra(34)unnoticed save as an exceptionally handsome man, of that fair beauty whichthe southern nations especially admire. His hair was carefully curled andperfumed; his face as carefully shaven, and showing no trace of beard,moustache, or whisker. His toga of brilliant white, his long-sleeved tunicof some dark purple stuff, his elegant sandals, were all such as a dandyof the Palatine might have worn. The one thing which would have beensingular in a Roman street was the under-garment reaching to his knees,which he had assumed in consideration of the cold and wet of the insularclimate. His fingers were loaded with rings, one of them a sapphire ofunusual size, on which was engraved a likeness of the feeble features ofthe Emperor Honorius; on his left wrist might be seen a bracelet of gold.
If Martianus--for that was the name of the personage whom we have beendescribing--might have been easily mistaken for a Roman, the chief who satfacing him on the opposite side of the hearth was as manifestly a Briton.His hair fell over his shoulders in long natural curls which suggested nosuspicion of the barber's or the perfumer's art. His upper lip was coveredwith a moustache which drooped to his chin. His body was covered with asleeveless coat skilfully made of otters' skins. Both arms were bare, andwere plentifully painted with woad. On his legs he wore a garmentsomething like the "trews" or short trowsers which the Highland regimentssometimes wear in lieu of the kilt; his feet were enveloped in rude bootsof hide which were laced round his ankles. His ornaments were a massivechain of twisted gold, which he wore round his neck, and a single ring,rudely wrought of British gold, in which was set a British pearl ofimmense size but indifferent hue. He had a Roman name, as he could onoccasion wear Roman costume, and speak the Latin tongue. In the presentcompany he was known and addressed by his native name of Ambiorix.
British Conspirators.]
The third conspirator had the appearance of a middle-class provincial. Hewore the tunic that formed part of a Roman's ordinary dress, but not thetoga, which was replaced by a garment somewhat resembling a short cloak.But under the garb of a well-to-do townsman was concealed a veryremarkable career and character. Carausius--for this was the name by whichhe was generally known--was one of the last representatives of the ancientDruid priesthood. The glory and power of this remarkable caste, which hadonce held itself superior to the kings of Britain, were departed. Indeed,it was almost dangerous to hold the ancient faith, and practise theancient worship. Since the publication of the edict by which Constantinehad made Christianity the Imperial religion, the adherents of the oldreligion had become fewer and feebler. Some of the chiefs and nobles stillheld it in secret, or were, at least, ready to return to it, if it shouldever again become powerful; but its adherents were mostly
to be foundamong the poorer classes. Even these in the towns were, in name at least,mostly Christians; it was only the dwellers in the remoter and wilderparts of the country that remained faithful. But these scattered adherentsrevered the name of Carausius, who was believed to possess all the wisdomof his class, and was indeed credited with mysterious powers over natureand the gift of prophecy. From the Roman population all this was a secret,and the secret was remarkably well kept. Carausius was supposed to benothing more than an ordinary farmer. His Roman neighbours would have beenastonished in the last degree if they could have seen him presiding at oneof the Druid ceremonies, in his white robes curiously embroidered withmystic figures, his chaplet of golden oak-leaves, and the headless spear,which was to him what the crozier was to a Christian bishop.