CHAPTER XLIX.
The Adeling and his followers would probably soon have forced their waythrough this gate, one of whose wings had already caught fire and wasbeginning to glow and smoke more and more, while the other wassplitting wider and wider under the heavy blows of the axe, had not thebattle on the opposite side of the camp taken a turn which was also toprove decisive for the conflict around the Porta Decumana. Scarcely hadBissula fallen unconscious, when down every street in the camp that ledfrom the north toward this southern gate, riders, riderless horses,foot-soldiers, and slaves came rushing in a wild flight with franticcries.
"Fly," cried a warrior in scale armor, dashing past Herculanus andDavus. "The Barbarians are upon us!"
"The camp is taken!" shouted a Celt, hurrying out of a side street.
"They have climbed over the wall at the Praetorian Gate."
"No, the earth opened. Orcus spewed the Barbarians into the middle ofthe camp!"
"Fly!" shrieked a camp-follower's wife, "I saw Saturninus run down byhis own men! All is lost!" And in truth it seemed so.
Ausonius had been waked by Prosper, and while he was arming, Decius, agallant officer, appeared and in the Tribune's name invited him toundertake the defence of the Porta Principalis Dextra with a cohort ofthe Twenty second Legion, which had already been ordered there.
"I will accompany you," said he.
"What is the matter? The Barbarians? Are they attacking?"
"Don't you hear them?"
"Yes, of course I do! On which side?"
"On all sides!"
"I will hasten." With these words Ausonius, putting on his helmet, leftthe tent.
"What is the Tribune's decision?" he asked as they turned to the rightinto the nearest street. "To make a sally?"
"No! To remain in the camp. It will be defended to the last. There istoo great a superiority in the force outside." With these words the twoofficers reached the legionaries and, followed by them, soon gained theeastern gate of the camp. From here Ausonius sent Prosper to protectBissula, but also to watch that she did not escape.
Meanwhile Saturninus had convinced himself that, for the moment, nopressing danger threatened the northern or Praetorian Gate, and hurryingdown the steps inside the wall, he exchanged, his part of warrior forthat of Commander. Gathering his officers about him in the open spaceat the foot of the wall, about a hundred paces north of the pine-treeof the earth-goddess, he curtly issued swift commands. "Let all thehorsemen dismount and fight on the walls, except the first squadron ofmailed riders; but these are not to dismount--do you hear?--on pain ofdeath, under any pretext. All the riderless horses must be led to thePorta Decumana; for if a sally should be made, or"--he added in a lowertone so that only his officers could hear--"if it should be necessaryto leave the camp, we shall go to the south to aid Nannienus. If he benot attacked himself, he will instantly assail the Barbarians in therear at that gate."
"Help at the Porta Principalis Sinistra!" entreated a horseman dashingfrom the west.
Saturninus turned to speak to the messenger and, in doing so, turnedhis back to the pine-tree; but he had scarcely addressed a few words tothe man, when a centurion standing behind the General uttered a cry ofterror and seized him by the arm: "Look around you, Tribune! There! Bythe pine-tree! The earth is trembling; the abyss is opening; the altarstones have sprung apart!"
Just at that moment the Barbarians' war-cry: "Odin! Odin! Alemanni!"rang out in the midst of the camp, and Saturninus's face blanched as hesaw a gigantic figure in a white helmet, near the pine-tree, strikedown with his long spear a Celtic archer, who, shrieking, tried toescape. Three, six, eight, twelve Barbarians had risen from the earth.With a cry of savage fury the brave Roman rushed toward the giant. Buthe could not reach him, his own soldiers threw him down.
It was a body of the Celts, hot-blooded, brave in assault, but easilydisheartened after an unfavorable turn. They saw the foe in the midstof the camp; only a few had noticed whence they came or how small atfirst was their number. Seized with panic, many throwing away theirweapons, they fled in frantic terror.
"Treason! Treason! The enemy is in the camp!" With these shouts a wholetroop of fugitives had flung themselves between the Duke and the RomanGeneral. The latter instantly sprang to his feet again.
"Halt, you cowards," shouted the fearless Tribune, again trying tocheck with flashing sword, the mad rush of the fugitives. "Look aroundyou. There is only a handful of the enemy. And where will you fly?Outside of the camp? Among the greatly superior number of the foe? Onlythese walls can save you!"
"To the ships! To Nannienus! Across the lake! To Arbor!"
"Then die, you coward!" he cried fiercely, striking down the nearestshouter, a standard bearer of the Celts; and tearing from the fallingman the dragon standard, with its fluttering purple streamers, he swungit aloft, crying, "Roma! Roma!" and pressed forward.
For a moment he really succeeded in checking the fugitives. And now thebold little band of intruders was in the utmost peril; thenSaturninus's attention was suddenly diverted to the top of the wall.
Many, many of its defenders had turned at the noise behind them, seenGerman helmets in the midst of the camp, heard the cries of terror fromthe Celts, and noticed their General himself rush into the midst of thefugitives. They believed that the camp had been taken from the oppositedirection, and feared every moment that they would be attacked from therear. So they leaped from the top of the wall in large numbers or camerushing down the stairs. The besiegers outside, hitherto held in checkby a heavy shower of missies, suddenly saw whole ranks of the defendersvanish, whole stretches of the wall left empty and, with wild shouts,they climbed boldly and confidently up the ladders. When the Tribunelooked up, the assailants were already springing from the wall in densemasses, hewing down the few Romans who had gathered around him, whilethe fierce giant's terrible spear struck down one after another.
Saturninus cast one more glance at the top of the wall: countless bandsof Barbarians were appearing on it. Then, in a voice whose tones rangabove the din of battle, he shouted the order: "Leave the camp! Followthis standard! To the Porta Decumana! Close ranks! If you open them,you will be lost!"
These words had their effect. Often had these soldiers proved that thissolid closing of their ranks was the best, nay, the only means ofrepelling the assault of the Germans. The hope of reaching theircomrades on the ships revived their courage; retreating toward thesouth, fighting as they marched, they followed their trusted leader.
The pursuers from the north and east pressed hotly upon them; but theRomans moving southward received considerable reenforcements from theeast and the west, where the cross streets from both sides ran into theone extending from north to south--the Via Media. Meanwhile the troopsdefending the eastern and western gates had heard the war-cry of theAlemanni within the camp and the shouts of their own fugitives, andgiving up the hopeless resistance, they thronged, according to astanding rule in the camp, into the long central street which led tothe Porta Decumana, the gate assigned for the Roman line of retreat.
True, the troops from the western gate, where the assailants hadalready made considerable progress, poured down in great confusion; butDedus and Ausonius led the legionaries of the Twenty-second Cohort fromthe eastern gate in good order. Saturninus saw the two leaders from thedistance, but separated by the whole flood of marching men, they couldnot meet. So the columns, overtaken and pressed by the Barbarians onlyin the rear, gradually reached in better order the spot where the ViaPrincipalis, near the Decumanian Gate, intersected the long centralstreet leading to it. Here all the baggage, with many hundred carts andwagons, was piled together. Such a barricade, a valuable defence toGerman bands on the migrations, was the most dangerous obstacle andinterruption to the Roman order of marching and fighting; for no matterwhether the attempt to pass was made by going around or climbing overit, in either case the firmly closed ranks were broken into littlegroups, nay sometimes even separated into individual
warriors, who wereforced to press forward or climb over the wagons one behind another.
But the old Duke had not studied the plan of the camp in vain: he hadnoted accurately where the baggage, the carts and wagons were placed,and eagerly distributed all the bands of his men who poured toward him.They came from the three gates north, west, and east, which they hadlong since forced open, and they passed through the streets of the campin such a manner, as they pressed forward in pursuit, that they pushedfrom all sides down the long and the cross streets upon the fugitives,just at this exact point.