The Scarlet Banner
Page 43
CHAPTER XVIII
More news! Perhaps another war and conquest close at hand.
Am I really, O Cethegus, to be permitted speedily to seek you in yourItaly and help to free Rome by the aid of Huns and Herulians? Yourtyrants, the Ostrogoths, have made the bridge for us into this country;it was their Sicily. Justinian's gratitude is swift-winged. By theEmperor's command--Belisarius received it sealed, directly after ourdeparture from Constantinople, with the direction not to open thepapyrus until after the destruction of the Vandal kingdom--our Generalhas already demanded from the court of Ravenna the cession of aconsiderable portion of Sicily,--Lilybaeum, the important promontory andcastle, and all that the Vandals had ever possessed in that island. Forthe Vandal kingdom had now lapsed to Constantinople, so everything thathad ever belonged to that domain also fell to it. A man is not Emperorof the Pandects for nothing.
True, it seems to me somewhat brutal to set their limitless stupiditybefore the eyes of the deluded people quite so speedily. Though ofcourse it is the acme of statecraft to defeat the first with the helpof the second, and then, in token of gratitude, overthrow the second.Yet it is long since it was done so openly. Belisarius is obliged tothreaten war at once, not only upon Sicily, but all Italy, Ravenna, andRome. The letter to the Regent Amalaswintha concludes,--I had tocompose it for Belisarius in his tent, according to the Emperor'ssecret order directly after the battle of Trikameron: "If you refuse,you must know that you will not incur merely the _danger_ of war, butwar itself, in which we shall take from you not only Lilybaeum, buteverything you possess contrary to justice; that is, all!" To-daycame the news that there had been a revolution in Ravenna. Very wickedmen, who had already wished to support the Vandals against us, do notlove Justinian (but also unfortunately do not fear him), barbaricnames,--you will be more familiar with them than I, O Cethegus!Hildebrand, Vitigis, Teja, have seized the helm there and flatly refuseour demand. It seems to me that there is the blast of the tuba in theair.
But first of all we must subdue this Vandal King without a kingdom upabove there. The siege is lasting too long for the patience ofBelisarius. Hitherto all proposals for surrender have been refused,even those on the most absurdly favorable conditions, made becauseBelisarius desires to bring the war here swiftly to an end, as it seemsto me that he may be able speedily to celebrate a triumph inConstantinople such as has not been witnessed there for centuries, andthen continue in Italy what he had begun here.
And since this singular King, who sometimes seems to be soft wax,sometimes the hardest granite, is not to be influenced by fair words,we will address him to-morrow with spears.
Fara hopes that hunger has so enfeebled the Vandals and Moors that theycannot withstand a violent assault. The truth is: Fara, a German,--anda thoroughly admirable one,--can endure everything exceptlong-continued thirst and inactivity. And we have very little wineleft. Poor wine too! There is nothing to do except by turns to sleepand mount guard before the mouse-hole called Pappua. He is tired of it.He wants to take it by force. The Herulians will fight like madmen;that is their way. But I look at the narrow ascent in those yellowcliffs, and have my doubts of success. I think, unless Saint Cyprianand Tyche work in our behalf to-morrow, we shall get, not Gelimer andthe Vandals, but plenty of hard knocks.
We have had them,--the hard knocks! And they were our just due. TheVandals and Moors up yonder vied with each other in trying which couldserve us worst, and we paid the penalty. Fara, as leader and warrior,managed matters as well as it is possible to do in dealing with theimpossible. He divided us into three bodies: first, the Armenians, thenthe Thracians, lastly, the Herulians. The Huns--whose horses can domuch, but cannot climb like goats--remained below before our camp. Inbands of two hundred strong we rushed in a long line of two men abreastup the only accessible path. I will make the story short. The Moorsrolled rocks, the Vandals hurled spears, at us. Twenty Armenians fellwithout having even seen the crest of a foeman's helmet; the othersdrew back. The Thracians, despising death, took their places. Theyadvanced probably a hundred feet higher; by that time they had lostthirty-five of their number, had not seen an enemy, and also turnedback. "Cowardice," cried Fara. "It is impossible," replied Arzen, theseverely wounded leader of the Armenians,--a Vandal spear with thehouse-mark of the Asdings, a flying arrow, had pierced his thigh.
"I don't believe it," shouted Fara, "follow me, my Herulians."
They followed him. So did I; but very near the last of the line. For,as the legal councillor of Belisarius, I do not consider myself underobligation to perform any deeds of special heroism. Only when hehimself fights do I often foolishly imagine that my place is by hisside.
I have never seen such a storm. Fragments of boulders and lanceshurled by invisible hands crushed and spitted the men. But those whowere left climbed, leaped, crept higher and higher. The top of themountain--which neither of the two former scaling parties hadapproached--was gained. The hiding-places of many of the Moorsconcealed under the cliffs of the central portion were discovered, andnumbers of these lean brown fellows paid for their loyal hospitality tothe fugitives with their lives; I saw Fara himself kill three of them.He was just ranging his breathless band, and on the point of giving theorder to rush up to the narrow gateway in the rocks that yawns in themountain summit, when from this gateway burst the Vandals, the King inadvance; the crown on his helmet betrayed him. I saw him very close athand, and never shall I forget that face. He looked like a rapturousmonk, and yet also like the hero Zazo, whom I saw fall beforeBelisarius. Behind him was a youth who strongly resembled him. Thescarlet banner, I believe, was borne by a woman. Yet I am probablymistaken; for the whole charge fell upon us with the speed and might ofa thunderbolt. The first rank of the Herulians was scattered ascompletely as if it had never stood there.
"Where is the King?" cried Fara, springing forward.
"Here," rang the answer.
The next instant five of his Herulians were supporting their sorelywounded leader. This I saw, then I fell backward. The young Vandalbehind the King had sent his spear whizzing against my firm coat ofmail; I staggered, fell, and slid like an arrow down the smooth sandyincline, much faster and more easily than I had climbed it. When I cameto myself and rose again, Fara's faithful followers were bearing himpast me on two shields. The leader of the Armenians was leaning on hisspear.
"Do you believe it now, Fara?" he asked. "Yes," replied the German,pressing his bleeding head. "I believe it now. My beautiful helmet," hewent on, laughing. "But better to have the helmet cleft than the skullunder it, too." When he reached the bottom of the mountain he laughedno longer; one hundred and twenty of his two hundred Herulians lay deadamong the rocks. I think this will be the only storming of MountPappua.
* * * * *
Fara's wound is healing. But he complains a great deal of headache.
* * * * *
They must be miserably starving to death on that accursed mountain.Deserters often come down now, but only Moors. Not a single Vandalduring the whole campaign has voluntarily joined us, in spite of myfine invitation to treason and revolt! Of the much-lauded Germanvirtues fidelity seems to be almost the only one which has remained tothese degenerates.
Fara gave orders that no more should be received.
"The more mouths and stomachs Gelimer has, the smaller his stock offood will be," he said.
But now, as they will no longer be accepted as comrades in arms, theMoors sell themselves for slaves for a bit of bread. Fara alsoprohibited this sorrowful trading. He said to his men:
"Let them starve up there; you will get them all as captives of war somuch the sooner."
Yet it does the Vandals (it is said that there are not more than fortyof them) all honor that they still hold out while the Moors succumb. Itis the strongest contrast conceivable; for everything we heard inConstantinople concerning the luxury and effeminacy of the Vandals wassurpassed by what we saw in their palac
es, villas, and houses, and bywhat the Carthaginians have told us. Two or three baths daily, theirtables supplied with the dainties of all lands and seas, all theirdishes of gold, nothing but Median garments, spectacles, games in theCircus, the chase,--but with the least possible exertion,--dancers,mimes, musicians, outdoor pleasures in beautifully kept groves of thefinest fruit-trees, daily revels, daily drinking bouts, and the mostunbridled enjoyment of every description. As the Vandals led the mostluxurious, the Moors led the most simple lives of all peoples. Winterand summer, they are half clad in a short gray garment, and live in thesame low felt hut or leather tents, where one can scarcely breathe;neither the snow of the high mountains nor the scorching heat of thedesert affects them; they sleep on the bare ground, only the richestspread a camel-skin under them; they have neither bread, wine, nor anyof the better foods. Like the animals, they chew unground, evenunroasted barley, spelt, and corn.
Yet now the Vandals endure starvation without yielding, while the Moorssuccumb.
It is incomprehensible! Sons of the same nation from whom, in two shortbattles, we wrested Africa. To our wondering question how this can be,all the deserters make one reply: "The holy King." He constrains themby his eyes, his voice, by magic. But Fara says his magic cannot holdout long against hunger and thirst. And since, as these strong Moors,emaciated to skeletons, say that the King and his followers do notutter a word of complaint while enduring these sufferings, Farathought, from genuine kindness of heart, that he would try to end thismisery. He dictated to me the following epistle: "Forgive me, O King ofthe Vandals, if this letter seems to you somewhat foolish. My head wasalways more fit to bear sword-strokes than to compose sentences. Andsince you and my head met a short time ago, thinking has been stillmore difficult than usual. I write, or rather I have these wordswritten, plainly, according to the Barbarian fashion. Dear Gelimer, whydo you plunge yourself and all your followers into the deepest abyss ofmisery? Merely to avoid serving the Emperor? For this word, 'liberty,'is probably your delusion. Do you not see that, for the sake of thisliberty, you are becoming under obligations of gratitude and service tomiserable Moors, that you are dependent upon these savages? Is it notbetter to serve the great Emperor at Constantinople, than to rule overa little band of starving people on Pappua? Is it disgraceful to servethe same lord as Belisarius? Cast aside this folly, admirable Gelimer!Think, I myself am a German, a member of a noble Herulian family. Myancestors wore the badge of royalty of our people in the old home onthe shore of the dashing sea, near the islands of the Danes--and yet Iserve the Emperor, and am proud of it. My sword and the swift daring ofmy Herulians decided the victory on the day of Belisarius's greatestbattle. I am a general, and have remained a hero, even in the Emperor'sservice. The same fate will await you. Belisarius will secure you onhis word of honor life, liberty, estates in Asia Minor, the rank of apatrician, and a leadership in the army directly under him. DearGelimer, noble King, I mean kindly by you. Defiance is beautiful, butfolly is--foolish. Make an end of it!"
* * * * *
The messenger has returned. He saw the King himself. He says the sightof him was almost enough to startle one to death. He looks like a ghostor the King of Shades; gloomy eyes burn from a spectral face. Yet whenthe unyielding hero read the well-meant consolation of his kind-heartedfellow-countryman, he wept. The very man who struck down theunconquerable Fara and endures superhuman privations wept like a boy ora woman. Here is the Vandal's answer:--
"I thank you for your counsel. I cannot follow it. You have given upyour people; therefore you are drifting on the sea of the world like ablade of straw. I was, I am King of the Vandals. I will not serve theunjust foe of my people. God, so I believe, commands me and the remnantof the Vandals to hold out even now. He can save me if He so wills. Ican write no more. The misery surrounding me benumbs my thoughts. GoodFara, send me a loaf of bread; a delicate boy, the son of a dead noble,is lying very ill, in the fever caused by starvation. He begs, hepleads, he shrieks for bread--it tears one's heart-strings! For a longtime not one of us has tasted bread.
"And a sponge dipped in water; my eyes, inflamed by watching andweeping, burn painfully.
"And a harp. I have composed a dirge upon our fate, which I would fainsing to the accompaniment of the harp."
Fara granted the three requests,--the harp could be obtained only bysending to the nearest city,--but he guards even more closely thanbefore the "Mountain of Misery," as our people call it.