Read Felicitas: A Tale of the German Migrations: A.D. 476 Page 7
CHAPTER VI.
Was it actually so? Did the Germans stand indeed before the gates ofJuvavum?
The burghers racked their brains in tormenting uncertainty. They couldlearn nothing more at present of what had happened without the walls;the mouth that might have given farther information was silent forever.
The gates were kept carefully shut. When the news first reached theCapitol, Leo, the Tribune, had sprung from his couch, "To horse!" criedhe; "out, before the walls!" But with a cry of pain he had sunk back inthe arms of his slave; and he did not wish to entrust to another thedangerous enterprise of a nightly reconnaissance outside the gates,against an enemy certainly far superior in numbers. Severus, thecommander of the volunteers in the town, had only infantry at hisdisposal. With these alone, he could not and would not advance againstthe barbarians in the night. He contented himself with occupying thetowers and gates. The strengthened guard on the ramparts watched andlistened attentively in the mild night air; but there was nothingunusual to be observed, no light in the neighbourhood, no camp-fires inthe distance, which the advancing Germans, with wives and children,men-servants and maidens, with herds, carts and waggons, certainlycould not dispense with, and which it was not their custom toextinguish either from prudence or fear. No noise was heard, neitherthe clang of arms, nor the hoof-strokes of horses; only the regular,gentle murmuring of the stream, which hastened through the valley fromsouth to north, struck on the ears of the watchers. A burgher oncethought he heard a noise in the direction of the river, like the gentleneighing of a horse, and a splash of the waves, as if a heavy body hadfallen or sprung into the stream; but he convinced himself that he hadbeen deceived, for everything remained still as before.
The nightingales sang in the bushes around the villas; theirundisturbed song testified, as one rightly judged, that neitherwaggons, horses, nor warriors were in movement there.
So to gain information they turned again to the corpse of the horseman,and to his steed, yet trembling in every limb.
They saw that the horse had swum the stream, man and horse were runningwith water. Why had not the fugitive made use of the bridge below thetown? Because he did not know if it were occupied? or because he didnot wish to do so? Because he had striven to bring his news the mostdirect road? He had no other wound than that in the neck, caused by thedeadly arrow, from which the blood had flowed over his shoulder andshieldless left arm. It was undoubtedly a missile like those theGermans carried; the three-barbed point had entered very deeply, theshot was given at a close range; the long shaft of alder-wood waswinged with the feathers of the gray heron; the blade of his longcavalry sword was missing, the leather sheath hung empty at the rightside of his girth; the spear, which the closed right hand stillgrasped, was broken at the first iron clasp by which the point wasattached, by a powerful blow from a battle-axe, not from a sword; sothat the rider had lost in close combat, helmet, shield, sword, andspear, and in flight had received the arrow shot by his pursuer. Thedead man could be questioned no more.
But what had become of his comrades in arms?
Leo, the Tribune, had the day before sent out five of the Moorishcavalry to take possession of a hill, two hours' journey north-west ofthe town, which commanded a view of the country as far as the thickforest to the north. A half-fallen watch-tower stood there, which hadlast been repaired and occupied in the time of the Emperor ValentinianI., now a hundred years ago.