Clio

by Anatole France

The prefect of the body of cavalry stationed at Nemetacum of the Atrebates was Caius Volusenus Quadratus, the same who had formerly enticed King Commius into a trap and had said to the centurions of his escort: "When I hold out my hand as a sign of friendship you will strike from behind." Caius Volusenus Quadratus was held in high esteem in the army because of his obedience to the call of duty and his unflinching courage. He had received rich rewards and enjoyed the honours due to military virtue. Marcus Antonius appointed him to hunt down Commius.

Volusenus zealously carried out the mission confided to him. He planned ambuscades for Komm, and, keeping in constant touch with his robber bands, harassed them incessantly. Meanwhile the Atrebate, a cunning master of guerilla warfare, wore out the Roman cavalry by his swift movements and surprised isolated soldiers. As a matter of religious sentiment he slew his prisoners, trusting thus he propitiate the gods. But the gods hide their thoughts as well as their countenances. And it was after one of these pious performances that Komm fell into the greatest danger. Wandering in the land of the Morini, he had just slain by night on a stone in the forest two young and handsome prisoners, when on issuing from the wood he and all his men were surprised by the cavalry of Volusenus, which, being better armed and better skilled in manœuvring, surrounded him and killed many of his warriors and their horses. He succeeded, however, in making his escape, accompanied by the bravest and the cleverest of the Atrebates. They fled; they galloped at full speed over the plain, towards the beach where the misty Ocean rolls its pebbles over the sand. And, looking round, they saw the Roman helmets gleaming far behind them.

Komm had a fair hope of escaping. His horses were swifter and less heavily laden than the enemy's. He reckoned on reaching in time the boats awaiting him in a neighbouring cove, and with his faithful followers making for the land of the Britons.

Thus thought the chief, and the Atrebates rode in silence. Now a drop in the ground on a clump of dwarf-trees would hide the horsemen of Volusenus. Then on the immense grey plain the two companies would again come in sight of one another, but separated by an increasingly wide interval. The pale bronze helmets were outdistanced and Komm could distinguish naught to the rear save a cloud of dust moving on the horizon. Already the Gauls were breathing with delight the salt sea air. But as they drew nigh the shore the dusty incline caused the pace of the Gallic horses to slacken, and Volusenus began to gain on them.

Faint, almost imperceptible, the sound of Roman voices was caught by the keen ears of the barbarians, when, beyond the wind-bent larches, they first descried from the summit of a dune the masts of ships that lay gathered in the bend of the lonely shore. They uttered one long cry of joy. And Komm congratulated himself on his prudence and good luck. But, having begun their descent to the beach, they paused half-way down, seized with fear and horror, as they perceived the fine boats of the Veneti, broad keeled, lofty of stem and stern, now high and dry on the sand, there to remain for many a long hour, while far away in the distance gleamed the waves of the low tide. At this sight they sat inertly, stricken dumb, stooping over their steaming horses, which with muscles relaxed bowed their heads to the land breeze which blinded them as it blew their long manes into their eyes.

In the confusion and the silence resounded the voice of the chief crying:

"To the ships, horsemen! The wind is good! To the ships!"

They obeyed without understanding. And, pushing on to the ships, Komm bade them unfurl the sails. They were the skins of beasts dyed bright colours. No sooner were they unfurled than the rising wind filled the sails.

The Gauls wondered what could be the object of this manœuvre and whether the chief hoped to see the stout oaken keels ploughing through the sand of the beach as if it were the water of the Ocean. Some thought there might yet be time for flight, others of meeting death while slaying the Romans.

Meanwhile Volusenus, at the head of his horsemen men, was climbing the hill which borders on the pebbled, sandy shore. Rising from the bottom of the cove he saw the masts of the ships of the Veneti. Perceiving the sails unfurled and filled with a favourable wind, he bade his troops halt, called down obscene curses on the head of Commius, groaned over his horses, which had perished in vain, and, turning bridle, commanded his men to return to camp.