The Romans, however, were not left long in doubt of the reception they were to get. Scotta and his friends soon returned without Edecon, and to the further amazement of Maximin repeated word for word the contents of the Imperial letter to Attila. “Such,” said they, “is your commission. If this be all depart at once.” Maximin protested in vain. Nothing remained but to prepare for departure. Vigilas who knew what Chrysaphius expected was particularly furious; better have lied than to return without achieving anything, said he. What to do? It was already night. They were in the midst of Barbary, between them and the Danube lay leagues of wild unfriendly country. Suddenly as their servants loaded the beasts for their miserable journey other messengers arrived from the Hun. They might remain in their camp till dawn. In that uneasy night, had Vigilas been less of a fool, he must have guessed that Edecon had betrayed him.
It was not the barbarous Vigilas, however, who found a way out of the difficulty, for at dawn the command to depart was repeated, but that Priscus who has left us so vivid an account of this miserable affair. He it was who, seeing the disgrace of his patron, sought out Scotta, the brother of Onegesius, the chief minister of Attila, in the Hunnish camp. With him went Vigilas as interpreter, and so cleverly did the Sophist work upon the ambition of Scotta, pointing out to him not only the advantages of peace between the Huns and the Romans, but also the personal advantage Scotta would gain thereby in honour and presents, and at last feigning to doubt Scotta’s ability to achieve even so small a matter as the reception of the embassy that he had his way. Scotta rode off to see Attila, Priscus returned to his patron, and soon after Scotta returned to escort them to the royal tent.
The reception must have been a strange spectacle. The tent of Attila was quite surrounded by a multitude of guards; within, upon a stool of wood, was seated the great Hun. Priscus, Vigilas and the servants who attended them bearing the presents remained upon the threshold. Maximin alone went forward and gave into Attila’s hands the letter of Theodosius saying: “The Emperor wishes Attila and all that are his health and length of days.” “May the Romans receive all they desire for me,” replied the instructed Barbarian. And turning angrily to Vigilas he said: “Shameless beast, why hast thou dared to come hither knowing as thou dost the terms of peace I made with thee and Anatolius. Did I not then tell thee that I would receive no more ambassadors till all the refugees had been surrendered!” Vigilas replied that they brought seventeen fugitives with them and that now there remained no more within the Empire. This only made Attila more furious: “I would crucify thee and give thee as food for the vultures but for the laws regarding envoys,” cried he. As for the refugees, he declared there were many still within the Empire, and bade his people read out their names, and this done he told Vigilas to depart with Eslas, one of his officers, to inform Theodosius that he must forthwith return all the fugitives who had entered the Empire from the time of Carpilio, son of Aetius, who had been his hostage. “I will never suffer,” said he, “that my slaves shall bear arms against me, useless though they be to aid those with whom they have found refuge.... What city or what fortress have they been able to defend when I have determined to take it?” When he had said these words he grew calmer; informed Maximin that the order of departure only concerned Vigilas, and prayed the ambassador to remain and await the reply to the letter of the Emperor. The audience closed with the presentation and acceptance of the Roman presents.
Vigilas must surely have guessed now what his dismissal meant. Perhaps, however, he was too conceited and too stupid to notice it. At any rate he did not enlighten his companions but professed himself stupefied by the change of Attila’s demeanour towards him. The whole affair was eagerly discussed in the Roman camp. Priscus suggested that Vigilas’ unfortunate indiscretion at Sardica had been reported to Attila and had enraged him. Maximin did not know what to think. While they were still debating Edecon appeared and took Vigilas apart. The Hun may well have thought he needed reassurance. He declared that he was still true to the plan of Chrysaphius. Moreover, seeing what a fool Vigilas was, he told him that his dismissal was a contrivance of his own to enable the interpreter to return to Constantinople and fetch the money promised, which could be introduced as necessary to the embassy for the purchase of goods. Vigilas, however, can scarcely have believed him, at any rate for long; a few hours later Attila sent word that none of the Romans were to be allowed to buy anything but the bare necessities of life from the Huns, neither horses, nor other beasts, nor slaves, nor to redeem captives. Vigilas departed with the order ringing in his ears, upon a mission he must have known to be hopeless.
Two days later Attila broke camp and set out for his capital, the Roman ambassadors following in his train under the direction of guides appointed by the Hun. They had not gone far on their way northward when they were directed to leave the train of Attila and to follow another route, because, they were told, the King was about to add one more to his innumerable wives, Escam, the daughter of a chief in a neighbouring village.
Very curious is Priscus’ description of the way followed by the patron and his embassy. They journeyed across the Hungarian plain, across horrible marshes and lakes which had to be traversed sometimes on rafts; they crossed three great rivers, the Drave, the Temes, and the Theiss in dug-outs, boats such as they had seen on the Danube hollowed out of the trunks of trees. They lived for the most part on millet which their guides brought or took from the wretched inhabitants, they drank mead and beer, and were utterly at the mercy of the weather, which was extremely bad. On one occasion, indeed, their camp was entirely destroyed by tempest, and had it not been for the hospitality of the widow of Bleda they would perhaps have perished.
For seven days they made their way into the heart of Hungary till they came to a village where their way joined the greater route by which Attila was coming. There they were forced to await the King, since they must follow and not precede him. It was in this place that they met another Roman embassy, that of the Emperor in the West, Valentinian III, who was quarrelling with Attila about the holy vessels of Sirmium. It seems that the Bishop of Sirmium in 441, seeing his city invested, had gathered his chalices and patens and plate, sacred vessels of his church, and had sent them secretly to a certain Constantius, a Gaul, at that time Attila’s minister. In case the city fell they were to be used as ransom, first of the Bishop, and in case of his death of any other captives. Constantius was, however, untrue to the trust placed in him by the Bishop, and sold or pawned the plate to a silversmith in Rome. Attila hearing of it when Constantius was beyond his reach claimed the booty as his own. It was upon this miserable business that Valentinian had sent an embassy to Attila from Ravenna.
It is certainly a shameful and an amazing spectacle we have here. In that little village of Barbary the ambassadors of the Emperors, East and West, of the Courts of Constantinople and Ravenna, of New Rome and of Old, wait in a marsh the passage of a savage that they may be allowed to follow in his train and humbly seek an audience. Surely Attila himself had arranged that meeting, and as he rode on to his capital, the two embassies following in his dust, he must have enjoyed the outrageous insult to civilisation, the triumph of brute force over law.
IV
THE IMPERIAL EMBASSY AT THE COURT OF ATTILA
The entry of Attila into his capital was witnessed by Priscus and has been recorded by him with much naive care, for it evidently excited his curiosity and interest. The Hun was met by a procession of maidens who passed in groups of seven under long veils of white linen, upheld by the matrons on either side of the way, singing as they passed Scythian songs. So they went on towards the palace past the house of the chief minister Onegesius, where the wife of the favourite, surrounded by her servants and slaves, awaited the King to present him with a cup filled with wine, which he graciously consented to receive at her hands. Four huge Huns lifted up a tray of silver loaded with viands that the King might eat also, which he did without alighting from his horse. Then he passed on to his own house. Maximin pitched his camp, it seems, between the house of Onegesius and the palace of the King.