Soldiers and drivers came to blows; the order of march was broken against the wagons, carriages, and chests. The lust of booty was awakened, and many of the soldiers began to plunder the wagons, before they should fall into the hands of the enemy.
On all sides arose altercations, curses, laments, and throats, accompanied by the crash of broken wagons, and the bleating and bellowing of the terrified herds.
"Sacrifice the baggage! Fire the wagons! Gallop through the herds!" cried Belisarius, who, sword in hand, now broke a path through the turmoil with the remnant of his body-guard.
But it was all in vain.
Ever thicker, ever more entangled became the coil; it seemed impossible to unravel it.
Despair at length tore it asunder.
The cry, "The barbarians are upon us!" sounded from the rear.
And it was no idle rumour.
Hildebad, with his foot-soldiers, had descended to the plain, and his foremost ranks now attacked the defenceless mass. There ensued a fearful press to the front; cries of terror--of rage from the body-guard, who, mindful of their former valour, attempted to fight, but could not--of anguish from those trampled and crushed; and suddenly the greater part of the wagons, with their teams and the thousands who were crowded upon them or jammed between them, fell with a thundering crash into the ditches on the right and left of the high-road.
So at last the way was open--and impetuously, all discipline at an end, the stream of fugitives rushed on to the camp.