The Romans wandered several days in the country east of Baghdad; the Persian deserter, who had artfully led them into the snare, escaped from their resentment; and his followers, as soon as they were put to the torture, confessed the secret of the conspiracy. The visionary conquests of Hyrcania and India, which had so long amused, now tormented the mind of Julian. Conscious that his own imprudence was the cause of the public distress, he anxiously balanced the hopes of safety or success, without obtaining a satisfactory answer either from gods or men. At length, as the only practicable measure, he embraced the resolution of directing his steps towards the banks of the Tigris, with the design of saving the army by a hasty march to the confines of Gordyene, a fertile and friendly province, which acknowledged the sovereignty of Rome. The desponding troops obeyed the signal of retreat, only seventy days after they had passed the Chaboras with the sanguine expectation of subverting the throne of Persia.
As long as the Romans seemed to advance into the country, their march was observed and insulted from a distance by several bodies of Persian cavalry; who, showing themselves sometimes in loose, and sometimes in closer order, faintly skirmished with the advanced guards. These detachments were however supported by a much greater force; and the heads of the columns were no sooner pointed towards the Tigris, than a cloud of dust arose on the plain. The Romans, who now aspired only to the permission of a safe and speedy retreat, endeavoured to persuade themselves that this formidable appearance was occasioned by a troop of wild asses, or perhaps by the approach of some friendly Arabs. They halted, pitched their tents, fortified their camp, passed the whole night in continual alarms; and discovered at the dawn of day that they were surrounded by an army of Persians. This army, which might be considered only as the van of the barbarians, was soon followed by the main body of cuirassiers, archers, and elephants, commanded by Nermanes, a general of rank and reputation. He was accompanied by two of the king’s sons, and many of the principal satraps; and fame and expectation exaggerated the strength of the remaining powers, which slowly advanced under the conduct of Sapor himself. As the Romans continued their march, their long array, which was forced to bend, or divide, according to the varieties of the ground, afforded frequent and favourable opportunities to their vigilant enemies. The Persians repeatedly charged with fury, they were repeatedly repulsed with firmness; and the action at Maronga, which almost deserved the name of a battle, was marked by a considerable loss of satraps and elephants, perhaps of equal value in the eyes of their monarch.
JULIAN’S DEATH
These splendid advantages were not obtained without considerable slaughter on the Roman side; several officers of distinction were either killed or wounded; the emperor himself, who, on all occasions of danger, inspired and guided the valour of his troops, was obliged to expose his person and exert his abilities. The weight of offensive and defensive arms, which still constituted the strength and safety of the Romans, disabled them from making any long or effectual pursuit; and as the horsemen of the East were trained to dart their javelins and shoot their arrows at full speed, and in every possible direction, the cavalry of Persia was never more formidable than in the moment of a rapid and disorderly flight. But the most certain and irreparable loss of the Romans was that of time. The hardy veterans, accustomed to the cold climate of Gaul and Germany, fainted under the sultry heat of an Assyrian summer; their vigour was exhausted by the incessant repetition of march and combat; and the progress of the army was suspended by the precautions of a slow and dangerous retreat, in the presence of an active enemy. Every day, every hour, as the supply diminished, the value and price of subsistence increased in the Roman camp. Julian, who always contented himself with such food as a hungry soldier would have disdained, distributed, for the use of the troops, the provisions of the imperial household, and whatever could be spared from the sumpter-horses of the tribunes and generals. But this feeble relief served only to aggravate the sense of the public distress; and the Romans began to entertain the most gloomy apprehensions that before they could reach the frontiers of the empire they should all perish, either by famine or by the sword of the barbarians.[b]
In the early hours of the 26th of June the army advanced and was immediately followed by the Persians, who marched on the wings, on the hilly ground at either side of the way, watching to seize a favourable opportunity for attack. This soon offered itself, for whilst Julian had ridden a little in advance, unarmed, to reconnoitre, he was suddenly informed that the army had been attacked in the rear. He went there immediately to render assistance, seizing a shield, but in his haste forgetting to put on the coat of mail which he had taken off on account of its weight and the oppressive heat. No sooner had he reached the rear than the news came that the army was also engaged with the enemy in the van. The emperor was promptly on the spot, and the Roman light infantry, encouraged by his splendid example, succeeded in repulsing the Persians.
The Romans immediately started in pursuit, the emperor himself giving the signal, and, transported with ardour and eager desire for combat, himself taking part in it. Unarmed as he was, and without any thought of himself, he was carried away in the throng of the fugitives. He no longer heard the warning cries of his companions, who had been parted from him in the general confusion; evil fate had already overtaken him, for the spear of a horseman, coming suddenly from an unknown quarter, grazed his arm and pierced his ribs, where it remained. He tried to extract it with his right hand, but it was useless; he only wounded his fingers with the sharp iron. He then fell from his horse, but was soon brought into camp.
Meanwhile the fighting continued; the Romans, amongst whom the news of the fall of the emperor had soon spread, advanced, full of rage and without thought of their own safety, on the Persians who were again closing their ranks. A protracted struggle ensued and the air was filled with the cries of the dying, the neighing of horses, and the whir of arrows. At last night put an end to the bloodshed. The loss on both sides was considerable.
Let us return to the emperor. He lay dying in his tent, surrounded by his faithful followers, who could not suppress their anguish. He tried to console them by long speeches, in which he alluded to the honourable death granted him by favour of the gods; death was made easy to him, since he had nothing to repent of in the actions of his life, for he had always considered the happiness and welfare of his subjects as the object of his government, and had had them in view in all his undertakings.
He would not express any desire as to his successor, lest he should pass over anyone worthy. Who does not recall the death of Alexander, his great model? All that he desired was the best possible ruler for the empire. After thus speaking in a tranquil tone, the emperor gave some directions concerning his private property; he also inquired for the chancellor Anatolius, whose absence he had noticed. When he heard from Sallust that he was dead, he lamented him bitterly, he who shortly before had considered his own death as a favour of the gods. He soon recovered himself and reproached those around him who had burst into tears, as he considered it unseemly to lament a prince who was so soon to become united to the gods. He then engaged in conversation with the philosophers, Maximus and Priscus, on the immortal destiny of the soul. This continual conversation was not favourable to his condition, for the wound suddenly began to bleed again, his breath became laboured, and after taking a drink of fresh water, he expired quietly about midnight.
Such was the end of the last emperor of the house of Constantine, on whom the pagans had set such great hopes, at the early age of barely thirty-two years, and after a reign of barely twenty months.[c]