past Lake Trasumennus. Here it was narrow, the mountains approaching near to the water-side; a little further on there was an open space of some extent; after this again the mountains closed in again and made a narrow defile. These features are not visible to any one who approaches the place from the north; and the Consul seems to have taken no pains to acquaint himself with the road which he was following. Hannibal barred the southern outlet with a strong force of his picked troops; his cavalry he put in ambush at the point of entrance; the high ground that bordered the road on the landward side he occupied with his slingers and light-armed troops. Flaminius reached the lake at sunset on the day of his breaking up his camp at Arretium, and bivouacked there for the night. Next day, at early dawn, he moved forward, again without reconnoitring, and reached the open space described before. A heavy morning mist hung over the country, and the Romans saw nothing but the road on which they were marching. Their first sight of the enemy was when they reached the defile where Hannibal himself was in position. Almost at the same moment the mist rolled away, and they saw that the mountain-sides on either hand were alive with enemies, and that their retreat was barred by the Carthaginian cavalry. At the same moment they found themselves attacked, before, says the historian, they could form their lines, or even draw their swords. The result of this surprise was something like a panic. The march had been conducted with so much carelessness and disorder that the legions and even the maniples or companies were broken up. It was by the merest chance that a soldier found himself in his proper place, or ranged with his proper comrades. Some, it would seem, were actually without arms, for these were being carried in waggons, and the waggons could not be found when they were wanted. The mist, it must be remembered, though it had cleared away from the higher ground, still lay thick upon the lower ground, which was indeed very little raised above the level of the lake. So it came to pass that, as Livy puts it, the ear was of more service than the eye. The men rushed where they heard the groans of the wounded, the clash of sword upon armour, the cry of victory or defeat. The coward, flying in terror, found himself entangled in the mass of combatants; the brave man, eager to take his part in the struggle, might be irresistibly carried off by a crowd of fugitives.