After a while something of the habitual Roman courage reasserted itself. Every one could see for himself that the army was hemmed in. The mountains were on one side, the lake on the other; at either end of the road the passage was barred by serried lines of the enemy. If there was to be any deliverance it must come from their own strength and valour. Panic was succeeded by the courage of despair. Nothing could restore to the army its lost order, but it was at least determined to sell its existence dearly. And here, at least, Flaminius did his duty to the utmost. Incompetent as he was as a general, he was the bravest of the brave. "It is not by prayers to heaven," he cried, "that you will escape. Strength and courage, and these alone, will save you. The less your fear, the smaller the danger." The men answered to their leader's call. So fierce was the fight that the combatants were wholly unconscious of an earthquake which, at the very hour when the battle raged most fiercely, laid more than one city in ruins, changed the courses of river, and brought down huge masses of earth and rock from the mountains to the plains. It was round the person of the Consul that the battle raged most fiercely. He was a conspicuous figure in the scarlet cloak which marked the officer in chief command, and in arms of unusual splendour. And as long as he was in the front the legions held their own. For three hours the issue seemed to be in suspense. But a general who exposes himself as recklessly as the Consul felt constrained to do can hardly hope to escape. And there were some in the hostile ranks who bore him a special grudge. Five years before Flaminius had carried on a campaign against the Insubrian Gauls,[20] and had treated them, it would seem, with exceptional severity. An Insubrian trooper now recognised him. "This is the man," he cried to his comrades, "who slaughtered our countrymen, and laid waste our fields. I will offer him a sacrifice to the spirits of the dead." So saying, he set spurs to his horse and charged through the Roman line. The Consul's armour-bearer threw himself in the way, and was struck down. The Consul himself fell mortally wounded. A fierce struggle took place over his body, but the Roman veterans succeeded in rescuing it. But to an army that is fighting at a disadvantage the fall of its leader is often a disabling blow. So it was at Lake Trasumennus. The Roman army no longer held its ground. Frantic attempts were made to fly. Some tried to climb the mountain-side; others endeavoured to escape by wading out into the lake. Very few succeeded in either attempt. In the lake, especially, many perished. Those who attempted to swim were drowned sooner or later; those who made their way back to the shore were cut down by the enemy's horsemen, who rode out in the shallow and were ready to receive them. Fifteen thousand in all were slain; ten thousand contrived to escape. One body of six thousand,