The Count of the Saxon Shore; or The Villa in Vectis.: A Tale of the Departure of the Romans from BritainChurch, Alfred John
History
The Count of the Saxon Shore; or The Villa in Vectis.: A Tale of the Departure of the Romans from Britain
Church, Alfred John
Great Britain -- History -- Roman period, 55 B.C.-449 A.D. -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Romans -- Great Britain -- Fiction
the dealers to remain within the fortifications at night, but the shops
were tenanted by day, and did a thriving business, not only with the
soldiers, but with the Britons of the neighbourhood, who found the camp a
convenient resort, where they could market to advantage, besides gossiping
to their hearts’ content. The relations between the soldiers and their
native neighbours were indeed friendly in the extreme. The legion had had
its headquarters in the camp of the Great Harbour for many generations,
though it had occasionally gone on foreign service. Lately, too, the
policy which had recruited the British legion with soldiers from the
Continent, had been relaxed, partly from carelessness, partly because it
was necessary to fill up the ranks as could best be done, and there was
but little choice of men. Thus service became very much an inheritance.
The soldiers married British women, and their children, growing up, became
soldiers in turn. Many recruits still came from Gaul, Spain, and the mouth
of the Rhine, and elsewhere, but quite as many of the troops were by this
time, in part or in whole, British.
Another change which the three centuries and a half since Vespasian’s time
had brought about was in religion. The temple of Mars, which had stood
near the headquarters, and where the legate had been accustomed to take
the auspices,(6) was now a Christian Church, duly served by a priest of
British birth.
About a couple of hours later in the day a shout of “The Emperor! the
Emperor!” was raised in the camp, and the soldiers, flocking out from the
mess-tents in which most of them were sitting, lined in a dense throng the
avenue which led from the chief gate to headquarters.
Gratianus, who was followed by a few officers of superior rank and a small
escort of cavalry, rode slowly between the lines of soldiers. His
reception was not as hearty as he had expected to find. He had, as the
soldiers had hinted, made vast exertions to raise a sum of money in
Londinium—then, as now, the wealthiest municipality in the island. Himself
a native of the place, and connected with some of its richest citizens, he
had probably got together more than any one else would have done in like
circumstances. But all his persuasions and promises, even his offer of
twenty per cent. interest, had not been able to extract from the Londinium
burghers the full sum that was required; and the soldiers, who the day
before would have loudly proclaimed that they would be thankful for the
smallest instalment, were now almost furious because they had not been
paid in full. A few shouts of “Hail, Cæsar! Hail, Gratianus! Hail,
Britannicus!” greeted him on the road to his quarters; but these came from
the front lines only, and chiefly from the centurions and
deputy-centurions, while the great body of the soldiers maintained an
ominous silence, sometimes broken by a sullen murmur.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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