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
of Venta who had ever seen service in the field; and the citizen soldiers
were fairly panic-stricken when they saw themselves actually facing a
furious, yelling crowd of barbarians, cruel and savage creatures in
reality, and commonly reported to be even worse than they were. Without
even striking a blow they turned and fled. The Count, whom the alarm had
just reached, was met, and, for a time, carried away by the tide of
fugitives. Still he was able to rally a few men to his side for a last
effort. Some of his own followers were with him, and the rest could be
fetched in a few moments. The gallant old centurion, in spite of his
seventy years, was prompt with the offer of his sword; and, as always
happens, the infection of courage spread not less rapidly than the
infection of cowardice. Altogether a compact body of about a hundred men
were collected. Well armed and well disciplined they turned a steadfast
face to the enemy, and were able to make their retreat to a little fort
which stood on a hill to the south-east of the town. Carna, the priest of
Venta and his family, and a few other non-combatants were with them. More,
in the terrible confusion of the scene, it was impossible to rescue. All
through the trying time Cedric distinguished himself by his coolness and
courage. When once he had seen Carna safely bestowed in the centre of the
party, and had also seen that the person of the Pictish chief was secured
(having the presence of mind to foresee that he would be a valuable
hostage), he took up a position in the extreme rear of the retreat, and
performed prodigies of valour in keeping the pursuers at bay.
The occupation of the fort could, of course, do nothing more than give
them a breathing space. Though it had been for some time unoccupied, its
defences were tolerably perfect, and it might have been held against a
barbarian enemy as long as provisions held out. Unfortunately this was the
weak part of their position. Of provisions they had very little. Luckily
the place had latterly been used as a warehouse, and contained some sacks
of flour. A few sheep were feeding in a meadow hard by, and were hastily
driven within the defences. Happily there was a well within the walls.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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