With his wife, brother, and child he “graced the chariot wheels” of the Roman general. Through the majestic city he strode, noble in his simple dignity, and still unconquered. While his companions in fear begged for mercy, he, proudly erect, and his eye, which had never quailed before a Roman brand, boldly bright, recked not of death, deeming honour a greater prize than life itself. As the triumphal procession passed along the Sacred Way he saw the stately temples, the massive arches, the beautiful statues, and the luxurious dwellings of the great city, and asked, “Why should these Romans, with all their grandeur, covet my poor hut at home?” Brought before Claudius, he made a noble defence and a proud appeal for clemency. Claudius was moved. He bade his lictors strike off the Briton’s chains and set him free. His after-career is unknown. In his noblest hour he vanishes from the pages of history. [Illustration] [Illustration: =Caractacus in Rome.= (_From the drawing by G. F. Watts, R.A._)] [Illustration] A WARRIOR QUEEN. “_Me they seized and me they tortured, me they lashed and humiliated;_ _Me the sport of ribald veterans, mine of ruffian violators._” Now move we on. Roman arms triumph in the field, but there is no peace in the land while the Druids, amidst the shadowy groves of Mona (Anglesea), cease not to stir the Britons to “mutiny and rage.” Suetonius Paulinus determines to extirpate them root and branch. He marches to the shores of Menai Strait, and at nightfall his men essay to cross in flat-bottomed boats. As they near the other side an awe-inspiring scene meets their eyes. The Britons are drawn up in dense array. To and fro run black-robed women, brandishing torches, “fierce as the Furies,” their long hair streaming in the sea breeze. Behind them the assembled Druids are lifting their hands to high heaven and calling down terrible curses on the invaders. Huge fires crackle and blaze, as though impatient of their victims. The frantic women, the cursing priests, the flaming torches, the roaring flames paralyze the Romans. They shudder at the sight, and hesitate to land. But discipline prevails; they answer to the appeals of their general, and sweep forward in resistless attack. The carnage is dreadful; the sacred groves are fired; the Druids perish in their own flames; and the setting sun sinks on a scene of desolation and death. As the gray embers die out, Druidism perishes.