The common
soldiers felt safe in their obscurity, and, careless of the future,
continued to offer resistance.
soldiers felt safe in their obscurity, and, careless of the future,
continued to offer resistance.
Tacitus
At the same moment one of the towers on the rampart gave way
under a shower of stones. While the men of the Seventh struggled up to
the breach in close column,[79] the Third hewed down the gate with
hatchets and swords. All the authorities[80] agree that Caius Volusius
of the Third legion was the first man in. Emerging on the top of the
rampart, he hurled down those who barred his path, and from this
conspicuous position waved his hand and shouted that the camp was
taken. The others poured through, while the Vitellians in panic flung
themselves down from the rampart, and the whole space between the camp
and the walls became a seething scene of carnage.
Here, again, was a new type of task for the Flavians. Here were 30
high walls, stone battlements, iron-barred gates, and soldiers hurling
javelins. The citizens of Cremona were numerous and devoted to the
cause of Vitellius, and half Italy had gathered there for the Fair
which fell just at that time. Their numbers were a help to the
defenders, but the prospect of plundering them offered an incentive to
their assailants. Antonius ordered his men to bring fire and apply it
to the most beautiful of the buildings outside the walls, hoping that
the loss of their property might induce the citizens to turn traitor.
The houses that stood nearest to the walls and overtopped them he
crowded with his bravest troops, who dislodged the defenders with
showers of beams and tiles and flaming torches. Meanwhile, some of 31
the legionaries began to advance in 'tortoise' formation,[81] while
others kept up a steady fire of javelins and stones.
Gradually the spirit of the Vitellians ebbed. The higher their rank,
the more easily they gave way to misfortune. For they were afraid that
if Cremona too[82] was demolished, there would be no hope of pardon;
the victors' fury would fall not on the common poor but on the
tribunes and centurions, whom it would pay to kill.
The common
soldiers felt safe in their obscurity, and, careless of the future,
continued to offer resistance. They roamed the streets or hid
themselves in houses, and though they had given up the war, refused
even so to sue for peace. Meanwhile the tribunes and centurions did
away with the name and portraits of Vitellius. [83] They released
Caecina, who was still in irons,[84] and begged his help in pleading
their cause. When he turned from them in haughty contempt they
besought him with tears. It was, indeed, the last of evils that all
these brave men should invoke a traitor's aid. They then hung veils
and fillets[85] out on the walls, and when Antonius had given the
order to cease firing, they carried out their standards and eagles,
followed by a miserable column of disarmed soldiers, dejectedly
hanging their heads. The victors had at first crowded round, heaping
insults on them and threatening violence, but when they found that the
vanquished had lost all their proud spirit, and turned their cheeks
with servile endurance to every indignity, they gradually began to
recollect that these were the men who had made such a moderate use of
their victory at Bedriacum. [86] But when the crowd parted, and Caecina
advanced in his consular robes, attended by his lictors in full state,
their indignation broke into flame. They charged him with insolence
and cruelty, and--so hateful is crime--they even flung his treachery
in his teeth. [87] Antonius restrained them and sent Caecina under
escort to Vespasian.
Meanwhile the citizens of Cremona suffered sorely from the 32
violence of the troops, and only the entreaties of their generals
could withhold them from a general massacre. Antonius summoned a mass
meeting and delivered a eulogy upon his victorious army, promising
mercy to the vanquished and speaking of Cremona in ambiguous terms.
Besides their natural passion for plunder, there was an old grudge
which urged them to sack Cremona. The town was believed to have given
assistance to the Vitellian cause before this in the war with
Otho;[88] and again, when the Thirteenth had been left behind to
build an amphitheatre,[89] the populace had shown its town-bred
impertinence by assailing them with insolent ridicule. Other causes
increased this bad feeling: it was here that Caecina had given his
show of gladiators:[89] the town had become for a second time the
theatre of the war: the citizens had conveyed food to the Vitellians
during the battle: some women had been killed, whose enthusiasm for
the cause had led them to take part in the fight.
under a shower of stones. While the men of the Seventh struggled up to
the breach in close column,[79] the Third hewed down the gate with
hatchets and swords. All the authorities[80] agree that Caius Volusius
of the Third legion was the first man in. Emerging on the top of the
rampart, he hurled down those who barred his path, and from this
conspicuous position waved his hand and shouted that the camp was
taken. The others poured through, while the Vitellians in panic flung
themselves down from the rampart, and the whole space between the camp
and the walls became a seething scene of carnage.
Here, again, was a new type of task for the Flavians. Here were 30
high walls, stone battlements, iron-barred gates, and soldiers hurling
javelins. The citizens of Cremona were numerous and devoted to the
cause of Vitellius, and half Italy had gathered there for the Fair
which fell just at that time. Their numbers were a help to the
defenders, but the prospect of plundering them offered an incentive to
their assailants. Antonius ordered his men to bring fire and apply it
to the most beautiful of the buildings outside the walls, hoping that
the loss of their property might induce the citizens to turn traitor.
The houses that stood nearest to the walls and overtopped them he
crowded with his bravest troops, who dislodged the defenders with
showers of beams and tiles and flaming torches. Meanwhile, some of 31
the legionaries began to advance in 'tortoise' formation,[81] while
others kept up a steady fire of javelins and stones.
Gradually the spirit of the Vitellians ebbed. The higher their rank,
the more easily they gave way to misfortune. For they were afraid that
if Cremona too[82] was demolished, there would be no hope of pardon;
the victors' fury would fall not on the common poor but on the
tribunes and centurions, whom it would pay to kill.
The common
soldiers felt safe in their obscurity, and, careless of the future,
continued to offer resistance. They roamed the streets or hid
themselves in houses, and though they had given up the war, refused
even so to sue for peace. Meanwhile the tribunes and centurions did
away with the name and portraits of Vitellius. [83] They released
Caecina, who was still in irons,[84] and begged his help in pleading
their cause. When he turned from them in haughty contempt they
besought him with tears. It was, indeed, the last of evils that all
these brave men should invoke a traitor's aid. They then hung veils
and fillets[85] out on the walls, and when Antonius had given the
order to cease firing, they carried out their standards and eagles,
followed by a miserable column of disarmed soldiers, dejectedly
hanging their heads. The victors had at first crowded round, heaping
insults on them and threatening violence, but when they found that the
vanquished had lost all their proud spirit, and turned their cheeks
with servile endurance to every indignity, they gradually began to
recollect that these were the men who had made such a moderate use of
their victory at Bedriacum. [86] But when the crowd parted, and Caecina
advanced in his consular robes, attended by his lictors in full state,
their indignation broke into flame. They charged him with insolence
and cruelty, and--so hateful is crime--they even flung his treachery
in his teeth. [87] Antonius restrained them and sent Caecina under
escort to Vespasian.
Meanwhile the citizens of Cremona suffered sorely from the 32
violence of the troops, and only the entreaties of their generals
could withhold them from a general massacre. Antonius summoned a mass
meeting and delivered a eulogy upon his victorious army, promising
mercy to the vanquished and speaking of Cremona in ambiguous terms.
Besides their natural passion for plunder, there was an old grudge
which urged them to sack Cremona. The town was believed to have given
assistance to the Vitellian cause before this in the war with
Otho;[88] and again, when the Thirteenth had been left behind to
build an amphitheatre,[89] the populace had shown its town-bred
impertinence by assailing them with insolent ridicule. Other causes
increased this bad feeling: it was here that Caecina had given his
show of gladiators:[89] the town had become for a second time the
theatre of the war: the citizens had conveyed food to the Vitellians
during the battle: some women had been killed, whose enthusiasm for
the cause had led them to take part in the fight.