The Count of the Saxon Shore; or The Villa in Vectis.<br />A Tale of the Departure of the Romans fro, Church and Putnam [summer beach reads TXT] 📗

camp. ‘To deliver other provinces from oppression and violence.’ Why not begin by trying his hand at home? ‘Full confidence in my loyalty.’ Truly [pg 97]valuable praise from so excellent a judge in the matter. ‘Such assistance as may be in my power.’ Well, I should be glad to see the last of this crew of adventurers and villains; but he sha’n’t have my ships.”

The Count’s position indeed was one of singular difficulty. He had thought it best—indeed he had found it necessary, if he was to do his own work—to keep on friendly terms with the usurpers who had gone before Constantine. It had been quite hopeless for him to attempt to coerce the legions. If they chose to make Emperors for themselves, he must let them do it, so long as they did not interfere with his liberty as a loyal subject. But this was a different matter. Crossing over into Gaul meant downright hostility to the authorities in Italy. How could he help it forward? And yet how could he prevent it? He had three ships available. All the others were laid up for the winter in harbours on the eastern and south-eastern shores of the island. With these he might do some damage to the legions in their passage; but the passage he could not hope to prevent. And if he did prevent it, what would be his own future relations with the army? Clearly he could not stay in Vectis, or indeed anywhere in Britain, for there was no place which he could hope to hold against a small detachment of the army. And to go, though it could easily be done, and would save him a vast [pg 98]amount of trouble, would be to give up his whole work, and to leave the unhappy inhabitants of the coast without protection from the pirates of the East. After long and anxious deliberation, which he did not disdain to share with his daughter and Carna, he resolved on a middle course, by following which he would neither help nor hinder. The first thing was to seek an interview with Constantine or his representatives, and a messenger was accordingly despatched suggesting a conference to be held on shipboard, under a flag of truce, off the mouth of the Great Harbour.

The proposition was accepted, and three days afterwards the conference was held, in the way that the Count had suggested. Each party brought a single ship, which was anchored for the greater convenience of carrying on the conversation, but was perfectly ready to slip its anchor in case of any threatening of treachery. The Count’s vessel had the Imperial standard at its mast-head; Constantine’s, on the other hand, had no distinguishing characteristic. Both he and his two sons were present, but the father was as silent as usual, and the chief spokesman was Julian.

The Count was very brief in his greetings, and indicated, as plainly as he could without saying it in so many words, that he did not acknowledge the pretensions of the usurper.

“My lord,” he said, “you have asked me to help in the transport of your army across the Channel. [pg 99]Briefly then I have not the means. I have but three ships ready for sea, and not one of these can I spare.”

“The Emperor can command their services,” said Julian.

“I have received no instructions from my master,” returned the Count, “to use them except for the protection of the coast.”

“You have them now,” said Julian, “and you will refuse to obey them at your peril.”

“My commission is made out by Flavius Honorius Augustus, and I know no other to whom I can yield obedience.”

A pause followed this plain speech; the party on board with Constantine debated the situation with some heat, Julian maintaining that the Count must be brought to reason, the others being anxious to keep on good terms with him.

“A single cohort can bring him to order,” cried the young Prince.

“Can drive him out of the villa doubtless,” said the more prudent Constans, “but not bring us an inch nearer getting the ships.”

“We may at least count on your friendship,” said Constans, Julian retiring sulkily from the negotiations; “you will not hinder the passage.”

“I have nothing to do with the disposition of the legions,” answered the Count, “and, as I said [pg 100]before, have no instructions except to defend the shore against the Pirates.”

“His Majesty will not be ungrateful,” said Constans.

“I owe no duty but to Honorius, and desire no favour but from him,” was the Count’s reply, and the conference was at an end.

The result was as favourable as Constantine could have expected. At least no opposition would be offered. Preparations for the passage were accordingly hurried on with all possible speed. All the towns along the coast were put under requisition for all the shipping that they could furnish, and, for the most part, were glad enough to answer the call. Whatever might happen in the future, it would be at least something to be rid of such troublesome neighbours. If other legions were to come, they might be more orderly and well-behaved. If these were to be the last, perhaps this would be a change for the better. Every one accordingly exerted himself to the utmost to supply the demand for transports.

It was a curious medley of vessels that assembled in the Great Harbour in the late autumn for the embarkation of the army. Old ships of war that had lain high and dry from before the memory of man were hastily pitched over and launched. Merchant vessels of every kind were there, from the huge hulks [pg 101]that were accustomed to carry heavy cargoes of metal from Cornwall, to the light barks