A Hero of Ancient Britain
There was a time, many years ago, when this England of ours was a savage country.
The oldest stories that we read about our island happened so long ago, that the English
had not yet come to the land where we live. In those days, the country was not called
England but Britain; and the people were the ancient Britons.
In the time of the Britons, the greater part of the country was covered with moors and
swamps, and with great forests, where dangerous wild animals lived: wolves and bears and
wild cats; where herds of deer wandered, and droves of wild cattle.
The ancient Britons lived in huts built of branches of trees plastered with mud, very low
in the roof, and dark, having no windows;
and there were no chimneys to let out the smoke. Their villages were only collections of
huts surrounded by a fence or stockade, and a ditch to keep out the wild animals, as well
as other Britons who were enemies of the tribe, for these wild people were always fighting
among themselves.
The Britons had blue eyes, and yellow or reddish hair, which both men and women wore long,
and hanging over their shoulders. In summer they went about with their chests and
shoulders almost bare, and in winter they clothed themselves in the skins of animals
killed in the chase.
They were a wild people, but so brave that we like to hear stories about them.
About two thousand years ago, when the Britons were living their savage life, there lived
in the country which is now Italy another people called the Romans. These Romans were one
of the greatest and wisest nations that have ever lived.
It seems strange that they should have left their own beautiful country to come to
Britain, with its cold climate and savage
inhabitants, but they were a very ambitious people, who would not be content until they
had subdued every other nation of the earth.
The Romans had already conquered all the nations round about their own country when the
Emperor Claudius became their chief; but Claudius wished to win glory by making fresh
conquests, and he determined to subdue the wild northern island of Britain.
Knowing that the Britons were a very fierce and brave people, he sent against them an army
of forty thousand men under the command of two skilful generals.
When the inhabitants of southern Britain saw the sea about their coasts covered with Roman
vessels, while more vessels were always appearing above the horizon, their anger and
dismay knew no bounds. They knew that the Romans were the bravest and most skilful
soldiers in the world, and that they had come to conquer them if they could, and to take
their country away from them.
As the soldiers, wearing their glittering breast-plates and helmets of polished steel, and
with the sun flashing upon the gold
and silver eagles which they carried for standards, landed from their vessels and marched
on their way to the place where they were going to make their camp, the Britons watched
them from their hiding-places with both rage and terror.
Still they did not despair. Old men among them were able to tell them how their ancestors
had withstood the Romans who had come to their shores a hundred years before, and how the
great Julius Caesar had been glad to make peace with the Britons and sail away to his own
country.
Messengers were sent far and near to summon the chiefs and their followers, and they
resolved to fight to the last.
The Britons proved to be some of the most determined foes that the Romans had ever met.
Battle after battle was fought, and the country still remained unsubdued. Sometimes the
Romans won, and sometimes the Britons were masters of the day. The Romans were trained
soldiers, while their opponents were wild and undisciplined
savages, but the Britons were fighting for their homes and freedom, and that made them
very brave.
Among the British leaders the noblest was a chieftain of the name of Caradoc, or as the
Romans called him, Caractacus. When some of the other chiefs, having been defeated many
times, were forced to make peace with the invaders, Caradoc refused to yield. Fighting
stubbornly, he contested every inch of southern Britain, but was slowly driven backwards
to the mountains of Wales.
Here he gathered around him a band of Britons as brave and determined as himself, and for
nearly nine years he held the Romans in check. The invaders, who did not know the country,
were unable to penetrate far among these valleys, where thick forests hemmed in the view,
and where every hillside might harbour a band of their savage foes.
It was impossible to reach Caradoc in this wild retreat. Accompanied by his followers, he
would leave the mountains and sweep
suddenly down upon a Roman camp in some distant part of the country. At a time when the
Romans were least expecting it, a band of these wild, red-headed warriors would appear,
yelling their war-cries as they let fly a shower of darts and arrows; then, after killing
and wounding a number of the enemy, they would vanish among their mountains before the
Romans had time to follow them up.
As years went on, a large number of Britons found their way to Caradoc in his Welsh
retreat. The mountains became full of desperate men who had been driven from their homes,
but were still determined to fight for freedom, and the example of their leader gave his
followers fresh courage.
After many years of fighting, the Romans saw that the country would never be subdued so
long as Caradoc should remain at liberty.
A great army was marched towards the stronghold of the daring chief. Caradoc mustered his
retainers, and found himself at the head of a body of men almost as
numerous as the Roman army. For nine years these Britons had remained unconquered; and the
brave band hoped that the day had now come when they might gain a victory which would end
in the invaders being driven out of the country.
Romans and Britons met on the borders of Wales.
The Britons, looking down from their mountains, saw the Romans on the plain far below.
Between the armies there flowed a river, which was joined by a torrent rushing down by the
side of a steep hill. Caradoc ordered his men to take up their station upon this hill, and
all night long the Britons worked to strengthen their defences by building up barricades
of loose stones.
When morning dawned the Britons could see the Roman legions forming in position. The
sunbeams were glancing upon the crests of the soldiers' helmets and upon the points of
their spears, and the Britons almost seemed to hear the voice of the general who was
riding his prancing war-horse round the ranks of his army.
The Britons were eager to attack, but before a man left his post Caradoc came forward and
spoke to his followers.
"Men of Britain," he said; "this day decides the fate of your country. Your liberty, or
your eternal slavery, dates from this hour. Remember your brave ancestors, who drove the
great Julius himself across the sea!"
The Britons were so stirred by these words that they replied by a great shout; then
rushing down the hill, they let fly a hail of darts and arrows upon the Roman army.
For a long time the battle raged, and neither side appeared to gain the advantage.
In order to meet the Britons hand to hand, the Romans had to cross the river under a storm
of darts. Many fell and were swept away by the current. Others struggled onward, to be
received by savage cries from the Britons, who tore stones from the barricade to hurl at
their advancing foes.
In spite of the fury of the defenders, the Romans swept steadily up the slope. Soon the
foremost had reached the barriers. They stumbled and fell among the loose
stones, but recovered themselves and pressed onwards, holding up their shields to ward off
the blows rained down upon them. The hillside became a seething mass of combatants; the
wild, active Britons flying hither and thither to repel the advance of the steel-clad
host. From the thick of the fight, Caradoc himself shouted encouragement to his soldiers,
who replied by shrill cries and by redoubled exertions.
The stone barriers were passed; Romans and Britons were mingled in a life-and-death
struggle.
Soon it became apparent that the day belonged to the better-armed combatants; the soft
copper swords of the Britons had been blunted upon the steel breast-plates of the Romans,
while their own wooden shields were hacked to pieces by the Roman swords.
In a short time the Britons were flying in all directions, unable any longer to resist the
Romans. Caradoc's two brothers were taken prisoners, and his wife and daughter fell into
the hands of the conquerers.
The British leader himself, weary, wounded and disheartened, found his way to the hut of
his mother-in-law, and asked her for shelter. She gave him a wolf-skin to lie upon by the
fire and soon he was fast asleep, worn out by fatigue and loss of blood.
For a time the old woman sat and watched him.
It had needed no words from the wounded, half-fainting chieftain to tell her that the day
was lost.
She thought of the proud Romans who were now masters of the country; of the villages which
would be burned, and of their inhabitants who would be carried away into slavery.
Being a selfish old woman, she soon began to think less of other people's troubles than of
her own.
What would happen to her, she wondered, were the Romans to come this way and find out that
she was giving shelter to the vanquished chieftain?
She trembled as she thought that soon this poor hut might shelter her no longer;
that her few belongings might be taken away from her, and she herself be driven out to
perish upon the cold hill-side.
As she looked at her guest, lying asleep in a corner, and frowning a little with the pain
of his wound, she felt as though she hated him.
An ugly look came into her face as she realised her helplessness.
Presently she heard cries echoing in the valley, and peeping from the door of the hut she
saw some flying Britons, closely pursued by two Roman soldiers.
The Britons disappeared in a thicket and were lost, and as the woman watched the soldiers
beating the bushes and brambles with their swords in a vain search for the fugitives, a
very evil thought came into her mind.
She left the hut, and crept along in the shelter of the rocks and trees, so that the
soldiers might not see where she had come from.
The soldiers were very much surprised when a little wild-looking, wrinkled old
woman stood before them, trying to tell them something in the language that the Britons
spoke.
They soon understood that she was offering to show them the hiding-place of a captive far
more important than the poor British warriors whom they had been pursuing.
"Come along then, old woman," said one of the soldiers; "show us the way."
A sly look came into the woman's small twinkling eyes. "Wait a little," she said; "what
are you going to give me for delivering this great captive into your hands?"
The soldiers looked at each other; and then one of them offered her a gold coin. The old
woman shook her head.
"No," she said; "this is a very, very great man, and the Romans would like very much to
catch him. You must give me far more than that if I show you the way to his hiding-place."
CARADOC BETRAYED TO THE ROMANS.
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The soldiers consulted together for a moment. From the old woman's manner,
she evidently had a noted chief or leader in her power.
"Here, old dame," they said, "if your prisoner is of such importance, you must come with
us to the general."
The old woman was delighted. The Roman general was of course a very rich man, and no doubt
he would give her a great deal of money for the captive.
"Let us be quick," she said; "my prisoner may wake up and go away before we come back."
The soldiers were astonished at the nimble way in which the old creature skipped over the
stones and heather, her little short steps covering the ground as quickly as their long,
steady strides. They were almost inclined to think that she must be one of the witches
about whom the Britons told such strange stories.
The general was not far away; and soon the old woman's little greedy eyes were looking up
into his grave stern face.
"Well, my good woman," he said, "who is this prisoner?"
The old woman grinned, showing a few tusk-like teeth. "He is a very great man," she said,
"and I can only give him up for a large sum of money."
"Tell me first who he is," said the general; "we can talk about the reward afterwards."
There was no one that the Romans despised so much as a traitor, and the general thought
this old woman was the most mean and base person he had ever met.
"The prisoner," said the woman, with a still wider grin, "is Caradoc himself. He came to
my hut after the battle; and you should have seen how pale and weary he was! He thought I
would shelter him, because he is my son-in-law, but after he had fallen asleep I said to
myself, 'The Romans are good folk, and they will be grateful to an old woman who hands
over a wicked rebel—"
"That will do, my good woman," said the general, cutting her short. "Here is a bag of
gold; it is your fee for delivering the British leader into our hands. Come and show us
where he is to be found; or if you
are playing us false it will be the worse for you.
The old woman's fingers closed round the gold, and her delight at getting so much money
prevented her from feeling the contempt in the general's voice and eyes.
Presently the tiny hut was surrounded by Roman soldiers. Bending his tall form at the
doorway, the general entered, followed by two soldiers leading between them the old woman,
whose skinny fingers were tightly clutching the bag of gold.
Caradoc stirred in his sleep, then he sat up and looked at the Romans.
His eyes fell upon his mother-in-law; and he understood.
He had to stand up and submit to having his hands bound behind his back by the Roman
soldiers.
The old woman left the hut and disappeared with her ill-gotten gains.
For once in her life she felt ashamed of herself.
She had betrayed her country, and although she was now one of the richest
women in Britain she was never really happy again.
When the wounded chieftain joined the other prisoners in the Roman camp, his wife and
daughter fell into his arms, weeping.
Caradoc tried his best to comfort them, and he begged all the prisoners to have courage,
and to bear their misfortunes like brave men and women.
After this victory the Roman general returned to his own country. Caradoc and the other
prisoners were carried on board the vessels of the conquerors; and after a voyage of many
days they landed upon the strange, unknown shores of Italy.
The Roman people were delighted to hear that the wild, savage island of Britain had at
last been subdued, and when the victorious general reached the city they resolved to give
him a public triumph.
The emperor and empress sat on thrones in front of their palace while the general was
drawn through the streets in a chariot decked with flowers and garlands. All the citizens
came out to see him, and the
balconies and even the roofs of the houses were crowded with people who shouted and
hurrahed and threw up their caps as the conqueror passed by.
Behind the chariot came the troops who had taken part in the victory. The soldiers marched
past in fighting array; their helmets and spears garlanded with flowers and with wreaths
of laurel, and they looked round them proudly in response to the shouts of their
countrymen.
But these were not the only people who took part in the procession.
Immediately behind the general followed the captives whom he had taken in the war; Caradoc
with his wife and daughter and the other prisoners who had helped him in his nine years'
struggle with the Romans.
As these poor captives passed, loaded with chains, the people in the streets jeered at
them and shouted out unkind speeches. Most of the prisoners walked with downcast eyes and
sad faces, but Caradoc marched along with so proud a bearing that the spectators wondered
at the courage shown
by this savage chief. He did not seem to feel the dust and glare, or to be abashed by the
hard, unfeeling gaze of the thousands of people who had come out to stare at him.
As he passed he looked at the fine buildings, at the triumphal arches, and the marble
palaces, and at the gaily dressed people who thronged the streets. Sometimes he looked up
into the sunny Italian sky; and he was evidently thinking deeply. Some one asked him what
he was thinking" about.
"I was wondering," said Caradoc, "how these people could envy me my mud cottage and my few
fields so far away in our poor, cold, northern Britain?"
The spectators, who had flocked from all parts of Italy to see the famous chief; began to
think it was a pity that so brave a man should be put to death.
After the triumph, the emperor wished to meet this gallant savage face to face.
Caradoc and his wife were brought before Claudius, who, in royal garments of purple and
gold, was seated upon an ivory throne.
Caradoc looked at the emperor with his
calm, brave eyes, and did not appear to be in the least dismayed.
Claudius said to himself that this British chief was a truly great man. He asked his
prisoner what he thought of Rome.
"I think it is a very great and wonderful city," replied Caradoc, "and that its people are
a very great people."
"Do you know what this great people do to those who have been bold enough to resist their
will?" asked the emperor.
"Yes," replied Caradoc simply; "I am told that you put their leaders to death when you
have captured them; and I wonder that a wise and great people like the Romans should have
such a custom. After having defeated a man, what greater glory is to be won by putting him
to death? It seems to me that it would be more worthy of the Roman people to spare him in
order to show that they are generous as well as brave."
Claudius was so pleased with his captive's wise and fearless reply that he had him
restored to liberty, with his wife and family.
The Roman who has told us the story of
Caradoc in one of his books does not say whether the brave chief was allowed to return to
Britain, or whether he had to spend the rest of his life in the land of his conquerors.
I hope his captors sent him back to Britain, for I am sure that he loved his native land
the best, and that he would have liked to end his days among the brave countrymen who had
helped him to withstand the great and powerful nation of Rome.
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