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Bernaletto Cardiacious Directory 06
Page 04
The Great Latin War_, B.C. 340.--The legion in B.C. 340 had almost entirely discarded the tactics of the phalanx. It was now drawn up in three, or perhaps we ought to say, in five lines. The soldiers of the first line, called Hastati, consisted of youths in the first bloom of manhood, distributed into 15 companies or maniples (_manipuli_), a moderate space being left between each. The maniple contained 60 privates, 2 centurions (_centuriones_), and a standard-bearer (_vexillarius_). The second line, the Principes, was composed of men in the full vigor of life, divided in like manner into 15 maniples, all heavily armed. The two lines of the Hastati and Principes taken together amounted to 30 maniples, and formed the Antepilani. The third line, the Triarii, composed of tried veterans, was also in 15 divisions, but each of these was triple, containing 3 maniples. In these triple maniples the veterans, or Triarii proper, formed the front ranks; immediately behind them stood the Rorarii, inferior in age and prowess, while the Accensi, or supernumeraries, less trustworthy than either, were posted in the extreme rear.
Two months passed, and the weather was becoming cold. The old man was up earlier than usual one morning; still he seemed more feeble. He tottered about the cabin, his frame shook and trembled, and his whole system seemed to be under some new excitement. He had formed a strong attachment for Tite, whom he now approached with his hands extended. "Like you," he said, grasping his hand firmly and looking up imploringly into his face, "I was young and handsome once. I am old and ugly now. Crime has written its ugly finger all over my face; has thrust its poison into this poor heart of mine. Never let it lay one ugly finger on your face. Make yours a life of joy, so that you may die happy. Oh, these poor old gray hairs of mine, this head that has sinned so much." And he raised his hard, bony hand to his head, and tossed the long white hair back over his shoulders.
On January 21st we made a long and tedious march, rising all the time among slippery rocks along precipices, or sinking in swampy mud on the narrow trail. Picturesque waterfalls of great height were visible in volcanic vents, some square, others crescent-shaped, on the face of the mountain. The torrents, swollen by the heavy rains, were difficult to cross, my mules on several occasions being nearly swept away by the foaming current. We sank in deep red slush and in deep holes filled with water, but continued all the time to ascend a gentle but continuous incline. We travelled that day from six o'clock in the morning until six o'clock in the evening, rain pouring down upon us all the time. We were simply smothered in mud from head to foot.
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