Ab urbe condita

The Gauls pelted them with stones, a shout was raised by the Roman outpost and men ran together from both sides. Affairs were rapidly approaching a pitched battle had not the centurions promptly stopped the fighting.

This incident confirmed the Dictator's belief in what Tullius had told him, and as matters no longer admitted of delay he issued orders to prepare for battle on the following day. The Dictator was going into action feeling more assured as to the courage than as to the strength of his troops. He began to turn over in his mind every possible device by which he could inspire fear into the enemy.

At last he thought out an ingenious and original plan, one, too, which has since been adopted by many of our own generals as well as those of other countries and which is even practised to-day. He ordered the packsaddles to be taken off the mules and two pieces of coloured cloth placed on their backs.[*](This would give them the appearance of cavalry saddles.)

The muleteers were then furnished with arms, some taken from the prisoners and others belonging to the invalided soldiers, and after thus equipping about a thousand of them and

distributing a hundred of the cavalry amongst them he ordered them to ascend the mountains which overlooked the camp and conceal themselves in the woods, and remain there motionless till they received the signal from him.

As soon as it grew light the Dictator extended his lines along the lower slopes of the mountain in order that the enemy might have to form their front facing the mountain.

The arrangements for creating a groundless alarm were now completed, and that groundless alarm proved almost more serviceable than an actual increase of strength would have been. At first the leaders of the Gauls did not believe that the Romans would come down on to the plain, but when they saw them suddenly descending, they rushed on to meet them, eager for the encounter, and the battle commenced before the signal had been given by the commanders.

The Gauls directed their fiercest attack upon the Roman right, and the Dictator's presence with that division alone prevented the attack from succeeding.

When he saw the men wavering he called out sharply to Sextius and asked him if this was the way in which he had pledged his soldiers to fight. “Where,” he cried, “are the shouts of the men who clamoured for arms? Where are their threats of going into battle without their commander's orders?

Here is the commander, calling loudly to them to fight, and himself fighting in the forefront of the battle; who out of all those who were just now going to lead the way was following him? Braggarts in camp, cowards in battle!” They felt the truth of what they heard, and they were so stung by a sense of shame that they rushed on the enemy's weapons without any thought of danger.

They charged like madmen and threw the enemy's lines into confusion, and a cavalry attack which followed turned the confusion into rout.

As soon as the Dictator saw their line broken in this part of the field he turned the attack on to their left, where he saw them closing up into a crowded mass, and at the same time gave the agreed signal to those on the mountain.

When a fresh battle shout arose and these were seen crossing the mountain slope in the direction of the Gauls' camp, the enemy, afraid of being cut off, gave up the fight and ran in wild disorder to their camp.

They were met by Marcus Valerius, the Master of the Horse, who after putting their right wing to flight was riding up to their lines, and he turned their flight towards the mountain and woods.