THE SCARLET BANNER

The Scarlet Banner

By FELIX DAHN

Translated from the German by MARY J. SAFFORD

TRANSLATOR OF "A Captive of the Roman Eagles," "Felicitas," etc.

Chicago A. C. McClurg & Co. 1903

COPYRIGHT A. C. MCCLURG & CO. 1903

Right of Dramatization Reserved

Published October 14, 1903

UNIVERSITY PRESS . JOHN WILSON AND SON . CAMBRIDGE . U.S.A.

DEDICATED

IN DEEP REVERENCE AND WARM FRIENDSHIP

TO

HIS EXCELLENCY

ACTING PRIVY-COUNCILLOR AND PROFESSOR

HERR DR. KARL HASE

OF JENA

Only through the same virtues by which they were founded will kingdoms be maintained.

Sallustius, Catilina.

O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!

Shakespeare, Hamlet.

PREFACE

This story, published in Germany under the title of Gelimer is the third volume in the group of romances to which "Felicitas" and "The Captive of the Roman Eagles" belong, and, like them, deals with the long-continued conflict between the Germans and the Romans.

But in the present novel the scene of the struggle is transferred from the forests of Germania to the arid sands of Africa, and, in wonderfully vivid pen-pictures, the author displays the marvellous magnificence surrounding the descendants of the Vandal Genseric, the superb pageants of their festivals, and the luxury whose enervating influence has gradually sapped the strength and courage of the rude, invincible warriors--once the terror of all the neighboring coasts and islands--till their enfeebled limbs can no longer support the weight of their ancestors' armor, and they cast aside their helmets to crown themselves with the rose-garlands of Roman revellers.

The pages glow with color as the brilliant changeful vision of life in Carthage, under the Vandal rule, rises from the mists of the vanished centuries, and the characters which people this ancient world are no less varied. The noble king, the subtle Roman, Verus, the gallant warrior, Zazo, Hilda, the beautiful, fearless Ostrogoth Princess, the wily Justinian, his unscrupulous Empress, Theodora, and their brave, impetuous general, Belisarius, are clearly portrayed; and, underlying the whole drama, surges the fierce warfare between Roman Catholic and Arian, while the place and the period in which the scenes of the romance are laid, both comparatively little known, lend a peculiar charm and freshness to the gifted author's narrative.

MARY J. SAFFORD.

THE

SCARLET BANNER

BOOK ONE

BEFORE THE WAR

CHAPTER I

To Cornelius Cethegus Cæsarius, a Friend:

I send these notes to you rather than to any other man. Why? First of all, because I know not where you are, so the missive will probably be lost. Doubtless that would be the best thing which could happen, especially for the man who would then be spared reading these pages! But it will also be well for me that these lines should lie--or be lost--in some other place than here. For here in Constantinople they may fall into certain dainty little well-kept hands, which possibly might gracefully wave an order to cut off my head--or some other useful portion of my anatomy to which I have been accustomed since my birth. But if I send these truths hence to the West, they will not be so easily seized by those dangerous little fingers which discover every secret in the capital, whenever they search in earnest. Whether you are living in your house at the foot of the Capitol, or with the Regent at Ravenna, I do not know; but I shall despatch this to Rome, for toward Rome my thoughts fly, seeking Cethegus.

You may ask derisively why I write what is so dangerous. Because I must! I praise--constrained by fear--so many people and things with my lips that I condemn in my heart, that I must at least confess the truth secretly in writing. Well, I might write out my rage, read it, and then throw the pages into the sea, you say. But--and this is the other reason for this missive--I am vain, too. The cleverest man I know must read, must praise what I write, must be aware that I was not so foolish as to believe all I extolled to be praiseworthy. Later perhaps I can use the notes,--if they are not lost,--when at some future day I write the true history of the strange things I have experienced and shortly shall undergo.

So keep these pages if they do reach you. They are not exactly letters; it is a sort of diary that I am sending to you. I shall expect no answer. Cethegus does not need me, at present. Why should Cethegus write to me, now? Yet perhaps I shall soon learn your opinion from your own lips. Do you marvel?

True, we have not met since we studied together at Athens. But possibly I may soon seek you in your Italy. For I believe that the war declared to-day against the Vandals is but the prelude to the conflict with your tyrants, the Ostrogoths. Now I have written the great secret which at present is known to so few.

It is a strange thing to see before one, in clear, sharp letters, a terrible fate, pregnant with blood and tears, which no one else suspects; at such times the statesman feels akin to the god who is forging the thunderbolt that will so soon strike happy human beings. Pitiable, weak, mortal god! Will your bolt hit the mark? Will it not recoil against you? The demi-god Justinian and the goddess Theodora have prepared this thunder-bolt; the eagle Belisarius will carry it; we are starting for Africa to make war upon the Vandals.

Now you know much, O Cethegus. But you do not yet know all,--at least, not all about the Vandals. So learn it from me; I know. During the last few months I have been obliged to deliver lectures to the two gods--and the eagle--about these fair-haired fools. But whoever is compelled to deliver lectures has sense enough bestowed upon him to perform the task. Look at the professors at Athens. Since the reign of Justinian the lecture-rooms have been closed to them. Who still thinks them wise?

So listen: The Vandals are cousins of your dear masters, the Ostrogoths. They came about a hundred years ago--men, women, and children, perhaps fifty thousand in number--from Spain to Africa. Their leader was a