he followers of
Theodoric, presented themselves before the Patrician Orestes, and
demanded that one-third of the lands of Italy should be assigned to them
as a perpetual inheritance. This was more than Orestes dared to grant,
and, on his refusal, Odovacar said to the mercenaries: "Make me king and
I will obtain for you your desire".

(23d Aug., 476) The offer was accepted; Odovacar was lifted high on a
shield by the arms of stalwart barbarians, and saluted as king by their
unanimous acclamations.

When the _foederati_ were gathered out of the "Roman" army, there seems
to have been nothing left that was capable of making any real defence of
the Empire. The campaign, if such it may be called, between Odovacar
and Orestes was of the shortest and most perfunctory kind. Ticinum
(_Pavia_), in which Orestes had taken refuge, was taken, sacked, and
partly burnt by the barbarians. The Master of the Soldiery himself fled
to Placentia, but was there taken prisoner and beheaded, only five days
after the elevation of Odovacar. A week later his brother Paulus, who
had not men enough to hold even the strong city of Ravenna, was taken
prisoner, and slain in the great pine-forest outside that city. At
Ravenna the young puppet-Emperor, Romulus, was also taken prisoner. The
barbarian showed himself more merciful, perhaps also more contemptuous,
towards his boy-rival than was the custom of the Emperors of Rome and
Constantinople towards the sons of their competitors. Odovacar, who
pitied the tender years of Augustulus, and looked with admiration on his
beautiful countenance, spared his life and assigned to him for a
residence the palace and gardens of Lucullus, the conqueror of
Mithridates, who five and a half centuries before had prepared for
himself this beautiful home (the Lucullanum) in the very heart of the
lovely Bay of Naples. The building and the fortifying of a great
commercial city have utterly altered the whole aspect of the bay, but in
the long egg-shaped peninsula, on which stands to-day the Castel dell'
Ovo, we can still see the outlines of the famous Lucullanum, in which
the last Roman Emperor of Rome ended his inglorious days. His conqueror
generously allowed him a pension of L3,600 per annum, but for how long
this pension continued to be a charge on the revenues of the new
kingdom we are unable to say. There is one doubtful indication of his
having survived his abdication by about thirty years,[48] but clear
historical n