ir piled-up bodies, and hurled their
javelins at the enemy as from a hill. They fought like men to whom life
without liberty was a curse. They were not defeated, but exterminated. Of
many thousand fighting men went home but five hundred. Upon reaching the
place of refuge where they had bestowed their women and children, Caesar
found, after the battle, that there were but three of their senators left
alive. So perished the Nervii. Caesar commanded his legions to treat with
respect the little remnant of the tribe which had just fallen to swell
the empty echo of his glory, and then, with hardly a breathing pause, he
proceeded to annihilate the Aduatici, the Menapii, and the Morini.

Gaul being thus pacified, as, with sublime irony, he expresses himself
concerning a country some of whose tribes had been annihilated, some sold
as slaves, and others hunted to their lairs like beasts of prey, the
conqueror departed for Italy. Legations for peace from many German races
to Rome were the consequence of these great achievements. Among others
the Batavians formed an alliance with the masters of the world. Their
position was always an honorable one. They were justly proud of paying no
tribute, but it was, perhaps, because they had nothing to pay. They had
few cattle, they could give no hides and horns like the Frisians, and
they were therefore allowed to furnish only their blood. From this time
forth their cavalry, which was the best of Germany, became renowned in
the Roman army upon every battle-field of Europe.

It is melancholy, at a later moment, to find the brave Batavians
distinguished in the memorable expedition of Germanicus to crush the
liberties of their German kindred. They are forever associated with the
sublime but misty image of the great Hermann, the hero, educated in Rome,
and aware of the colossal power of the empire, who yet, by his genius,
valor, and political adroitness, preserved for Germany her nationality,
her purer religion, and perhaps even that noble language which her
late-flowering literature has rendered so illustrious--but they are
associated as enemies, not as friends.

Galba, succeeding to the purple upon the suicide of Nero, dismissed the
Batavian life-guards to whom he owed his elevation. He is murdered, Otho
and Vitellius contend for the succession, while all eyes are turned upon
the eight Batavian regiments. In their hands the scales of empire seem to
rest. They declare for Vitellius, and the civ