The gladiators were commanded, as we have already seen,[209] by
Julianus, and the sailors by Apollinaris, men whose dissolute
inefficiency better suited gladiators than general officers. They set
no watch, and made no attempt to repair the weak places in the walls.
Day and night they idled loosely; the soldiers were dispatched in all
directions to find them luxuries; that beautiful coast rang with their
revelry; and they only spoke of war in their cups. A few days earlier,
Apinius Tiro[210] had started on his mission, and, by rigorously
requisitioning gifts of money in all the country towns, was winning
more unpopularity than assistance for the cause.
In the meantime, one of Vergilius Capito's slaves deserted to 77
Lucius Vitellius, and promised that, if he were provided with men, he
would put the abandoned castle into their hands. Accordingly, at dead
of night he established a few lightly armed cohorts on the top of the
hills which overlooked the enemy. Thence the soldiers came charging
down more to butchery than battle. They cut down their victims
standing helpless and unarmed or hunting for their weapons, or perhaps
newly startled from their sleep--all in a bewildering confusion of
darkness, panic, bugle-calls, and savage cries. A few of the
gladiators resisted and sold their lives dearly. The rest rushed to
the ships; and there the same panic and confusion reigned, for the
villagers were all mixed up with the troops, and the Vitellians
slaughtered them too, without distinction.
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