Chapter XIX: The Vision and Its Interpretation

There were frequent messengers came and went to and from the tent of Attila, and there was movement and agitation in the camp. Round the monarch sat his tributary kings; and various were the different shades of expression which passed over the countenances of those fierce chiefs, as they listened to the words of their leader, and heard all that had befallen since, on the preceding day, the great pontiff of Rome had appeared to stay them in their advance.

"It was but a vision of the night!" said Attila--"it was but some idle dream, and yet it came before me full, tangible, complete. There was no wandering of thought to other things, no confusion of fancies, no breaking off and beginning again; but it was all clear and definite, accurate and minute; and yet it was but a vision, an idle dream, which Attila will heed no more than he would a fanciful cloud wrought into strange forms by the wind that bears it."

"Heed no visions, oh Attila!" said Ardaric--"the only sure vision will be the walls of Rome."

"And yet, oh mighty king!" joined in Onegisus, "one at least here present would fain hear the substance of the dream that disturbed thy slumbers. It has been held by wise men and by priests long versed in sacred things, that dreams come forth from the gods, and are one means of making their will known to men. I at least would fain hear what vision it was that broke the sleep of Attila."

"And I also! and I! and I!" said many voices round as soon as the demand was made; and leaning his broad brow upon his hand, with his eyes fixed thoughtfully upon the table at which he sat, Attila not unwillingly proceeded to speak as they required.

"It seemed to me as if I had slept some hours," he said, "and that I was awakened by a noise, when, looking up, I saw all things around me as I had seen them when I closed mine eyes. There were the hangings of the tent, there the clothing I had put off to rest, there burnt the feeble lamp, there lay the strong sword. Two javelins crossed hung upon my right, and a spear lay near me on the ground. I saw it all as distinctly as ere I closed my eyes that night, when lo! the hangings of the tent were moved, raised up; and, without sound or motion of their limbs, the figures of two men approached my couch. A cloud of light environed them around, hiding in its blaze all things behind it. The lamp grew dim as if it had not been lighted, and in this cloud, borne on to where I lay, the strangers came, clothed in strange robes, simple and unadorned, with hair and beards of snowy whiteness, and the marks of extreme age upon the face of each. One, however, was older than the other, and of coarser features, though there was a fire and eagerness in his large eye which spoke a mighty and energetic spirit, prompt in its emotions and its acts. The younger seemed more calm and of a loftier aspect, and on his countenance were seen the traces of high thoughts, perhaps, too, of some sufferings endured with fortitude, but felt with keen perception. A smile, bland and beautiful, sat on his lips, and there was in his glance that quick yet thoughtful movement which I have seen in men, deep arguers on right and wrong, subtle in their eloquence, and powerful to untie the tangled intricacy of questions remote and difficult. Around them in that cloud of light there shone a greater light, as if it issued forth from them and from their garments; and though they seemed of flesh as we are, yet there was a difference that scarcely can be told, but which rendered their bodies more glorious and pure to the eye than ours. I would fain have stretched out my hand to seize my sword, but I lay as if chained down by adamantine bonds. I would fain have spoken, to demand who dared in such a sort to disturb the sleep of Attila, but my tongue refused its office, and my lips moved without a sound. Approaching, as I have said, without any visible motion of their limbs, but borne forward by some unseen power, they came near, and stood by the side of my couch: there, gazing upon me for a moment, their eyes seemed filled with pity or with sorrow, and at length the younger said, 'Attila! Attila! thou hast fought, and thou hast conquered, and unwittingly, but not unwillingly, thou hast done the will of God! Now turn thee back upon thy way, for thou shalt smite this land no more. Turn thee back upon thy way, and hesitate not, for we are sent to bid thee sheath the sword, lest it fall upon thine own head. Turn thee back, turn thee back, and that speedily, as thou wouldst live and conquer still!' And with that the light grew faint, the figures seemed to dissolve, the cloud passed away; and I was lying in my own tent, with the lamp burning feebly by my side. It was but a vision, an idle dream, and it is passed! Attila heeds it not. It was but a vision, an unreal vision!"

"It was a strange one though, oh mighty king!" said Onegisus; "and I would fain ask yon holy man who came hither yesterday if he can give the interpretation thereof, and tell who were these that appeared unto thee."

"First let those who slept in the outer tent," said Ardaric, "be closely questioned if any one passed by them in the night."

"I have questioned them already," said Attila--"I have done more: I rose instantly--for my limbs and my mind seemed freed as if from a heavy weight--and drawing back the curtains that divide the tent, I found that no one living could have entered without treading on the sleeping bodies of those of my warriors who lay without. It was but a vision, an idle vision of the night!"

"I put no faith in visions," said Ardaric: "they never visit me. If I dream, 'tis of some empty thing, taking fanciful shapes without regularity or continuance, forgotten as soon as passed. I put no faith in visions."

Attila's brow contracted slightly, but he made no reply; and Valamir, his Gothic tributary, who had hitherto remained thoughtful and silent, now raised his eyes. "Thy vision is a strange one, oh king," he said, "and worthy of some consideration. More, perhaps, than thou thyself art willing to bestow upon it. Yet would I not ask the interpretation of this eloquent man, whose voice was heard so powerfully yesterday; for he of course will see therein a confirmation of his own warnings. There is another in the camp who may be better trusted. Dost thou remember, oh mighty Attila, a holy hermit, who dwelt in the mountains two or three days' journey from Margus, and who--"

"But he is dead," interrupted Attila; "he has been dead two years."

"True," replied Valamir; "but near him there dwelt another hermit, less shrewd and wise, perhaps, but, even more than he was, touched with the fire of the gods. Wild, rash, and fearless, he speaks whatever the spirit prompts, and in such a man's interpretation one may trust his confidence. Among the train who followed hither this high-priest of Rome was the very man, and well acquainted with the manners and the languages of us people of the North. He was wandering yesterday evening through the camp; and I myself saw him preaching boldly strange doctrines of other gods to a large crowd of Huns and Gepid[ae]. Let him be sent for, and to him let the vision be told. On his interpretation we can better rely."

All voices applauded the proposal, and instantly was it executed. Messengers went forth to find the enthusiast Mizetus, and in a few minutes he stood before Attila and his counsellors. He was silent as the grave while the vision was being told to him; but then--stretching forth his hands, and turning his eyes full upon the countenance of Attila, though not with a fixed and steadfast gaze, but with a wild and rolling glance--he exclaimed, "Is it not simple as the light of day? Is it not open as the summer's sky? Is it not clear as the waters from the rock? What need of interpretation? What need of any one to explain? There is but one God, oh Attila! though thou and these, as slaves of Satan, worship stone, and wood, and iron. That God has been merciful to thee, oh king! and has sent unto thee the apostles of his son, Peter the prince of the apostles, and Paul the chosen by the voice of God! To thee, from another world, he has sent those, through the midst of thy sleeping guards, who, when they lived in this world, passed through the hands of jailers, cast from them the fetters of iron, and walked free through the prison doors of the Roman governor. To thee has he sent them in mercy, to turn thee back from the way of destruction. Listen to their words, tread back thy steps, sheath the sword, open thy heart to the word of God, and thou shalt be safe. If thou doest not this, if thou goest on in rapine and injustice, shedding the blood of the faithful and smiting the people of Christ, lo! I tell thee, when thine errand is accomplished, and the judgments of God wrought out, thou shalt die by some despised death; thine armies shall melt away like snow, the bodies of thy warriors slain shall rot under the summer's sky, and a pestilence shall go forth from their bones to root out those whom the sword has spared. Wo unto you! wo unto your mighty men, for the sword of the Lord is out against you, and he shall scatter you to the uttermost parts of the earth, and shall grind your mouths in the dirt of the earth ye have trodden so proudly, and shall cast ye forth as dead dogs, to be an abomination to the passer-by!"

More than one sword leaped from its sheath at those bold words, but the deep, thunder-like voice of Attila stayed them from smiting the rash enthusiast. "Harm him not, harm him not!" cried the monarch. "By the soul of Attila, he dies who strikes him! Did we not bid him speak? Did we not call for his words? and shall we slay him because they are such as please us not? Stranger," he continued, "thou hast spoken rashly among rash men, nevertheless thou art safe, and mayst depart!"

Mizetus turned to leave the tent; but, ere he went, he raised his hand, and said, in a solemn tone, "I grieve for thee, oh Attila! for thy fate is near!"

"Let it come!" replied Attila--and the enthusiast departed.

"We have spent too much time on this thing," continued the monarch, "let us now turn our thoughts to more substantial warnings. Ardaric, my friend, as thou hast said, this vision was indeed but an empty dream, and but matter for a moment's speculation; but I have tidings for thee which thou knowest not of, for thy Gepid[ae] lie high up upon the hill. There are those here, however, who know that between sunset last night and sunrise this morning, the sword of the pestilence smote among the warriors who lie by the side of the river nearly ten thousand men!"

Ardaric started up, and gazed fixedly on the countenance of Attila.

"Itis true!" said the monarch; "but this is not all, my friend. A fleet from Constantinople has wafted a new host to our noble enemy [AE]tius; nor is that all either," he added, raising his voice; "the armies of Marcian have crossed the Danube, and cut to pieces three of our tribes upon the Dacian frontier. Now, friends and counsellors, you know the whole. Tell me what shall be the course of Attila. Shall I go on, and lay Rome in ashes? Shall I pause here, and accept the tribute this priest is prepared to offer? Willing am I to do the first, willing would I be to do it, were I as sure that death would follow within a day as I am that there is a sun behind the clouds that now stretch over the sky."

"Hear what he has to offer, oh mighty king," said Ardaric; "then, if it be enough to satisfy the honour of Attila and save the glory of his warriors, accept the conditions. Let us retire from this pestilential land, and then--"

"What then?" demanded Attila, after waiting for a moment to let the chief conclude his sentence.

"Nay, I know not," replied Ardaric. "Then--let us do whatsoever Attila will."

A brief smile passed like lightning across the countenance of the king. "And then," he said, "and then--to Constantinople! and we shall see who is to live or die; who is to be a monarch, who a slave! The sword of a thousand battles against the broken spear of a weak Roman! Methinks the chances are unequal. Kings of great nations! Friends of Attila! There is no need to ask what are the terms this Roman bishop brings. They are known to me already--revealed to me in no vision, Ardaric, but told to my messenger at my demand. He offers a gift ten times in value all that the East and West have ever given, an annual tribute double that which we received from Theodosius. A future compensation for the dowry of Honoria, and the restitution of all captives and fugitives from the Hunnish nation! Is this sufficient?"

"It is! it is!" replied the chiefs; and a messenger was instantly despatched to summon Saint Leo to the tent of the barbarian monarch.

With the same calm dignity as before, the prelate presented himself before the council of Attila, and in his whole demeanour there was that grand, but simple and unassuming majesty, which commanded the reverence, the respect--almost the love--of men of a different nation, creed, language, manners, habits, thoughts. Attila himself rose at his approach, and, with an air not less in dignity, took him by the hand and placed him by his side.

The pontiff felt that he had touched the heart of the barbarian, and he was more moved at having done so than had the utmost ire of that mighty king--a king who feared no chastisement, acknowledged no laws but his own sense of right, bowed to no superior on earth or in heaven--than had his ire threatened the worst tortures that could be inflicted. Through the reverence with which he had inspired the barbarian monarch he saw, as through a long avenue, a number of sympathies, noble feelings, and generous sentiments, akin to those which dwelt in his own heart; while hope stood half way between, and beckoned to the kindred bands to unite for mighty purposes and grand endeavours. A moment's reflection, however, a moment's glance of the mental eye over the sad but solemn and oracular book of experience, showed him the falsehood of the siren's tale, and made him grieve that the brightest feelings of the human heart, mutually perceived and understood, and which, could they meet and co-operate, would work out the blessing and happiness of thousands, should ever thus be stopped by obstacles insignificant, and totally unseen by those who attempt to pass them, till all their efforts for unanimity and concord are overthrown.

Calmly and clearly, in answer to the questions of the king, he recapitulated the splendid, the degrading offers of Valentinian; and he added, "This, oh king, am I commanded to propose: this am I authorized to promise. The gift is already in thy camp; the tribute shall soon follow; and--as a mediator between thee and them who suffer, standing pure and impartial under the eye of God, who is of no nation and of no country, and respecteth no man for a name--I declare that thou hast now offered unto thee more than thou canst claim aright; more than equity could pronounce against them; more than justice can award unto thy claim. But when unto all this is added the great triumph of clemency, the mighty privilege of showing mercy, the triumphant glory of sparing those thou couldst destroy; so help me Heaven, as I do believe that there is offered unto thee more than even thy conquering sword could win, more than thy highest ambition could desire, more than thy vastest efforts could attain! Is it more glorious to slaughter than to save? Is it more mighty to destroy than to spare? Is it a greater sign of power to cast down than to raise up? He that saves from the slayer is greater than the slayer; he that shields from the destroyer is victorious over the destroyer; and he that raises up does a deed which shall last long after he who casts down is forgotten! Spare then, oh Attila, spare the nations! and if in sparing them thou gainest a triumph over thyself, thou doest that which the noblest of thine enemies has never been able to do, and raisest to thyself the crowning trophy of thy fame, under which shall be written by the hand of history, '_None but Attila gained the victory over Attila!_'"

Even had he not spoken, the terms he offered would have been accepted; but had they been less than they were, they would have been accepted under the influence of his voice. The gorgeous presents were brought up and displayed before the tent of Attila. The gold and the silver were poured out; the jewels and the cloth of gold were displayed to the eyes of the admiring chiefs who crowded round. But Attila himself looked not on them; his eyes were either thoughtfully lifted to the sky, in that direction wherein lay Rome, or else bent down in deep reflection upon the ground, while traces of emotion, slight indeed in themselves, but still from their unusualness indicative of strong feelings within, might be traced upon his countenance.

When all the gifts were displayed, he turned abruptly to Saint Leo, saying, "Messenger of a mighty God, Attila turns upon his steps. Take what thou wilt of these baubles, either as an offering to thy Deity or as a gift unto thyself!"

"God forbid!" replied the pontiff: "the God I serve--the only God!--dwells not in temples made with hands, and requires no offerings from the sons of men but a pure and contrite spirit, a repentant and an humble heart. As for me, I take no part in the spoils of my brethren, and I leave them to him to whom they were sent, and of whose forbearance they are the price and recompense."

"Thou art the first priest," cried Attila--"thou art the first priest of any god that ever yet I heard of who refused gold and jewels when they were offered to him freely."

"Thou hast known but few Christian priests, my son," replied Saint Leo, mildly. "The priests thou hast known were the servants of those whom we call devils, Mammon; or Plutus, the demon of covetousness; Belial, Lucifer, or Apollo, the god of pride; Moloch or Mars, the demon of bloodshed. The priests of all these and many others, for their several purposes, seek wealth and splendour; but the servants of God, the only true God, seek his glory, and know their own unworthiness. Oh Attila, I leave thee! I came unto thee, knowing that thou hadst a mighty name, and that none upon this earth had been found to conquer thee; that kings, and princes, and warriors of great renown bowed down trembling before thee, and shrunk from the very glance of thine eye; and yet I feared thee not. I go from thee now with my reverence not lessened, but with deep sorrow at my heart, to find nobler qualities in thy nature; qualities which, guiding and directing the inferior ones of courage and military skill, have made thee what thou art; and yet to see that those qualities, like diamonds in some undiscovered mine, lie wasting all their brightness, because they are not known and estimated. The knowledge of one true God, the faith in one redeeming Saviour, are all that is wanting to raise Attila high above living men! I leave those in thy camp who may show thee a light thou hast never yet seen. Listen unto them, oh Attila! listen unto them and be saved! Yet! yet! I trust the mild spirit of the Almighty God will touch thy heart, and turn it into humility and righteousness. Then, mounting from the humbleness of faith, Attila will rise to a pitch of glory no earthly arms can ever win, and stand upon a point where mortal monarch never placed himself without the Spirit of the Lord to raise him up on high."

"Thou speakest words I do not comprehend," said Attila, turning away.

"God make them clear to thee in his own good time!" replied the bishop, and slowly descended the hill.