he had proposed to himself. In the first place, he could hardly have failed to know that since the invasion of Alaric, the nobles and senators of Rome had sunk into their former state of apathy and indolence; that they were giving no heed to the dangers besetting their capital, while they had taken no warning from the losses they had sustained by the frequent invasions of the barbarians. "Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof" had become their maxim and that of the Emperor Maximus, who, however incapable of administering an empire, might at least have ascertained the extent and the object of the naval preparations on the opposite shore of Africa. Yet, like his nobles, he was content to await in luxurious ease the approach of the enemy, careless alike of any means of defence, of negotiation, or of retreat.[1]
His capture of Rome. Within three days of a popular tumult which closed in ignominy the life of another feeble emperor, Genseric advanced from the port of Ostia to the gates of the defenceless city. An unarmed procession, headed by the bishop and clergy, met him and implored his mercy. But, though the barbarian conqueror promised to spare the unresisting multitude, to protect the buildings from fire, and to exempt the captives from torture, Rome and its inhabitants were given over to the licentious mercies of his army—a tardy but terrible revenge for the Roman sack of Carthage. During fourteen days and nights there was one almost uninterrupted scene of plunder and sacrilege, and all that remained of public or private wealth, of sacred or profane treasure, was
- ↑ Gibbon, ch. xxvi.
