These provisions, imparted for a long time, closed (as it is said) the dog's hunger. Again they complain that their monthly rations are not abundantly furnished to them, deliberately colouring their occasions; and unless a more profuse bounty were heaped upon them, they protest that they would lay waste the whole island, breaking the treaty. Nor was there delay: they follow up their threats with deeds. CHAPTER XXIV. On the overthrow of the cities. — For the cause of just vengeance for the preceding crimes was kindled, a fire from the east heaped up by the hand of the sacrilegious men, from sea to sea, and laying waste all the neighbouring cities and fields; which, once kindled, did not rest until, burning up almost everything, it licked the western Ocean with its red and savage tongue over the surface of the island.
In this Assyrian assault, then, to be compared to that of old upon Judaea, there was fulfilled also in us, according to the history, as it is said: 'They have set Thy sanctuary on fire, they have defiled the tabernacle of Thy name on the ground' (Ps. 73[74]:7). And again it says: 'O God, the nations are come into Thine inheritance, they have defiled Thy holy temple' (Ps. 78[79]:1), and so forth.
So that all the columns were laid low to the ground with frequent battering-rams, and all the colonists, together with the prelates of the church, with the priests and people, while swords flashed on every side and flames crackled, were at the same time levelled to the ground; and—a pitiable sight—in the midst of the streets, the stones of towers torn from their lofty hinges and of the high walls, sacred altars, fragments of corpses covered with crusts and clots of purple blood, seemed mingled together as in some dreadful winepress, and there was no burial of any kind whatever except the ruins of houses and the bellies of beasts and birds in the open—saving the reverence due to the holy souls; if indeed many were found who at that time were borne to the heights of heaven by the holy angels.
For that vineyard, once good, had so degenerated, turned into bitterness, that, according to the prophet, scarcely was there seen behind the back of the grape-gatherers (Mic. 7:1) or of the reapers a cluster or itself. CHAPTER XXV. On the remnants. — And so some of the wretched remnants, caught in the mountains, were slaughtered in heaps: others, worn out with famine, coming forward, gave their hands to the enemies, to be slaves forever—if indeed they were not at once cut down; which stood in the place of the highest grace: others sought regions across the sea with great wailing, or by way of a chant, singing in this manner under the folds of their sails: 'Thou hast given us like sheep for food, and hast scattered us among the nations, O God' (Ps. 43[44]:12):
others, in the mountain hills, ramparted by menacing crags and densest forest-glades and sea-rocks, remained in their fatherland, though trembling, ever entrusting their life to a suspicious mind.
Therefore, after some time had intervened, when the most cruel plunderers had withdrawn home, the remnants, strengthened by the Lord (to whom the most wretched citizens flee from every side in diverse places, as eagerly as bees of the hive when a storm threatens), at the same time beseeching Him with their whole heart and (as it is said) loading the heavens with countless vows, that they might not be utterly destroyed unto extermination, under the leadership of Ambrosius Aurelianus—a modest man, who alone of the Roman race chanced to survive the collision of so great a tempest, his parents, doubtless clad in the purple, having been slain in it; and whose offspring in our days has greatly degenerated from his ancestral goodness—take up their strength, challenging the victors to battle; to whom victory, by God's assent, fell according to their vow.
CHAPTER XXVI. On the last peace: which last victory has been granted to our times by the will of God. — And from that time now the citizens, now the enemies, were victorious, so that in this nation the Lord might prove, after His usual manner, the present Israel, whether the Lord loves them or not: up to the year of the siege of Mount Badon, which is near the mouth of the Severn, and of the well-nigh last and not least slaughter of the rascals, which (as I know) arises as the forty-fourth year, one month having now elapsed, which also is that of my own birth. But not even now, as before, are the cities inhabited, but, deserted and dismantled, they lie squalid to this day, since, though external wars have ceased, civil ones nevertheless have not.
For there clung to the memory of those who were witnesses of both marvels both the recollection of so desperate a ruin of the island and of the unhoped-for aid; and on account of this kings, public and private persons, priests and ecclesiastics, kept their own order.
But when these had passed away, and a generation had succeeded that knew nothing of that tempest and had experienced only the present calm, all the restraints of truth and justice were so shaken and overturned that of them not even, I will not say a trace, but not even a memorial, scarcely appears among the aforesaid orders, except in a few, and very few, who, on account of the loss of so great a multitude—which daily was prone toward the pit—are held to be of so small a number that the venerable mother Church does not in some manner see them reclining in her bosom, though they alone are the true sons she has.
Lest anyone should think that I carp at their excellent life, admirable to men and lovable to God (by whom our weakness is sustained, as by certain pillars and most wholesome supports, through their sacred prayers, that it may not utterly collapse), I have spoken—if I have said anything somewhat freely, nay rather more mournfully, compelled by the heap of evils, concerning those who serve not only the belly but the devil rather than Christ, who is the God blessed above all things forever (Rom. 9:5)—I have not so much disputed as wept. For indeed what shall the citizens conceal which not only the nations round about know, but cast in reproach? Thus read through the History of Gildas, written by the fingers of a doctor named Cormac, reduced in sense and adornment. This surpasses the lowly, and carps at the many proud.