ect of throwing upon him the whole
odium of having given a signal for setting fire to Cremona, which was
already in flames.

Forty thousand armed men had poured into it. The number of drudges and
camp-followers was still greater, and more abandoned to lust and
cruelty. Neither age nor dignity served as a protection; deeds of lust
were perpetrated amidst scenes of carnage, and murder was added to
rape. Aged men and women that had passed their prime, and who were
useless as booty, were made the objects of brutal sport. If a mature
maiden, or any one of comely appearance, fell in their way, after
being torn piecemeal by the rude hands of contending ruffians, they at
last were the occasion of their turning their swords against each
other. While eagerly carrying off money or massy gold from the
temples, they were butchered by others stronger than themselves. Not
content with the treasures that lay open to their view, some forced
the owners to discover their hidden wealth, and dig up their buried
riches. Numbers carried flaming torches, and, as soon as they had
brought forth their booty, in their wanton sport set the gutted houses
and plundered temples on fire. In an army differing in language and
manners, composed of Roman citizens, allies, and foreign auxiliaries,
all the diversities of passions were exhibited. Each had his separate
notions of right and wrong; nor was anything unlawful. Four days did
Cremona minister to their rapacity. When everything else, sacred and
profane, was leveled in the conflagration, the temple of Memphitis
alone remained standing, outside of the walls; saved either by its
situation, or the influence of the deity.

Such was the fate of Cremona, two hundred and eighty-six years from
its foundation. It was built during the consulship of Tiberius
Sempronius and Publius Cornelius, at the time when Hannibal threatened
an irruption into Italy, as a bulwark against the Gauls inhabiting
beyond the Po, or any other power that might break in over the Alps.
The colony, as might be expected, grew and flourished in the number of
its settlers, from the contiguity of rivers, the fertility of its
soil, from alliances and intermarriages with the neighboring people;
never having suffered from foreign wars, but a sad sufferer from civil
dissensions. Antonius, shrinking from the infamy of this horrible
transaction (for the detestation it excited was increasing), issued an
edict forbidding all manner of persons to d