Rome was left to the enemy, except for the small garrison in the Capitol
and for eighty of the senators, men too old to flee, who devoted
themselves to the gods to save the rest, and, arraying themselves in
their robes--some as former consuls, some as priests, some as
generals--sat down with their ivory staves in their hands, in their
chairs of state in the Forum, to await the enemy.

[Illustration: RUINS OF THE FORUM AT ROME.]

In burst the savage Gauls, roaming all over the city till they came to
the Forum, where they stood amazed and awe-struck at the sight of the
eighty grand old men motionless in their chairs. At first they looked at
the strange, calm figures as if they were the gods of the place, until
one Gaul, as if desirous of knowing whether they were flesh and blood
or not, stroked the beard of the nearest. The senator, esteeming this an
insult, struck the man on the face with his staff, and this was the
sign for the slaughter of them all.

Then the Gauls began to plunder every house, dragging out and killing
the few inhabitants they found there; feasting, revelling, and piling up
riches to carry away; burning and overthrowing the houses. Day after day
the little garrison in the Capitol saw the sight, and wondered if their
stock of food would hold out till the Gauls should go away or till their
friends should come to their relief. Yet when the day came round for the
sacrifice to the ancestor of one of these beleaguered men, he boldly
went forth to the altar of his own ruined house on the Quirinal Hill,
and made his offering to his forefathers, nor did one Gaul venture to
touch him, seeing that he was performing a religious rite.