THE MAN WHO SAVED HISTORY
Luminescently lush lies a peninsula nation
Italy one hundred five years before Christ is born
Birthplace of great empire, cradle of civilization
A glorious green canvas for history to adorn
So pretty a sight, some would take it by fight
Mainly most monstrously martial marauders
As a good scholar poses, each history chapter closes
With a dark rush of barbarian invaders.

Three hundred thousand strong the Teutonic warriors come
With a greater number of their women and children
Seeking territories to proclaim their new kingdom
They hurtle forth like devouring flames of violence
With grey-eyed fierceness, they march to Rome fearless
Those who assault them possess not a prayer
In this majestic land, is there a military man
To save history from these ugly invaders?

Seeking greatest glory, fighting in Northern Africa
Through cleverness a bold Roman general conquers
The mighty Jugurtha, King of Numidia
To all Romans, one man no one could ever deter
To Sulla glory goes, but Italy knows
They would nominate the sly one their savior
"Consul Caius Marius, you are the man we all choose
To save us from these fierce Teutonic invaders."

Born in the country, to obscure daily laborers
Marriage to Julia Caesar heightened his stature
He purged Spain of its infested barbarous robbers
Nephew Julius modeled after his character
Tireless in labor, temperate with liquor
He declined to learn Greek (taught by slave teachers)
With the proper countenance, and the help of Providence
Can he rally Italy against such invaders?

A full head taller than the Italians at their best
Strange in appearance and uttering strange idiom
These great masses take six days to pass over a crest
Stunning huge numbers, but the Unknown proves most fearsome
Stark impending doom, in Roman faces looms
Trebled through Teutonic taunts meant to wither
"We can pass last words, to your women who purr
When we become their most belovéd invaders."

Ever training and running and observing the Germans
That familiarity might conquer their great fear
For Marius knows better acquaintance with strange men
Makes them far less frightful than they appear
Then arrives the day, the straining soldiers say:
"You’re holding us back from a battle most fair.
Let us prove ourselves to be the men to save Italy
From these impertinently taunting invaders."

Responds sly Marius, secretly pleased with their valor:
"Think not of the fine glory of triumphs and trophies
Rather how we might repel such a tempest of war,
While I consult oracles on our victory."
(A supposed prophetess, his strategy to bless)
Leaving the soldiers to rejoice at two vultures
Who signal their success, accompanying their marches
After these menacingly maneuvering invaders.

All through the night wild bewailings are heard
Beastlike cursings and howlings that chill
Threats and lamentations arise from the hordes
Echoing ominously through river banks and hills
This army of freaks up from the plain shrieks
Striking the Roman soldiers with terror
Giving Marius to sense a nocturnal engagement
With these hideously wailing invaders.

Dawn breaks on the battlefield and a horrible sight
Extravagant warriors resembling wild beasts
Quadruple the Romans, overly anxious to fight
Full-length white shields glittering over iron breasts
They seem even taller, thanks to great plume feathers
Driving Marius to seek succor through prayer
The gods send a dust cloud, the Teutons to enshroud
Cloaking the huge numbers of the invaders.

They fight hand-to-hand with courageous force
Not afrighted by German hordes they can’t see
Who, raised in cold and shady climates up north
Melt away in the blazing hot sun of Italy
Much out-of-breath, and sweating to death
But not a single Roman, in all the toil and glare
Breaks into a sweat, so well-conditioned instead
To attack tirelessly the wilting invaders.

Front-row barbarians are tied one to another
Their breaking ranks or retreating to prevent
Long chains attach through their belts like a tether
Presenting like sweet meat the warriors most valiant
Flailing without surcease, Romans hack them to pieces
The Teutons resist no more their penetrators
But losing all valiance, rapidly flee the Italians
Chaos defeating the neatly-rowed invaders.

The Roman soldiers pursue Teutons fleeing blood-stained lands
Met by German women in black with swords on wagons
Who slay all of their fathers and brothers and husbands
And strangle their own children with bloody talons
Then toss them like chattel, under feet of cattle
As Romans aghast can do nothing but stare
The men use the oxen to tear themselves limb-from-limb
Thus would go history with such warlike invaders.

All battle glory they ascribe to Caius Marius
The populace naming him third founder of Rome
For diverting a danger far more serious
Than ancient Gauls sacking their ancient kingdom
All the history, coming from Italy
Civilization, Christianity, Caesars
Might never’ve been, Marius the gods hadn’t chosen
To save history from these barbaric invaders!

Story taken from the life of Caius (or Gaius) Marius found in Plutarch’s Lives, written originally as Parallel Lives, by the Greek historian Plutarch, who lived roughly 50-125 A.D.
© 2000 by Michael J. Farrand