The Gallic re-enforcements, beaten and slaughtered without mercy, dispersed; and Vercingetorix and the besieged were crowded back within their walls without hope of escape.  We have two accounts of the last moments of this great Gallic insurrection and its chief; one, written by Caesar himself, plain, cold, and harsh as its author; the other, by two later historians, who were neither statesmen nor warriors, Plutarch and Dion Cassius, has more detail and more ornament, following either popular tradition or the imagination of the writers.  It may be well to give both.  “The day after the defeat,” says Caesar, “Vercingetorix convokes the assembly, and shows that he did not undertake the war for his own personal advantage, but for the general freedom.  Since submission must be made to fortune, he offers to satisfy the Romans either by instant death or by being delivered to them alive.  A deputation there anent is sent to Caesar, who orders the arms to be given up and the chiefs brought to him.  He seats himself on his tribunal, in the front of his camp.  The chiefs are brought, Vercingetorix is delivered over; the arms are cast at Caesar’s feet.  Except the AEduans and Arvernians, whom Caesar kept for the purpose of trying to regain their people, he had the prisoners distributed, head by head, to his army as booty of war.”

[Illustration:  Vercingetorix surrenders to Caesar——­81]

The account of Dion Cassius is more varied and dramatic.  “After the defeat,” says he, “Vercingetorix, who was neither captured nor wounded, might have fled; but, hoping that the friendship that had once bound him to Caesar might gain him grace, he repaired to the Roman without previous demand of peace by the voice of a herald, and appeared suddenly in his presence, just as Caesar was seating himself upon his tribunal.  The apparition of the Gallic chieftain inspired no little terror, for he was of lofty stature, and had an imposing appearance in arms.  There was a deep silence.  Vercingetorix fell at Caesar’s feet, and made supplication by touch of hand without speaking a word.  The scene moved those present with pity, remembering the ancient fortunes of Vercingetorix and comparing them with his present disaster.  Caesar, on the contrary, found proof of criminality in the very memories relied upon for salvation, contrasted the late struggle with the friendship appealed to by Vercingetorix, and so put in a more hideous light the odiousness of his conduct.  And thus, far from being moved by his misfortunes at the moment, he threw him in chains forthwith, and subsequently had him put to death, after keeping him to adorn his triumph.”