his communications, and especially have cut him off
from the Armenian army under Procopius and Sebastian,
with which he was at this time looking to effect a
junction. To have sent the fleet into the Tigris
below Coche, while the army occupied the right bank
of the river above it, would, in the first place, have
separated the two, and would further have been useless,
unless the fleet could force its way against the strong
current through the whole length of the hostile city.
In this difficulty Julian’s book-knowledge was
found of service. He had studied with care the
campaigns of his predecessors in these regions, and
recollected that one of them at any rate had made
a cutting from the Nahr-Malcha, by which he had brought
his fleet into the Tigris above Ctesiphon. If
this work could be discovered, it might, he thought,
in all probability be restored. Some of the country
people were therefore seized, and, inquiry being made
of them, the line of the canal was pointed out, and
the place shown at which it had been derived from
the Nahr-Malcha. Here the Persians had erected
a strong dam, with sluices, by means of which a portion
of the water could occasionally be turned into the
Roman cutting. Julian had the cutting cleared
out, and the dam torn down; whereupon the main portion
of the stream rushed at once into the old channel,
which rapidly filled, and was found to be navigable
by the Roman vessels. The fleet was thus brought
into the Tigris above Coche; and the army advancing
with it encamped upon the right bank of the river.
The Persians now for the first time appeared in force.
As Julian drew near the great stream, he perceived
that his passage of it would not be unopposed.
Along the left bank, which was at this point naturally
higher than the right, and which was further crowned
by a wall built originally to fence in one of the
royal parks, could be seen the dense masses of the
enemy’s-horse and foot, stretching away to right
and left, the former encased in glittering armor,
the latter protected by huge wattled shields.
Behind these troops were discernible the vast forms
of elephants, looking (says the historian) like moving
mountains, and regarded by the legionaries with extreme
dread. Julian felt that he could not ask his
army to cross the stream openly in the face of a foe
thus advantageously posted. He therefore waited
the approach of night. When darkness had closed
in, he made his dispositions; divided his fleet into
portions; embarked a number of his troops; and, despite
the dissuasions of his officers, gave the signal for
the passage to commence. Five ships, each of
them conveying eighty soldiers, led the way, and reached
the opposite shore without accident. Here, however,
the enemy received them with a sharp fire of burning
darts, and the two foremost were soon in flames.
At the ominous sight the rest of the fleet wavered,
and might have refused to proceed further, had not
Julian, with admirable presence of mind, exclaimed